FROM THE LIBRARY OF REV. LOUIS FITZGERALD BENSON. D. D. BEQUEATHED BY HIM TO THE LIBRARY OF PRINCETON THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY SERMONS^isaitiiSss BY THE LATE Rev. JOHN LOGAN, f.r.s. Edinburgh, ONE OF THE MINISTERS OF LEITH. N INCLUDING A COMPLETE DETAIL of the SERVICE of a COM- MUNION SUNDAY, ACCORDING TO THE USAGE OF THE CHURCH OF SCOTLAND, IN TWO VOLUMES. The Fifth Edition, TO WHICH IS NOW PREFIXED, A LIFE OF THE AUTHOR, Volume i. EDINBURGH : PRINTED FOR BELL tV BRADFUTE ; AND SOLD BY LONGMAN, HURST, REES, $) ORME; AND J. MURRAY, 1807 Edinburgh, printed by ilundellt Voig, and Stevenson, io THE PUBLIC. 1 HE following Volume is the work of a Man of Genius ; but as it is a Posthumous Publication, and was not prepared by the Author for the Press, the candid Public will make the proper allowances. Among Mr. Logan's Papers were found a variety of Prayers, and of Addresses to Communicants, at the Celebration of the Sacrament of the Lord's Supper. That these might not be lost to the Public, it was judg- ed proper to give, from his Manu- scripts, the whole Service of a Com- munion-Sunday, in complete detail; in which these Compositions form a IV part; and are introduced, each in its place. This will, at the same time, serve as a memorial of the Form, according to which that Solemn Or- dinance is generally administered, in the present times, in Scotland; and may not be unacceptable to those of the neighbouring Church, who have a desire to be acquainted with the modes of our Service and Worship upon that occasion. CONTENTS OF THE FIRST VOLUME, Life of the Author SERMON I. Psalm xxvii, 4. One thing have I desired of the Lord, that ivill 1 seek after ; that T may dtvell 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, 1 SERMON IL Rom. xii, 11. — Fervent in spirit: serving the Lord 23 SERMON III. EccLEs. xil, 1. Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth 47 SERMON IV. GoL0S5. iv, 5. — Redeeming the time , . 60 ti CONTENTS, SERMON V, Psalm iv^ 4. Stand in awe 89 SERMON VL Job XXX, 23. For I know that thou ivilt bring me to deaths and to (he house appointed for all liv" zng 107 SERMON VII. 1 Cor. XV, 55, 57. O death ! ivhere is thy sting P O grave I where is thy victory ? — Thanks he to God, ivho givethus the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ 121 SERMON VIII. Ps, LM xctii, 1. The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice 140 SERMON IX. Proverbs iv, 18 The path of the just is as the shining lights that shincth more and wore unto the perfect day 1 67 SERMON X. Matthew v, 5. Blessed are the meek : for they shall inherit the earth. 200 SERMON XI. Isaiah Iviii, /. — Lyeol thy bread to the hungry, — hide nut thysclj fiom thine own flesh 2J4 CONTENTS. fji SERMON XII. Matthew V, 19. Whosoever , therefore, shall break one of these least coinmandments, and shall teach men so, he shall he called the least in the king- doin of heaven 228 SERMON XIII. Hebrews xii, 24. — The blood of sprinkliJig, which speaketh better things than that of AbeL . . 245 SERMON XIV. Mark viii, 36, For tuhat shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the ivhole world, and lose his oivti soulP 261 SERMON XV. Psalm xiiii, 4. / will go unto the altar of God^ unto God my exceeding joy 275 CELEBRATION or the SACRAMENT of tuc LORD'S SUPPER. MORNING SERVICIi. Psalm 29s Prayer 299 ACTION SERMON. Luke xxii, 44. jhid being in agony 309 Prayer 332 Pmlm, 384 ¥111 roVTENT*. Fencing of the Tables 335 Psalm 3>l2 Consecration Prayer 344 Address to Communicants^ before and after the Service of the Tables 349 Table first ib. Psalm. S5S Table second* S5^ Psalm 358 Table third. 359 Psalm SQ4< Table fourth, , ib. Psalm. 37 1 Concluding Exhortation from the Pulpit. . . . 372 Prayer 376 Psalm. 383 Blessing 384 EVENING SERVICE. Paraphrase 385 Prayer 38/ EVENING SERMON. Matthew xxvlil, G. — Come^ see the place where the Lord lay S\)6 Prayer 417 Bymn 423 Blessing » • • 4-25 THE LIFE OF LOGAN, W HEN a man of genius, by his writings, enlarges our sphere of useful knowledge, or increases our fund of refined pleasure, we naturally become solicitous to inquire into his origin, his private character, and the various particulars of his life. For though his hours may have been divided between business and study, and sometimes devoted to amusement, like those of other Hterary men, yet we feel an interest in the one case which we do not feel in the other. The sources and windings of the Ganges and the Nile are explored, by inquisitive IV THE LIFE OF LOGAI^, travellers, with an avidity proportioned to the magnitude at which they arrive, and the benefits which they confer in their course to the occean ; while their tributary streams are suffered to flow in silence and neglect. Frequently^ however, scanty materials can only be gleaned for gratifying this cu- riosity. The early life especially of such as are born and educated in a humble sta- ^tion, and emerge into notice by a native superiority of talents, is generally wrapt up in obscurity, which even the per- severing hand of plodding industry can scarcely remove. If the celebrated Dr. Johnson, with his emineiTt abilities and opportunities of research, was unable to trace many important circumstances in the history of British Poets, the author trusts that a candid allowance will be made by an indulgent public, for the following sketch, which, in spite of his best endeavours,, assisted by the friendly communications of THE LIFE OF LOGAN. V ^ome early companions of Logan, he is far from pronouncing free from imperfection and error. His father, George Logan, occupied a r>mall farm at Soutra, in the parish of Fala, on the southern extremity of Mid-Lothian, His mother's name was Watherstone, daughter to a respectable farmer and small proprietor of land at Howden in Lauder- dale,* and sister to Mrs. Addison of Kirk- cant. Both ladies were religious : and the former, with her husband, became zea- lously attached to that class of dissenters denominated Burghers. Their eldest son James was destined to succeed his father as a farmer ; and his education, according to the narrow maxims of the times, was confined to reading a little English, learning a little writing, and a smattering of arith- * The N. W. district of Berwickshire, once the title of a duke, and still of 3 n carl. a 2 VI THE LIFE OF LOGAN. metic, and repeating the catechism. But having strong natural parts, and an ardent mind, by devoting his leisure hours to books, he made considerable progress in various branches of science, during the life of his father ; and a few^ years after his death, abandoned the occupation of farm- ing, betook himself keenly to the study of medicine, went abroad, settled in North America, and died there long before his brother. Their younger son, John, was born about the beginning of the year 1748,* and, like many others of the same rank, was probably intended by his parents for the ministry, before he discovered either ca- pacity for learning, or inclination for that sacred employment. Whether he received the first rudiments of his education at home, or in the parochial school, has not * Or perhaps in the end cJF 1/47. Few dissenters at that time registered the birth of their children. THE LIFE OF LOGAN. VU hitherto been ascertained; but it is certain, that some time before 1762, his father had removed from Soutra to Gosford Mains in East Lothian, and that the son was sent to Musselburgh school, then under the care of Mr. JefFray. While there, perhaps to save expence, though more probably to preserve his sectarian principles from being corrupted, instead of being boarded with the master, he was placed with an old wo- man of the same religious persuasion with his parents. By her he was made to read the Scriptures every evening with a whin- ing tone, which seldom failed to lull her into a profound sleep ; insomuch that up- on some occasion, when her physician had ordered a quieting dose for her, the servant maid archly observed, that there was no need for his stuff, as her mistress would soon fall into rest if she heard the young scholar begin to the Bible. This anecdote, which he often related, though no proof of his application at ^3 Viil THE LIFE OF LOGAN. school, shewed an early talent for obscrra-^ tlon. Upon his removal to the university of Edinburgh in November 1762, where he attended the first Greek and second La- tin classes, he discovered uncommon pro- ficiency in the learned languages, and was one of the few whom Mr. Hunter, then Professor of Greek, examined before Prin- cipal Robertson, upon his first visitation af- ter being installed. Michael Bruce, and the late Dr. Robertson, minister of Dal- meny, (both conspicuous in different walks of literature), were his class-fellows ; and Dr. Hardy, late minister of Edinburgh, and Professor of Ecclesiastical History in the College, entered that same season a student in the first Latin class. His friend- ship with the two latter did not commence upon their first acquaintance, but was gra- dually formed and matured by the increas- ing intercourse of successive years ; where- as congeniality of dispositions and similar- ity of pursuits, attached him at once to the former, and bred such an intimacy as pro-. THE LIFE OF LOGAN. IX cured him the possession of those mss. which the immature death of the Poet of Lochleven had left imfinished, and which, in a few years afterwards, made their ap- pearance, corrected and pohshed by the masterly hand of his surviving friend. Eut his chief companion, during the first years of his academical life, was Mr, Francis ShirrefF, the son of a farmer, not far from Gosford-mains. ShirrefF possess- ed a lively and amiable temper, a warm heart, and affable manners. His genius leaned chiefly towards mathematics, and collateral branches of study, in which he might have made an extensive progress, had not his young mind been unhappily infected with puritanical principles to a degree which exceeded even the bigotry in which Logan had been educated. This strange turn was extremely distressing to his parents and relations, among whom were some of the principal farmers in East Lothian, all devovit and regular in their at<3 THE LIFE OF LOGAN tendance upon public worship, yet quite untainted by fanaticism ; but it probably cemented more firmly the bands of his friendship with Logan, whose strong feel- ings, about that time, received a violent shock by the melancholy death of his fa- ther. While returning home in a tempestu- ous night, and pushing his way through sands which are always covered at high- water, he was overtaken and overwhelmed by the swelling tide. This sudden stroke threv/ the son into a dejection of spirits, which his gloomy views of religion, and the society of ShirreiF, tended rather to cherish than to dispel. The united force of these concurring causes might have wholly overset his delicate and irritable frame, had it not been counteracted by a habit of unwearied application to his books, originating from an ambition to maintain the character which he had acquired, and now strengthened by the deep conviction of his future fortune depending upon his present exertions. THE LIFE OF LOGAN. Xi As a student of philosophy, his appear- ances were less brilliant than they had been as a student of the languages. The abstract demonstrations of Euclid, the confused jargon of scholastic logic, and the abstruse doctrines of metaphysics, wanted charms to arrest and captivate his glowing and vi- gorous imagination. Yet he was by no means inattentive to these studies. Though exotic plants to his mind, he cultivated them with considerable success. Far, in- deed, from being eminent, he was as far from being deficient in the principles of mathematics, natural philosophy, and pneu- matology. By several of his class-fellows, no doubt, he was surpassed ; but from a great majority of them he would have had no- thing to fear in a comparative trial, and iu one particular branch he had no equals. Mr. John Stevenson, then Professor of Lo- gic, delivered a series of Lectures upon *'. Aristotle's Art of Poetry," and '* Longi^ " nus's Treatise on the Sublime." These lectures, whatever might have been their XH X THE LIFE OF LOGA^^ merks or defects in other respects, breath- ed a genuine spirit of liberal criticism, and abounded with judicious quotations from the best English classics, to illustrate the maxims of the Grecian masters. By these means, they were admirably calculated to call forth the latent seeds of genius and taste, which, till that moment, the young untried mind was unconscious of possess- ing ; and while they stimulated the poetic fancy of Logan, prescribed the bounds within which its excursions should be con- fined. His early acquaintance w4th the sa- cred writings had given him a relish for their bold and abrupt figures. He was so delighted with the small portion of Homer's Iliad and Odyssey read at college, as to go through the whole of these truly wonder- ful poems, during the summer vacation, with an enthusiasm which a poet alone can feel. To a mind of this superior cast, the works of Milton and of Ossian, (then re- cently published with Dr. Blair's inimita- ble dissertation;, held forth resistless attriic-* THE LIFE OF LOGAN, XUX tions. Arid with the same avidity that he perused these subUme authors in private, he listened to the venerable Professor while pointing out their beauties in his class. From that time he employed his leisure hours, chiefly on poetic compositions of merit in different languages. He could read Latin, Greek, and French, with to- lerable facility. In each he was directed to the best models by the instructions he had received ; and he always found some companion willing to lend him such books as he was unable to purchase. Perhaps there are few instances of a young man reading so much genuine poetry, and so little trash. And perhaps there is no in- stance where studies, during the recesses of a college, contributed more both to plea- sure and improvement, — where the pur- suits which enraptured the soul, had a more fascinating influence in forming the linguist, and the man of taste. 2av THE LIFE OF LOGAK. A genuine poet cannot admire without cndePivouring to imitat;:. Early in life, ei- ther before, or soon after he went to the University, Logan made some attempts in poetic prose, like our translation of the prophetic books of Scripture ; but he had the good sense to shew them only to a few confidential friends, and soon to destroy them. During the summers of 1764 and 1760 his muse was not idle \ but it is uncer- tain whether her productions were con- signed to oblivion, or preserved and mould- ed afterwards into a form more proper to appear before the public. In I766, he was so well known, in the neighbourhood, as a lad of superior abilities, erudition, and taste, as to attract the notice of Patrick, Lord Elibank, a nobleman noted indeed for ec- centricity, but not less for his patronage of learning and merit. Besides the information, and polish to be derived from the conversa- tion of that enlightened nobleman, and of the selectfew who were admitted to his table, Lo- gan reckoned much upon the advantage of THE LIFE OF LOGAN. XV free access to an extensive and well chosen library. About the same time he was in- troduced to the acquaintance of Dr. John Main, then minister of Athelstaneford, and generally respected as a clergyman of clas- sical knowledge, chaste composition, ami- able manners, and invincible modesty. Perceiving sparks of true poetic fire in some juvenile pieces, which accidentally fell in his way, he encouraged the visits, and in- sensibly gained upon the natural reserve of Logan, who was gradually induced to sub- mit the effusions of his fancy, with less shyness, to the revisal of this sound and unassuming judge. By his friendly zeal, some early productions of approved excel- lence, and which now appear in the collec- tion of his poetical works, were circulated, in the subsequent seasons, among the lovers of poetry in the surrounding district. In the preceding session, Logan had commenced the study of theology ; and, upon his return to Edinburgh in Novem- XVI THE LirE OP LOGAN. ber 1766, he attended that inestimable course of lectures, which the late celebrated Pro- fessor of Rhetoric and Belles Lettres de- livered with such high and deserved ap- plause, during a long succession of years. Dr. Blair prescribed annually a paper in the Spectator to his students, on which they were desired to write and present critical remarks within a limited time ; and he submitted to the drudgery of perusing these remarks, of selecting, and arranging in the form of a lecture, such of them as display- ed ingenuity or good taste, and of point- ing out, with his usual acumen, the beau- ties and defects, both of the paper itself, and of the various criticisms made upon it. On that trying occasion, the observa- tions of Logan were mentioned in the most flattering terms, his elucidation of the author's sentiments and execution was pro- novmced to be just and masterly, and his language quoted on account of its proprie- ty, elegance, and force. From that time he was honoured with the countenance TI-lE LIFE OF LOGAN, XVU snci friendship of Dr. Blair ; though, cau- tious to an extreme, and fearful of bring- ing the smallest stain upon a character so meritoriously acquired, and so long main- tained, he was scrupulous of recommend- ing a young man to any employment, with- out the fullest conviction of his sufficiency and good behaviour. Nor did he, till Logan had made the same distinguished figure a second year at the class, and had afforded ample proofs of diligence and correct con- duct, take any steps to procure for liim the office of private tutor to the present Sir |ohn Sinclair, in the summer of I76S. Like many other young men at that pe- riod, Logan might at first attend the Di- vinity hall with no higher view than mere- ly to qualify himself for becoming a mi- nister among the Burghers. But he very soon renounced that intention. For though during his residence in the country, he was generally a hearer of Professor Brown at Haddington, yet he never entered as a XVlll THE LIFE OF LOGAN. Student under him. The society in which he early began to mix, and the literary pur- suits, which chiefly engaged his attention, had no small influence in mellowing and enlarging his religious principles, and in paving the way for the triumph of rational Christianity over sectarian zeal. While his belief in the divine origin and peculiar doctrines of revelation remained unaltered, he saw, with very different eyes, the ne- cessity of a public establishment of religion, not only to its prosperity, but to its very existence in a country ; and no longer at- tached importance to frivolous grounds of separation from the national church. This change was not sudden but gradual, and was not finally effected till he had reached his 18'^ year. By this time his friend Shirreff had rapidly arrived at an extraordi- nary pitch of puritanical sanctity and strict- ness. But he was naturally of such a sweet and accommodating disposition, and had conceived such an affection, and even reverence for his chamber-fellow, that his THE LIFE OF LOGAN. XIX extravagance was overlooked, and in a short v^hile moderated, partly by the pe- culiar talent for ridicule which Logan could exert, and partly by the serious remon- strances of confidential companions, though chiefly, perhaps, by the solid intercourse with them in which he was allured to in- dulge. Both continued in the same room till Logan entered upon his charge in the family of Ulbster. Soon thereafter, a total revolution took place in the sentiments of ShirrefF. From the pinnacle of fanaticism, he plunged into the abyss of infidelitv, abandoned the study of divinity, and went to Jamaica as tutor to the son of a rich planter. Tiring of that employment, he returned to his native place after an absence of two years, resumed his former profession, obtained a licence to preach the gospel, re- lapsed into his former sanctimonious habits, and died in the fair prospect of being ap- pointed to officiate in the chapel then re- cently built in Edinburgh by Lady Glen- orchy. b XX THE LIFE OF LOGAN. The candid reader will pardon a digres- sion, which places in such a striking light the danger of inflaming susceptible minds with religious zeal, before their judgments have attained maturity to decide how far it is well founded, and * according to knowledge,' and the impolicy of impos- ing austere and unnatural restraints on youthful passions and innocent gratifica- tions. In proportion to the distance that a pendulum is drawn to one side, will be the velocity, force, and length of its swing to- wards the other. However opposite in their natures, and far removed from each other, fanaticism and infidelity certainly are, yet «the mind which is violently pushed towards the one, will be apt to rebound, with equal violence, towards the other, without stop- ping an instant at the middle point, where true Christianity takes her stand. — Here was a young man of excellent parts, and the best dispositions, thrown off his balance in ^arly life, and absolutely lost to society, by the officious enthusiasm of some zealot, THE LIFE OF LOGAN. XXI who perhaps might believe all the while that he was rendering an acceptable service to God. The first theological exercise of Logan at the hall, was not such as his other li- terary exhibitions gave reason to expect. Several bold thoughts and splendid passages were scattered through it : but the compo- sition was unequal ; and less attention was evidently paid to the meaning of the text and the connection of its parts, than to brilliancy of sentiment and expression. These defects were noticed by the professor (Dr. Hamilton), in his usual calm and mild manner ; and they were afterwards so care- fully avoided, that one of his subsequent pieces delivered there, chastened, without doubt, in his riper years, makes no con- temptible figure in the following sermons. In summer 1768, he accompanied his pupil to Caithness ^ and, perhaps, it was ou b2 XXll THE LIFE OF LOGAN. his way going or returning, that he snatch- ed time to make a short call on the father of Michael Bruce, and obtained possession of his Mss. Yet this visit more probably did not take place till the following season (1769) ; for it was then, that the fact, of these MSS. being in his hands, was first known to his companions, and the resolu- tion adopted of publishing them by sub- scription. By that time he had left his situation in the family of Ulbster, from a dislike of going so far from his friends and the metropolis during summer, and also for the sake of superintending the press, and sending abroad the posthumous works of a kindred genius, in a correct and finish- ed state. They appeared in 1770, under the title of ' Poems on several occasions by Michael Bruce.' In the preface hcin- forms us that a few of them were writ- ten by different authors. This intimation, united with other circumstances, has given rise to a controversy between the surviving friends of the two poets, concerning the THE LIFE OF LOGAN. XXlil share which each of them had in the pvib- lication. The only pieces which Logan himself ever acknowledged in his conversations with the compiler of this biographical sketch were, the story of Levina, the Ode to Paoli, and the Cuckoo. The last was handed about, and highly extolled among his literary acquaintances in East Lothian long before its publication, probably (though not certainly) in 1767) as he did not reside there at all in I768, and very little in I769. This fact, and his inserting it as his own in a small volume published eleven years afterwards, seem pretty de- cisive of his claim. Levina, though a beau- tiful tale, yet being incomplete in itself, and forming only an incident in a larger poem, could not with propriety have been intro- duced into that volume : and he probably thought the other poems which he contri- buted anonymously to the posthumous work of another, had too little merit to ap- bS Xxiv THE LIFE OF LOGAN. pear in a work professedly his own. For this reason, he might be particularly solicitous of excluding the Eclogue in the manner of Ossian, although there are strong reasons for ascribing it to his pen, notwithstand- ing its inferiority to his other compositions. For it is undeniable that his admiration of the Gaelic bard gave birth to many imita- tions still more puerile than the Eclogue. In March 1770, a proposal was laid be* fore the presbytery of Dalkeith, according to the forms used in the church of Scot- land, for taking him on trials, in order to preach the gospel. In a long and strict examination he shewed an intimate ac- quaintance with the principles of natural and revealed religion, and the principal controversies which have agitated the Chris- tian world. After the usual preliminary steps had been taken, he was transferred in June to the presbytery of Haddington, where he entered on trials the 5^ of July, and after delivering the prescribed dis- THE LIFE OF LOGAN. XX courses, was admitted a probationer on the 27^^ of September following. The ex- treme dehcacy of his nerves occasioned a degree of perturbation and flutter, which in his first pubHc appearances was very- disagreeable both to his hearers and him- self; his voice, too, was monotonous, and his manner rather formal. But when his mind was elevated by a lofty, or affected by a tender sentiment, his embarrassment be- came scarcely discernible, and he spoke with a seriousness, gravity, and energy, which were truly impressive. With these exterior advantages, setting off discourses which were in general chaste, manly, and animated, he was soon distinguished and admired as a preacher ; and in less than fifteen months, from the time of his being- invested with that character, received a call to the second charge of South Leith^ from a majority of the electors. The validity of this election was contested before the civil and ecclesiastical courts, and determined by both in his favour. After undergoing a XXVI THE LIFE OF LOGAN, second course of trials before the Presby- tery of Edinburgh, to their entire satisfac- tion, and much to his own honour, he was ordained upon the 2^ of April 1773. From that time he was assiduously em- ployed in discharging the duties of his of- fice, and in prosecuting his studies, with the exception of a few days occasionally occupied in excursions to visit former com- panions, several of whom had obtained livings in different parts of Scotland, Meanwhile his celebrity as a poet recom- mended him, though then a very young clergyman, as a member of a committee, which was appointed by the General As- sembly in 1775 for revising and enlarging the Psalmody of the church in public wor- ship. Here his talents, his industry, and his complete knowledge, not only of the meaning and scope, but of the figurative language and characteristic beauties of the sacred writers, gave him a decided ascend- ancy in conducting the business. He was TPIE LIFE OF LOGAN. XXVll by far the largest contributor ; and it is dif- ficult to determine whether greater praise be due to the original pieces which he fur- nished, or to the judicious alterations and happy emendations that he made on those v/hich were submitted to his revisal The only ones exclvisively his own, are the 8'^, 11'^, and 5b'^. He rendered several of those formerly published more smooth, elegant, and simple, particularly the 2\ lW\ 20'\ and 25^ The 38''' he entirely new model- led and enlarged. Many others bear the marks of his correcting hand and poetic talents. This collection of ' Transla- tions and Paraphrases' was published in 1781, under the sanction of the General As- sembly — and that same year appeared the poems of Logan, with the addition of nine hymns. Of these the 2\ 3^, 4"', /\ and 9'\ only are entirely new The I", o'^, 6'\ and 8^' correspond to the 44^', 2^\ :/\ and 3^, ' Translations and Paraphrases,' prepared by the General Assembly in I? t.3, and reprinted in 1749 and 1754. There, in- XXVUl THE LIFE OP LOGAN. deed, they are comparatively naked and wretched performances ; but here they arc clothed and adorned by Logan, with a pe- culiar felicity of thought and expression, which in some measure justifies his ap- propriating them to himself. These facts account in an obvious manner for Logan's composing hymns, and oppose a strong presumptive argument against the pre- tensions of Bruce. The task imposed on the former turned his thoughts to sacred poetry, and naturally led him to peruse, with a critical eye, and to attempt the me- lioration of former versions. Sometimes slight corrections occurred, which fully answered the purpose. But on other occa- sions, he found it easier to make the whole anew, except some scattered stanzas of su- perior excellence, which readily incorporat- ed with his own. And there can be little doubt, that, to a mind like his, other sacred subjects would hold out invitations to ex- ertion. All these indvicements were want- ing to Bruce. He might, indeed, have THE LIFE OF LOGAJT. XXlX left hymns in a more or less polished state, and these hymns might have been altered, embellished, and published by Logan as his own. But it may be reasonably ques- tioned, if Bruce ever saw^ the translations and paraphrases which form the ground- work of no less than four of these hymns, — and if he did, what motive could he have for trying to improve upon them, when so many other passages of Scripture, equally suitable to his genius, open an unoccupied field for displaying it ? If these observations carry any weight in support of Logan's claim to the improvement of former hymns, they strengthen thereby the presumption of his being the author of the others. For both bear intrinsic and evident marks of com- ing from the same pen; they breathe. the same spirit, they are executed in the same style. Here, as in the case of the Cuckoo, the probability is in his favour. Poetry, however, w^as far from engaging the whole time he had to spare from his XXX THE LIFE OF LOGAN. professional duties. Two years before these publications appeared, he had delivered a course of lectures on the Philosophy of History, which displayed extensive know- ledge, deep research, and judicious ar- rangement. He had long been employed in collecting materials, and in selecting, com- pressing, and digesting them into the most agreeable form ; he had submitted his la- bours, and made known his intention to his more confidential companions, Dr. Robertson and Dr. Hardy ; and, with their entire approbation, he had consulted Prin- cipal Robertson, Dr. Blair, Dr. Carlyle, Dr. Adam Smith, and other literary characters, with whom he lived in good habits, all of whom promised him their countenance and assistance. But he was not a little morti- fied to find himself precluded from the use of a room in the college, by a regulation expressly denying that privilege to all teachers of languages and lecturers on sub- jects, for which professors were provided. The course, however, was announced to THE LIFE OF LOGAN. xxxi begin in S'. Mary's Chapel upon a particular day in November 1779; and such was the general esteem and respect entertained for Mr. Logan, that many of his class-fellows came from a considerable distance to attend his preliminary lectures. During the first session, his students were respectable more on account of their rank and talents, than of their number, and contributed as much to the increase of his fame, as of his emo- lument. In the second, his success was equal to his most sanguine hopes, and opened to him a likely prospect of being promoted to the Professorship of Universal history, which became vacant about that time. An unforeseen obstacle stood in his way. It had been the invariable practice of the patrons to present a member of the Faculty of Advocates. And on this occa- sion they conferred the office on Mr. Fraser Tytler, now Lord Woodhouslee. The dis- appointment was the more cruel, because the character and abilities of the new pro- fessor lessened the chance of every compe- XXXU THE LIFE OF LOGAN. titer. The lectures of Logan no longer met with encouragement, and were discon- tinued. He seems to have entertained some thoughts of publishing them ; for, in sum- mer 1781, while yet he only anticipated their failure, an analysis of them appeared under the title of * Elements of the Phir losophy of history.' And in the year following, one of the lectures was sent into the world in the form of an * Essay on the Manners of Asia.' Both were favour- ably received. Of the latter, it is justly observed, that it exhibits a successful at- tempt to apply the science of moral philo- sophy to the history of mankind.* The applause of the public called for a second edition of his poems very soon after their publication, and probably encouraged him to offer his tragedy of Runnamede to the managers of Covent-Garden theatre for * Dr. Anderson's Life of Logan, THE LIFE OF LOGAN. XXXlll representation ; but it was stopped by an interdict from the Lord-Chamberlain's of- fice, merely from a suspicion of its contain- ing allusions unfriendly to the politics of the day. It was printed in 1783, and af- terwards brought upon the stage at Edin- burgh, not without considerable marks of favour, though neither the subject nor the conduct of the piece were such as to ensure its frequent performance. There is probably no literary effort to which abilities of the highest order arc so necessary, or on which an author's fame can be more firmly erected, than that of dramatic composition. Shakespeare is more celebrated than Chaucer, and the author of Every Man in his Humour more regard- ed than the authors of the Fairy Queen or the Palace of Honour. Though Logan's name had already been established, he was chiefly regarded as a tender and pathetic writer; — beautiful rather than sublime, with more of the poet's fancy than his fire, XXXIV THE LIFE OF LOGAN^ lie had not discovered either the energy or grandeur of the tragic muse. To attempt that in which so few have succeeded, was hazarding too far his future fame, in an ef- fort which, if unsuccesful, might blight the favourable expectations he had already- given reason to indulge. In a dramatic poem, much more is requisite than simply the genius of a poet ; he must exhibit an intimate acquaintance with human nature, a more lively and minute delineation of the character and manners, of the passions and prejudices of men, than is required in a poem of any other kind : and even with all these, the finest production shall not succeed, if its unity as a whole be not conspicuous throughout, and at the same time the parts so variegated, the incidents so striking, as to give life and interest in the representation. To fail in either, is to fail completely ; through the neglect of the latter, even the genius of Shakespeare, conspicuous, though not to the same degree in all his plays, is unable to bring upon the stage the third THE LIFE OF LOGAN. XXXV part of those which we read with pleasure ; w^hile, it is equally obvious, that the obli- vion which covers the ephemeral dramas of the day, is owing to their want of stamen or originality of character and composition, — though the authors' acquaintance with stage eiJect may secure their representation till their novelty has ceased. Mr. Logan had besides to encounter with an obstacle of a different nature, in Scotland equally pow- erful, and which in England too has its weight, — the general prejudice which, ever since the introduction of the drama into Bri- tain, has looked with aversion to the inter- ference of the clergy with the amusements of the stage. So sacred is this sentiment among the sober Presbyterians of Scotland, that Logan cannot be easily vindicated from the imputation of rashness in venturing to bring forward Runnamede, while yet the obloquy had scarcely subsided which had been excited by the production of Douglas. We cannot wonder that thefe repeated c XXXVl THE LIFE OP LOGAN. and severe disappointments should prey, with pungent keenness, upon a mind un- commonly susceptible ; or that the melan- choly, congenial to the poet's constitution, should assume a darker and more gloomy cast, when all the favourite schemes were blasted from which he had fondly hoped to dr^rive fortune and fame. His temper was stiil further fretted by the umbrage which some of his parish had unjustly taken at his engaging in studies totally foreign to his profession, and which others, with more rea- son, had conceived on account of certain de- viations from the propriety and decorum of his clerical character ; though not a few of them were sufficiently liberal in their allow- ances for irregularities which could only be attributed to inequality of spirits and irrita- bility of nerves. These concurring causes affected his health, rendered him unequal to the proper discharge of his duties, and in- duced him to close with a proposal of retir- ing upon a moderate annuity. The agree- ment was not completed till 178G ; but, up- THE LIFE OP LOGAN. XXXVU on the faith of it, he left Leith in the Octo- ber preceding, and went to London. His pursuits there cannot be so easily traced. It is generally believed that he furnished many valuable articles to the English Review, which then had the great- est run of all the periodical works of that kind. And it is well known that he was the author of an anonymous pamphlet, en- titled, * A Review of the principal charges against Mr. Hastings.' This publication made its appearance in 1788, was eagerly and universally read, and produced such an effect upon the pviblic mind in favour of the distinguished culprit, as to occasion a prosecution of the publisher by order of the house of commons, of which Logan did not live to see the issue. He died upon the 28'' day of December 1788, and Mr. Stockdale was not tried and acquitted till the 9"" of December following. A short wdiile before his death, * A view Q2 Xkxviii THE LIFE OF LOGAN. of Ancient History,' volume i, was pub- lished by Dr. William Rutherford, who at that time conducted an academy at Ux- bridge. Upon its arrival at Edinburgh, the more enlightened admirers of Logan instantly recognized in it those lectures, to which they had listened with attention and delight, and which had made a last- ing and a pleasing impression on their minds. Yet Logan himself never claimed a work which soon obtained a high reput- ation and a rapid sale ; and, among the papers which he left, no scrap has been found to afford the slightest information on the subject. It seems, therefore, unfair to strip the living of laurels, for the sake of strewing them upon the tomb of the dead. Dr. Rutherford has since perfixed his name to a second volume, which is evidently execiited by the hand of the same master. The end of Logan was truly christian. When he became too weak to hold a book, he employed his time hearing such young THE LIFE OF LOGAN. XXXIX persons as visited him read the Scriptures. His conversation turned chiefly on serious subjects, and was most afi'ecting and in- structive. He foresaw and prepared for the approach of death, gave directions about his funeral with the utmost compo- sure, and dictated a distinct and judicious will, appointing Dr. Donald Grant, and his ancient and steady friend Dr. Robert- son, his executors, and bequeathing to them his property, books, and mss. 'to be converted into money, for the payment of legacies to those relations and friends, who had the strongest claims upon his affection- ate remembrance in his dying moments. The execution of this delicate trust de- volved chiefly on Dr. Robertson, because he resided in Scotland, not far from the relations of Logan, and near the spot where his character was best known, and his MSS. would sell to the greatest advan- tage ; and no man was more eminently qualified for the office ; for his talents have xl THE LIFE OF LOGAN. , not raised him to a more distinguished rank in the repubUc of letters, than his vir- tues have in the circle of his private friends. He instantly announced an intention of publishing a volume of the sermons ; and, from the general admiration which the preacher had attracted, it w^as purchased in 1790, at a good price, and met with a very favourable reception. The same price v^'-as given for a second volume, which appear- ed in the year following. He alone took the trouble of selecting from the mss. such sermons as were most complete, and fittest for coming abroad into the world. In re- vising and preparing them for the press, and in correcting them while there, he was assisted by Dr. Blair and Dr. Hardy. These sermons are rich in variety of sentiment and language. While the au- thor is careful to ' hold fast the form of ' sound words, and the doctrine vvdiich is ' according to godliness,' his expressions are always perspicuous, generally elegant THE LIFE OF LOGAN, xli and nervous. In none of his other com- positions Iiatli he displayed, to such ad- vantage, his happy talent of borrowing, decorating, and in a manner creating anew, the thoughts and images of others. Never were popular tenets arrayed in a more splendid and captivating dress. Never were plain and interesting truths sent home to the heart with greater power of persuasion and elegance. The world has done justice to their merit, for they have already reached the 5'^ edition. The friendly exertions of Dr. Robertson, in pushing forward their publication, were the more meritorious, because, during that very time, he was deeply immersed in stu- dies of his own, — meditating a 2"^ volume of his ' Enquiry into the Progress of the ' Fine Arts/ — preparing his History of Queen Mary for publication, and drawing up papers of valuable communications for the board of agriculture. He was besides Etiuch occupied in superintending the edu- xlii THE LIFE OF LOGAN. cation of his own children, and of some young gentlemen who were boarded in his house. Had not his industry and applica- tion exceeded those of most men, he never could have fovind leisure to do as much as he did for his deceased friend \ and it can- not be matter of surprise, that he was un- able to accomplish a design, which he seems to have meditated, of prefixing an account of Logan to an edition of his miscellaneous works from mss.^ which are still unpublished. That intention, pro- bably, was never relinquished, but post- poned from time to time from the pressure * Dr. Anderson's Life of Logan. The Dr. gives the foI>- lowing list of these unpublished works from Dr. Robertson^ viz. In verse, * Electra,' and * the Wedding day,* tragedies 5 * the Carthagenian Heroine,* a tragedy, with one act only fi- nished, and about * six short Lyric poems.' In prose, eight Numbers of an intended paper called * The Guardian,' twenty- five * Lectures on Roman History,' and six or seven * intro- ductory ones to his lectures on Universal History.' Besides these, the compiler has seen and read three acts of a tragedy on the death of Mary Queen of Scotland, composed in Logan's fccst style. THE LIFE OF LOGAN. xliil of more important occupations ; till at last too great indulgence of his studioiis ha- bits, brought on a disease which prema- turely put an end to his useful life. Logan's character as a poet is easily con- ceived. Simplicity, elegance, and taste,, are the genuine features of his composition. His style, peculiarly chaste and delicate, is finely suited to natural, tender, or pathetic description, in which principally he excels. When he attempts to move beyond his pro- per sphere, to soar with Milton, to catch the fire of Shakespeare, or the energy of Dry den, he does not succeed so well. We perceive, it is true, the execution of a skil- ful hand, but labouring as with a task in the toils of composition. Of this, there arc many examples in Runnamede. The cha- racter of feudal chieftains is extremely la- boured, and poorly sustained by the ba- rons. In them we perceive only the author, who is endeavouring, like FalstafF, to bring forward his troops, neither willing in tke Xllv TUt LIFE OF LOGAN. service, nor fit for it. But when Elvina expostulates with her father respecting her proposed marriage with Arclen, every sen- timent is beautiful and just ; we forget the author, — the parent and the daughter, the chieftain and the lover stand alive before us. Elvine is the only hero in the martial groupe ; for his heroism is the offspring of love. When he talks of Elvina, his language is the language of nature, and his conduct the natural transcript of life. But when he boasts to Arden, of his deeds in arms, his expressions resemble the bombast of Boba- dil. The grandeur, however, of the fol- lowing figure is ftriking, and fufliiciently atones for its extravagance : To me ! I meant not to disclose my blrtli Till I had prov'd it. I have ever been Discovered by my deeds. Like Ilim in lieavea, Who in the majesty of darkness dwells, But sends the thunder to reveal the God. The reader, when he has got to the end of Runnamede, has no wisli to read it again. Though not displeased, he is somehow dis- THE LIFE OF LOGAN. xIt appointed. On a subject so interesting and fertile, with a plan and outlines so classical- ly drawn, and all the persons of the drama appropiiate, and necessary to the plot, the cause of this disappointment must be traced to some defect in the execution ; and will be found in the improper termination of the play. As humour is the character- istic of comedy, that of tragedy is the re- verse ; and there is nothing that so natur- ally heightens the calm and pleasing melan- choly, as the mournful catastrophe of the main plot. The regularity and beauty of Douglas, from the first scene to the exit of Glenalvon, would have been lost, had not the yovmg hero fallen — and how finely is the impression prolonged by the close of the scene with the relation of his mother's death. El vine, after his conviction of Elvina'i infidelity, should not have been undecc ved. When he rvishes willingly upon destruction in the field of battle, we ai'e prepared only xlvi THE LIFE OF LOGAX. for the sad tale of his death, and we antici- pate the fate of the distracted Elvina. But, in the heat of the engagement, Elvine has learnt the whole story of the artifices laid for his deception — he flies from the field to the arms of his mistress, and the story is concluded by the consummation of their nuptials. The effect of some of its best scenes is thus dissipated, and the character of the piece, as a tragedy, rendered equi- vocal — for the conclusion of the main plot by the attainment of Magna Charta, has certainly no tragical effect. Had the play been more skilfully managed in this particular, and some scenes, particularly those where the Barons alone are the actors, either modelled anew or withdrawn, Run- namede, superior, in other respects, to most of the modern English tragedies, might have maintained a respectable place upon the stage. But observations of this nature are to no purpose. We have only to re- gret the necessary study that Logan devot- ed to a performance which has not tended THE LIFE OF LOGAN. xlvl VU to raise his name ; especially when we re- flect, had the time been employed on a de- partment of poetry more congenial to his powers, how much he might have added to the pleasure we receive from the perusal of his other poems. Little need be said respecting the poetry of this small volume. Of its merit there is but one opinion ; and the reader vv^ho can- not relish its beauties, has yet to learn the elements of taste and beauty. On it, the scrutiny of the most subtle or peevish cri- ticism would be lost. Logan's art was to imitate nature, and so natural and fine is the imitation, that his pages, like the scenes of nature, are always new ; we read them again and again with undiminished pleas- ure. The images of the fancy are not form- ed by rules, and its subjects are invariably the same. If the language in which they are written, be not rendered obsolete by change or improvement that w^e cannot an- ticipate, the poems of Logan will be ad- xlvlii THE LIFE OF LOGAN. mired while poetry is cultivated by his country ; and, in the hemisphere of real beauty, of nature, and simpHcity, his star shall shine, while the * cloud of night ' de- scends upon ' the braes of Yarrow.' JtSD Of THE LIVS.. SERMON I, PsAL. xxvii, 4 One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, tp behold the beauty of the Lord, and. to inquire in his temple, ]r^AviD, the author of this psalm, is ^^ much celebrated in the sacred Scrip- tures. As a man, he was not without faults ; but as a king, he shines with un- common lustre. He diotinguished himself in early youth, as the champion of his na- tive land ; in fighting the battles of Israel he became the hero of his age ; and at last he ascended the throne, on which he sat with much splendour during many years. He was the founder of the Jewish mo- narchy. From being separate tribes, he made the Jews a nation. Their judge in Vol. I. A 2, SERMON I. peace, as well as their leader in war, he secured by his councils what he had gain- ed by his arms, and gave to Judea a name and a renown among the kingdoms of the East. To the bravery of a warrior, and the wisdom of a statesman, he added what in all ages has been no less admired, — the accomplishments of a poet or bard. " The *' sweet Psalmist of Israel" consecrated his harp to the praises of the Lord, and com- posed to its sacred strains, that have mi- nistered to the improvement and to the devotion of succeeding times, till this day. Notwithstanding all his other engage- ments, he found time for the exercises of religion : notwithstanding all the pleasures and honours of a throne, he found his chief happiness in the house of the Lord. " One *' thing have I desired of the Lord, that '* will I seek after, that 1 may dwell in the ** house of the Lord all the days of my '' life." Whenever his favourite subject presents itself, he takes fire, and speaks of it, not only with zeal, but with transport. *' How amiable are thy tabernacles, O Lord ^' of hosts ! My soul longeth, yea, even SERMON I. S ** fainteth for the courts of the Lord : my " heart and my flesh cry out for the Hving « God." It becomes then a subject worthy of our attention, to inquire, Wbat there is in the public institutions of religion, to have ren- dered them an object of so great import- ance to the king of Israel ? This will ap- pear, if we consider their influence on men, with respect to their religious capacity ; with respect to their moral character ; with respect to their political state ; and with re- spect to their domestic life. In xki^ first place, let us consider the in- fluence of religious institutions upon men, with respect to their religious capacity* There are many qualities which we share in common with the inferior ani- mals. In the acuteness of the external senses, some of them excel our species. They have a reason of their own ; they make approaches to human intelligence, and are led by an instinct of nature to as- sociate with one another. They have also A 2 • 4 SERMON L their virtues, and exhibit such examples of affection, of industry, and of courage, as give lessons to mankind. But in all their actions they discover no sense of Deity, and no traces of religion. It was reserved to be the glory of man, that he alone should be admitted into the presence of his Crea- tor, and be rendered capable of knowing and adoring the perfections of the Almigh- ty. As piety is the distinguishing mark of the human race, a tendency to the ex- ercise thereof is in some degree natural to the mind. When we look up to heaven, and behold the sun shining in glory, or the moon and the stars walking in bright- ness, untaught nature prompts us to adore him that made them, to bow down and worship in the temple not made with hands. When we are surrounded by dan- gers on every side, and overwhelmed with deep aflBiction, by the law of our nature we tend to some superior Being for safety and relief: or when we are surprised with a sudden flow of unexpected prosperity, spontaneously we lift up our eyes and hands to heaven, to pour forth the grate- SERMON I; 5 ful effusion^ of the heart to our unseen Be- nefactor. As there are principles, then, in human nature, which incline men to religion, and principles also which incline them to so- ciety, it Would not have been extraordi- nary, if the combined influence of the re- ligious and associating principles had been so strong as to have prompted men to have assembled in public, for the purposes of devotion, although no law had been given to that end. But it was not left to this. Among all the nations of the world, the public interested itself in the cause ; the le- gislative authority interposed its sanction, and kings and lawgivers encouraged the propensity of the people to religion. It re- quired no profound v/isdom to foresee the manifold advantages that the public wor- ship of a Deity would introduce among men. — Accordingly, temples were everywhere built, sacred ceremonies were instituted, an order of men was appointed to officiate in holy things, and certain days were set apart for the people to join in the celebra- tion of divine worship. Indeed, as to the A3 6 SERMON L objects, and the manner of worship, httle care was taken. The magistrate gave his authority to the current belief, though ever so absurd and ridiculous, and esta- blished that form of religion which the people were best disposed to receive. It was thovight sufficient, if by public and solemn acts of piety, a sense of Deity, and feelings of religion, could be impressed, and fre- quently renewed in the minds of men. But in some nations this practice, so high- ly beneficial to mankind, was enjoined by an authority superior to that of human go- vernors. God himself, in the system of laws which he delivered to his ancient people, hallowed the seventh day, and ap- pointed other festivals in which the people should assemble together in order to join in the services of the sanctuary. In what concerns the celebration of the Sabbath, Christianity confirms the Mosaic law. Our Saviour, whose practice ought to be a rule of life to Christians, attended upon the pub- lic worship in the Jewish synagogues ; and the Apostles followed his example, till by their labours in the ministry, they had ga- thered together in one place, a sufficient SERMON 1. 7 number of converts to form a church. Then they constituted regular assembhes of Christians, they ordained proper persons to preside in the pubUc worship, and both by their precept and example, recommend- ed a constant attendance on these meet- ings of the faithful. That there must be an established reli- gion in every state, is a principle in which not only Christians, but infidels, have been agreed. In order that the public reli- gion may be productive of any good ef- fects, it is necessary that it make a deep impression upon the minds of the people. But if it were not for our assembling toge- ther on the Lord's day, for public worship, that form of Christianity which is establish- ed in this country would perhaps take too feeble a hold of the mind, to produce its proper effects. The Christian religion is very different from those systems of super- stition which prevailed in the Pagan world, The Heathen religion had attractions for every feeling of the human frame. It con- tained every thing that could strike the senses, or please the imaginations of men. A 4 8 SJERMON I. All the apparatus of false religion, which at once amuses and engages the mind, was exhibited : ceremonies, pompous festivals, costly sacrifices, were continually passing before the eyes of the worshipper. In the majesty of the temple, and the splendour of the worship, the Deity seemed to be present. Ancient superstition introduced the fine arts into her train, called the powers of genius to her aid, and employ- ed the painter and the poet to hold out her charms to the world. Very different was that religion of which Jesus Christ was the author. When the Son of God descended, he appeared not like the idols of the nations. The Chri- stian religion is pure, spiritual, divine. It is the religion of the mind and the heart ; the worship of God, who is a spirit, in spi-^ rit and in truth. There is nothing here but the simplicity of truth and the maje- sty of reason to persuade the world. Man, however, is not a pure intelligence, and reason is not the only attribute of his na- ture. Were it not, therefore, for the mode of communication by discourse in public SERMON L assemblies, Christianity, in its simplest form, could never be a popular religion. It might employ the leisure of philosophic men ; it might dperate its effect upon the few who are given to inquiry j but it ne- ver could engage the generality of man- kind. They who have not considered the subject, cannot possibly conceive the asto- nishing difference that there is between written and spoken knguage ; between the dead letter that appears to the eye, and the living voice that comes to the heart. The same discourse that in a po- pular assembly would raise the passions of the audience to the highest pitch ; send it abroad in print, and it will often have no effect at all. Add to these, that it is to the meetings of the faithful, th^t the promise of the divine presence is made. In the gates of Zion, God de- lights to dwell ; and v>^hen his disciples are gathered together, Jesus has promised to be in the midst of them. True piety indeed is not confined to the sanctuary. High is the pleasure, and great the bene- fit, of private devotion. But sure I am, that they who have entered into the spi- 10 SERMON I. rit, and tasted the pleasures, of devotion in secret, will not be thereby prevented from approaching to God in the ordinances of public worship. Society heightens every feeling, and improves every delight. All that charms the eye, or the ear, or the imagination, or the heart, is attended with double pleasure, when we share it in the company of others. In the presence of striking and exemplary piety, the careless worshipper will become devout, and the devout will become fervent. A holy emulation will rise in the bosoms of the faithful : the ardour will spread from breast to breast, and the passions of one inflame the passions of all. May I not appeal to your own experience, and ask, When you have been in the Spirit on the Lord's day, when the word of life was spoken from the lieart to the heart, have you not felt that there was a divinity in virtue ? have you not found yourselves as if translated from earth to heaven, and ex- perienced the emotion of mind which the Patriarch felt, when he awoke from his dream, and cried outun rapture, '* Surely ** the Lord is in this place ! This is none SERMON I. 11 " other than the house of God, and this is *' the gate of heaven ?" Secondly^ Let ns view the effect of reli- gions institutions upon men, with regard to their moral character. Whatever brings men together, and con- nects them in society, has a tendency to civihze and improve them. Especially when they assemble together for such im- portant purposes as the worship of a Deity, this will be the effect. There is some- thing in the very idea of drawing nigh to God, that inspires virtue. When men ac- customed to meet together as busy and as social creatures, assemble at stated times as rational and immortal beings, a sense of propriety will prompt them to act up to that high character. When the sons of God come to present themselves before the Lord, whatever is displeasing to God, and hostile to men, will vanish from their mind. The connection between such ex- ercises of piety,, and the practice of virtue, is nearer and more intimate than superfi- cial reasoners are apt to imagine. There H SERMON I. are indeed pretences to religion, without any virtue, as there are pretences to virtue without any religion ; but whoever in real- ityp ossesses the fear of God, will be there- by determined to keep his commandments. It must be obvious, at first view, that the sense of a Supreme Being, the inspector of human affairs, the patron of virtue, the avenger of sin, and the rewarder of righte^ ousness, has a powerful tendency to strength-^ en moral obligation, to annex a new sanc- tion to the laws^ and to inspire purity into the manners of a people. By the operation of such a principle, open violence will be restrained, and se- cret enmity w4Il be checked* Society will assume a happier form, the insolence of the oppressor will be humbled, and the wild passions of the licentious be subdued. What the Scripture calls, *' the power of *' the world to come," is felt strongly through every corner of this world. Hea- ven improves the earth; and the life which is to come, is a source of happiness to the life which now is. There are, indeed, I acknowledge, to the honour of the human SERMON L 13 kind, there are persons in the world who feel that the possession of good dispositions is their best reward ; who would follow goodness for its own sake, and do their duty, because it is their duty, although there were neither rewards nor punish- ments to come. But I know as well, that the world is not composed of such persons. Men in general are governed by their pas- sions, their interest, the prevailing bias of their minds ; and whenever their passions, their interest, or the bias of their mind, stand in one scale, and their duty in the other, it is very evident where the balance will incline. To such persons you might declaim for ever to no purpose, on the beauty of virtue, and the harmony of a well-governed mind : they hear you not ^ they are deaf to the voice of the moral charmer : nothing less than *' Thus saith ** the Lor4," will influence their conduct. The unjust judge in the parable represents and characterizes the great body of man-^ }cind ; if they fear not God, neither wiU ^bey ri^gard men. iii SERMON L Thus, if the pubHc institutions of reli- gion were laid aside, private virtue would not long remain behind. Men in general have no principle of moral conduct but religion, and if that were taken away, they would work all impurity with greedi- ness, whenever they could withdraw from the public eye. Human laws would often be of little avail, without a sense of divine legislation ; and the sanctions of men have little force, unless they were enforced by the authority of God. There would then be no security for the public peace ; the mutual confidence between man and man would be destroyed ; the bond which keeps society together would be broken ; oaths would become mere words of course, and an appeal to the Great God of Heaven no more regarded than if he were an image of stone. Human life would be thrown into confusion, the safety of mankind would be endangered, and the moral world totter to its ruin, if such a pillar were to fall. And what is it that maintains and spreads religious principles in the world ? What is it that keeps alive on the minds of the people, the fear of God and the be- SERMON I. 15 lief of his providence ? It is the pvibUc in- stitutions of reUgion ; it is the observance of the Lord's day ; it is our assembhng to- gether in this place, for the celebration of divine worship. The people, in general, have no religious principles, and no rule of life, but what they learn here ; and if these churches were once shut vip, the hand ^of the civil magistrate would soon force them open, in order to reclaim the crimi- nals that would thus be let loose upon the world. In the third ^XdiCQ, let us view the effect of religious institutions upon men, with regard to their political state. *' The political systems that take place in the world, the facility with which the many are governed by the few, is one of the most wonderful things in the history of man. That mankind in all ages, and in all countries, should allow a few of their number to divide this globe among them ; to appropriate to themselves the possessions, distinctions, and honours, and leave nothing to the majority but burdens (C 16 SERMON I. to bear, if we had not beheld it from the first, would have appeared one of the most astonishing of all events. Would it be at all surprising to hear a man struck with a sense of this state of things, cpmpUin thus. — '' Is nature unequal in the care of " her children ? A mother to some, and ^' a stepmother to others ? Has she ap- pointed me to labour in the sweat of '* my brow, and another to riot in the " fruit of my labours ? No. The fault is ^' not in nature. She has no favourite^. '* She give$ to all her sons an equal right '* to inherit the earth. The fault is in ' them who tamely bend their necks to " the yoke, who kneel and kiss the rod '* which the haughty lord waves over '* their heads. It never surely was the *' will of heaven, that the worthy should ** be scorned by the vile, and the brave *' be trampled upon by the coward. Can- '' not I then fmd a band of men as valiant ^* and as determined as myself, to rectify ** these caprices of fortune, to vindicate '' the rights of nature, and restore man- '* kuid to their original inheritance ? By ** doing violence at first, this usurpation on SERMON L 17 '* nature was made ; and by a similar *' violence, nature requires that her reign *' be restored.'' What is it that prevents such a spirit as I have been now describ- ing, from frequently breaking out ? What prevents bloodshed and devastation, and all the evils of war ? What prevents the world from being turned upside down ? — Nothing so much as the influence of re- ligious principles upon the minds of men. Christianity gives honour to civil govern- ment, as being the ordinance of God, and enjoins subjection to the laws, under its own awful sanctions. And not only by particular precepts, but by its secret and less visible influence, it prepares the minds of men for submis- sion to lawful authority. When we meet together in this place, under the sanction of law, and under the protection of the civil magistrate, we are put in mind of our relation to the state, and of our duty to the higher powers. Fear God and bj" nour the king^ have more than a local con- nection in Scripture.* Obedience to spi- VoL. I. B * See I Pet. ii, 17. 18 SERMON 1. ritual authority paves the way for subjec- tion to the civil power. Hence wise Le- gislators have, even on this account, fa- voured the progress of religion : hence tho^e who have attempted innovations in government, applied, in the first place, to the ministers of religion, and endea- voured to gain the pulpit on their side. Julian, known by the name of the Apostate, the most formidable enemy the Christians ever had, was so sensible of the influence, and of the effects of preaching to the peo- ple, that he appointed a similar institutioa among the heathens. " My son, fear thou the Lord and the ** king," (said the wisest of mankind) *' and meddle not with them that are *' given to change." In confirmation, we may observe, that men, characterized as given to change, have either, from infi- delity, not attended upon ordinances, or, from enthusiasm, been above them ! For, who have been innovators and disturbers ? who have been the authors of seditions and rebellions ? v/ho have been the enemies of order and civil government, in many SERMON I. IQ i^ui age ? — a mixture of atheists and fa- natics ; two classes of men, who, though seemingly opposite, have been found in close bonds of union. In the fourth and last place, we have to consider the influence of religious institu- tions upon men, with respect to domestic life, It is chiefly on account of their dome-. Stic situation, that we can pronounce men happy or miserable. Here the pleasvires are enjoyed which sweeten life ; here the pains are felt which embitter our days. No uneasiness abroad will sit heavy on a man, when the pleasing reflection rises in his mind, that he has happiness at home : No enjoyment from without will give real and lasting satisfaction, when he knows that he has a curse in his own house. It is no small advantage attending the institutions of divine worship, that they minister to the happiness of domestic life. A new bond will be added to the conjugal vmion, when those whom it connects walk B2 20 SERMON I. to the House of God in company, take sweet counsel with one another, and set ovit jointly in the way that leads to life. Water- ed by the dews of Heaven, which fall here, the olive-plants will flourish round your table. What sacred sensations will fill the bosom of a parent, when, viewing his fa- mily sitting at the feet of Jesus, he says, in the fulness of a grateful heart, '' Lord ! '* behold me, and the children whom thou ** hast given me !" There is a beauty, also, when the rich and the poor, when the high and the low, ivho seldom meet together on other occa- sions, assemble here in one place, one great family, in the presence of their common Lord, when they are stripped of every ad- ventitiovis circumstance, and where virtue makes the only distinction among them. It is the image of those golden times when society began ; it is the image of the state which is to come, when God shall be all in all. Such are the effects of religious institu- tions upon men, with respect to their re- SERMON L 21 ligiovis capacity, their moral character, their political state, and their domestic life. Whoever, therefore, habitually absents himself from attending on public ordinan- ces, has to answer for it to his God, — to his neighbours, — to his covmtry, — and to his family. He partakes with other men in their sins ; he associates with the ene- mies of mankind ; and does what in him lies, to undermine the basis on which the order and happiness of civil society is built. He teaches the false swearer to take the name of God in vain ; he directs the mid- night robber to his neighbour's house ; and he delivers into the hand of the assassin, a dagger to shed innocent blood. But, blessed be God ! that, corrupted as the world is, there are not wanting in- stances of exemplary piety, in every sta- tion of life ; not only in the middle, the lower, and the higher, but in the highest of all. While piety shines, as it now does, from the Throne ; while it has the beam of Majesty to adorn it ; let none of the ^2 SERMON L subjects fail in copying the pattern : and while we meet together in this place, let us remember, that many who have wor- shipped, in times past, within these walls, are now in the Higher House, in the Church of the First-born, in the Assembly of Angels, and in that Temple where the beatific presence of the Lord displays his glory, in a manner which hath not en- tered into the heart of man to conceive. SERMON IL Rom. xii, 11. 'Fervent in spirit ; serving the Lord^ npHE manners of mankind are perpetual- -*- ly va^rying. Two nations differ not more from one another^ than the same na- tion differs from itself, at different periods of society. This change of customs and manners has given rise to two opinions, both of them generally received, and both of them founded on mistake. These are, that we are always improving upon our an- cestors in art and in science, and always de- generating from them in religion and mo- rals. When we talk of any work of in- genuity or of industry, composed or per- formed by our forefathers^ from the high- 24 SERMON 11. est liberal science, to the lowest mechanic art, if we allow it any praise at all, our pa- negyric runs in this style : ** It is very well " for the time in which it was done." On the other hand, we always allow our an- cestors the preference in virtue. For these five thousand years past, the philosophers and moralists of every nation have extolled the times of antiquity, and decried the age in which they lived, as the worst that ever was known. " These wicked times," — *' This degenerate age," are phrases that have rung in the pviblic ear almost since the general deluge. The ages of antiquity are always ages of gold ; the present always an age of iron. The origin of these opinions I take to be this. As customs and manners are per- petually fluctuating, the reigning mode is always reckoned the best, because they have no other standard but fashion. But fashion is not the standard of morals. The hand of the Almighty hath written the moral law, the standard of virtue, upon the living tablets of every human heart. Here SERMON II. 25 then the standard is fixed and eternal. Accordingly, as quite a different set of virtues and vices prevail in one age, from what prevail in another ; as we are natur- ally disposed to bury the faults of our forefathers in oblivion ; as we insensibly contract a veneration for whatever is great in antiquity ; hence arises the opinion, that the virtues of a former age are greater than those of a following one. We think we degenerate from our fathers, becavise we differ from them. But were I to pro- nounce of the times in which we live, I would say that the present age is not in- ferior in virtue to the past. We have im- proved upon our ancestors in humanity, charity, and benevolence ; we have ex- changed the rage and rancour of animals of prey, for the meek and gentle spirit of the dove. The gall of asps is transformed into the milk of human kindness. Great and enormous crimes are less frequent than they have been ; we are better members of society, better neighbours, better friends than our ancestors were. People of different opinions and sects in religion, who some hundred years ago would have been put- tQ SERMON 11. ting one another to death, now live toge- ther in amity and peace. Would to God I could carry on my pa- negyric, and add, that we are more reli-» gious and devout than our ancestors were ; that our zeal for the honour of God, and the interests of religion, shines with a brighter lustre, and burns with a purer flame. But alas ! my brethren, I must here change my strain. Your own eyes, your own hearts, will tell you the dismal truth. Is it not a deplorable fact, that in- stead of being fervent in spirit to serve the Lord, an indifference about religion almost universally prevails ? The very face of seriousness is banished from society, and were it not for this day, on which we as- semble together to worship the God of our fathers, the very form of godliness would be exterminated from the earth. To induce you to the practice of devo- tion, it is pnpposed, in the Jirst place, to il- lustrate the importance and the advantage of serving the Lord ; and, in thtfecond place, to explain and to enforce, with a few ar- SERMON II. o^ guments, the duty of serving the Lord with fervency of spirit. In the first place, let ns consider the im- portance and the advantage of serving the Lord. , . We are urged to the practice of some virtues, by onr strong sense of their in- violable obligation ; vre are allured to the love of others, by the high approbation of their native beauty, which arises in every well-disposed mind ; we are engaged to the performance of others, by our experi- ence of their utility and influence upon the public good. Piety is equally enforced in all these respects. Its obligation is in- dispensable ; its beauty is supreme, and its utility is universal. It is not so much a single virtue, as a constellation of virtues. Here reverence, gratitude, faith, hope, love, concentre their rays, and shine with unit- ed glory. Whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are pure, are honest, or of good report ; if there be any merit, any praise in human action, piety compre- 28 SERMON II. liends the whole. There is not a disposi- tion of the mind which is more noble in itself, or is attended with greater pleasure than piety. It is accompanied with snch inward satisfaction, that the duty is suffi- ciently rewarded by the performance ; and it hath such true grandeur in it, that when duly performed, it exalts us to a state but little lower than the angels. The most il- literate man, under the impressions of true devotion, and in the immediate acts of di- vine worship, contracts a greatness of mind that raises him above his eqvials. There- by, says an admired ancient, we build a nobler temple to the Deity than creation can present. Piety is adapted to the notions of hap- piness and chief good which all men en- tertain, although these notions were as va- rious in themselves as the theories of phi- losophers have been about their object. If we are actuated by the mild and gentle affections, lovers of nature, willing to re- tire from the bustle of the world, and to steal .through the vale of life with as little SERMON II. 29 noise, and as much peace as possible, re- ligion sanctifies our choice, and dovibles all the joys of life with the peace of hea- ven. Are we lovers of society, delight- ing to enlarge the sphere of our acquaint- ance in the world, and to cultivate uni- versal friendship with all ranks and degrees of men ? Here too, religion befriends us, as it unites all men under one common in- terest, that of being probationers for eter- nity. Are we ambitious of fame and ho- nour among men ? This is indeed the uni- versal passion. Nothing more distinguish- es the nature of man, than this restless desire of rising above his fellows, of be- coming famous, and acquiring a name. But it does not lie in the way of every one to rise in the world, by being advanced to honour and distinction, and command- ing the applause of attending multitudes : Fame unbars the gates of her temple but to a chosen few ; the candidate will infal- libly meet with many a disappointment, and many a downfal. in climbing the steep ascent ; but the paths of religion that lead to glory, honour, and immortality, are 30 SERMON II. ever open and safe; by piety we already enjoy a reputation among the just, and the approbation of our own hearts, and have the certain expectation of that immortal honovir which cometh from God only, who writes our name in the book of life. Hi- ther let the man of the world turn, that he may find durable riches, more to be de- sired than gold and all earthly possessions. Here the man of pleasure may find a per- petual fund of enjoyment, in drinking of that stream which proceeds from the river of life ; a stream whose fountain never fails, which has no sediment at bottom, eand which runs for ever uamingled witl:} the waters of bitterness. Piety is the foundation of virtue and morality. True devotion strengthens our obligations to a holy life, and fuperadds a new motive to every social and civil duty. Upon an impartial observation of man- kind, it will be found, that those men who are the most coiiscientious in the public and private exercises of divine worship, will be most diligent in performing the. SERMON II. 31. duties they owe to their neighbour, and in observing the rules of moraUty. Our holy religion lays us under strong obligations to duty ; the spirit of Christianity dwelling in the heart, must of necessity inspire it with an ardent desire to perform whatever things are virtuous and praiserworthy; and the example of Jesus Christy which the true Christian sets continually before his eyes, will engage him by all the laws of love, to walk as he also walked, who, according even to the testimony of his enemies, *' did *' all things well.'* On the other hand, impiety and immorality naturally go tOr gether, as cause and effect. Who is it that is altogether corrupt, and a worker of ini- quity ? It is the fool, who hath said in his heart, there is no God. When we read of the unjust judge in the Gospel, who fear- ed not God, we naturally infer that he re- garded not man. Under this particular, we may likewise take notice, that serving the Lord with sincere piety, is the most successful method of becoming publicly useful in the world. Man, fallen as he rertainly is, is still a benevolent being:* 52 SERMON II. Formed for society, he delights in the ex- ercise of his social qualities, he aspires to be eminently useful in the station in which he is placed, and is in his proper element, when he is dispensing happiness around him. The sympathetic emotions that rise in the bosom at the sight of an object in distress, the smile that wakens on the cheek, the tear that starts spontaneous from the eye, at the representation of scenes of human joy or sorrow, are indisputable in- dications of the benevolence of our nature. But the low station of many, checks the benevolence of their hearts, and circum- scribes it to a narrow sphere. Few have it in their power to become useful to their country, by contriving or effectuating pub- lic-spirited designs ; few have it in their power to save their country from the mi- series of war, by being its shield in the day of battle ; few can act as the instru- ments of Providence, in bringing about na- tional happiness. But all of us can be p'ous, and by serving the Lord with fer- vency of spirit, can become universally use- ful to our country and to the world. By SERMON II. ^s piety, like the Prophets of old, we can shield our country from the wrath of hea- ven ; we can interest Omnipotence on its side, and even derive blessings to ages un- born. A good man is the guardian angel of his country. I shall only add on this head, that by serving the Lord here, we have an earnest and anticipation of the happiness of the heavenly state. It is a pleasant reflec- tion, and well worthy of our most serious thought, that we are now entering upon a course of life that will be our employment through eternity. As man is a progres- sive being, gradually tending to perfec- tion, it is a law of his nature, that he should endeavour to act beforehand, the part to which he is destined in a higher state of being. The child, from his ear- liest years, anticipates in sport the em- ployment of maturer age, loves to imitate the actions of men, and is pleased with the name. We are all of us children, with respect to our future existence ; and should it not be as natural for him who is born from above, to act over the exercises Vol, L C S4.^ SERMON II. and enjoyments of that state of being to which he is advancing ? Piety is the be- ginning of heaven in the mind : Here tl>e sun faintly beams, as in the dubious twi- light ; there he shines forth in full meri- dian glory. What an inestimable privi- lege then is this, which God hath put in- to our power? A life sacred to piety, and to the observance of true and unds - filed religion, introduces us beforehand into the world to come, and gives us an acquaintance with the state and society of the angels and blessed spirits who dwell in light. I come now to the second thing propos- ed, which was, to explain that fervour of spirit so requisite in the exercises of de- votion, and enforce it with a few argu- ments. By fervour of spirit, in general, is meant an uncommon application of mind in the performance of any thing, a warmth bor- dering upon transport, that moves every spring of the heart, and carries all before it, to gain its end. So that by a fervency SERMON II. S5 of spirit in serving the Lord, mn^t be un- derstood, an ardent and active desire of loving the Lord, of worshipping him in sincerity, and obeying his commands with all our heart, with ail om* soul, with all our mind, and with all our strength. It consists not in a few transient fits and starts of natural devotion, when we are in jeo- pardy, without help of man ; neither is it a wild blaze of religious passion, that flash- es and vanishes ; much less shall it be pro- •faned by confounding it with those furies, Enthusiasm and Suptrstition^ who w^ould drench a country with innocent blood, un- der pretence of serving the Lord. *' Cursed " be their anger, for it is fierce, and their *' wrath, for it is cruel. O my soul, enter ''' not thou into their secret.^' True fervour of spirit proceed eth from above. It is a beam from the Father of lights, pure and benign, which at once en- lightens and warms the mind. It is a ray from the Sun of Righteousness, bright even at the beginning, and which shineth more and more unto the perfect day. It is a temper wrought into the heart by the Holy C -. 36 SERMON II. Spirit, compounded of love to God, and of zeal for his honour, attended with charity to man. This fervour of mind, in its full extent, is one of the brightest ornaments of the Christian. It enters into the heart, and engages the whole man on the side of de- votion ; it gives a double measure of force and alacrity to that religion which before was sincere. In a word, it is to the spi- ritual life, what health is to the natural ; it makes that spirited and cheerful, which otherwise would only breathe and move. Conscious that religion is his grand con* cern, the fervent Christian will set about the duties of it with suitable ardour and intenseness of mind. The passions and affections which God hath given man, as the springs of action, will in him be ex- erted to their noblest purpose, to inspire him with alacrity and cheerfulness in the ways of jthe Lord. He will be in pain till he has performed his duties of devo- tion, and labours of love, holding nothing too dear, which will procure to him that jrobc of holiness, which is beautiful in the SERMON IL ^7 eyes of Heaven. He feels in his heart all the devout affections and desires so pas«* sionately described by the holy i salmist, which we know not whether to admire most as beautiful strains of poetry, or rap- tures of devotion. " As the hart panteth '* after the water-brooks, so panteth my ** soul after thee, O God. My soul thirst- " eth for God, yea, the living God : when " shall I come and appear before God? " How amiable are thy tabernacles, O *' Lord of hosts ! My soul longeth, yea ^ fainteth, for the courts of the Lord. ** For, a day in thy courts is better than a " thousand. The desire of my soul is to *' thee, O God, and to the remembrance ** of thy name. With my soul have I de- " sired thee in the night, yea, with my " spirit within me will I seek thee early. ** My soul waiteth for thee, O Lord, more " than they that watch for the morning ; " yea, more than they that watch for the ** morning." To engage us more effectually to the performance of this part of our duty, let us consider the general obligations we lie un,- C3 38 SERMON If. der, as rational creatures, to serve the Lord with fervency of spirit, and then the parti- cular obligations that arise from Christianity. And, in the 7?/*j/ place, as tjie Almighty is the Creator of the world, and the Father of the human rac^, he is likewise their Pre- server, and the A^uthor of order and har- mony in the universe. In his Providence, he takes us, the chil- dren of men, into his particular tuition, in giving us, from his immediate hand, all things requisite for our subsistence, well- being, and delight, in this world, our well- ordered habitation ; in making nature spon- taneously vmlock to us her hidden stores ; in causing the wide creation, one way or other, administer to our pleasures, as if heaven and earth contended which should be most liberal of their favours to happy man ;.and in fine, admitting us, above all the other inhabitants of our earth, into the' plan of his creation, and making us spec- tators of that beauty, original and supreme, the image of himself, which he hath pour- ed forth, over all his works. SERMON IL 30 But when we consider his particular Providence, with respect to every one of us, our obligations will be infinitely height- ened. Here we discern the finger of G©d. His goodness lent a favourable ear to all our feeble cries and Complaints, when we were upon the breast ; he guarded us from a thousand dangers and diseases which hung over our heads, and cut off more than one half of our equals in age ; he hath led us, as it were, by the hand thi'ough the various stages of life, affording us many deliverances, and many tokens of his loving-kindness, which only ourselves and Heaven were privy to ; and when all things ill the world seemed to combine against us, he was a friend that never fail- ed. Seeing then he upholds our existence, and is the parent of so many mercies, has he not, as our Supreme Benefactor, a title to the service of our whole lives, and to all the fervour of our spirits ? This will appear still more, in the next place, when we consider the superior obli- gations which we are laid under by Chrif- ^ SERMON IL tianity. While many nations are sitting ipi darkness, and the shadow of death, on us hath the Sun of Righteousness ai*isen, in full glory. We are let into the mystery kept hid from ages. We have seen the Deity, in human form, descending upon earth, to teach the benighted nations the knowledge of salvation ; to set a pattern of goodness and perfection for the world to imitate ; and, by expiating the guilt of sin upon the cross, to finish our redemption. We have now a new and living way open- ed into the Heaven of Heavens, by the blood of Jesus. Life and immortality are brought to light, and promised to all who sincerely believe and obey the gospel. So that we may now rejoice with the Poet of Israel,—'* As the heaven is high above the •* earth, so great is the mercy of the Lord " towards us; for as far as the east is from ** the west, so far hath he removed from "^ us all our iniquities : He redeemeth our *' lives from destruction, and crowneth us '* with loving kindness and tender merr '* cies." SERMON 11 4^ When we are obliged to any of onr fellow-creatures for an important fa- vour, what pleasure is it to a generous heart, to be able to make the least re- turn ! If our benefactor be above us in his station in life, if he bestowed the fa- vour without any solicitation on our part, ^d promises still to continue our friend, ^hall we not take every occasion of shew- ing that we are not ungrateful, and search for opportunity of serving him, as for hid treasure? What thanks, what praises, what services, shall we not then render to our Supreme Benefactor, who had trans- lated us from the kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of his Son ; who deliver- ed up his Son unto the death for us, and with him freely gives us all things ! We have abundance of ardour and zeal \n our temporal concerns. We rise early, and sit up late : we deny ourselves the pleasures and comforts of society : we forego our native country, and all the dear connections of early life : we tra- verse the whole terraqueous globe, expose ourselves to the mercy of winds and waves, 43^ SERMON IL and bear alternately tKe extremities of heat and cold : we breathe in the regions of infection and of death, — ^to amass a few pieces of shining dust, whose acquisition costs us such sore trouble, and whose pos- session gives us so little happiness. Al- mighty God ! shall we be thus fervent and zealous in every temporal, in every trivial concern, and remain cold and dead unto thee! — If thus we continue, my brethren » the very heathens, issuing forth from their regions of darkness, will set up a. tribunal and call us before them : " The ** men of Ninevc shall rise up in judgment *' with us, and shall condemn us ; because " they repented at the preaching of Jonas, *' and behold a greater than Jonas is here ! ** The Queen of the South shall rise up in *' judgment with us, and shall condemn us ; ** for she came froiifi the uttermost parts ** of the earth, to hear the wisdom of So- *' lomon^ and behold a greater than So- ** lomon is here !"-^'' Verily, it shall be *' more tolerable for the land of Sodom *^ and Gomorrha, in the day of judgment, ^' than for our city," S.ERMON IT. 43 Do ye consider, my brethren, the dig- nity and importance of that religion, to which yom' attachment is required ? Do ye reflect, that this is the masterpiece of infinite wisdom ; that here the Almighty made bare his holy arm, and put forth all his strength ? The introduction of this re- ligion was the object of all the dispensations of the Deity upon earth. This is the centre in which terminates every line in the great circle of Providence. If one nation was vic- torious, and another put under the yoke ; if war was commissioned to ravage and lay desolate the earth, or peace to make the joyful inhabitants sing beneath the vine ; if kings were crowned, or were dethroned ; if empires rose or fell, all was preparatory and subservient to this grand event. The monarchies which prevailed in the world, whether Assyrian, Persian, Grecian, or Ro- man, w^ere erected as introductory to the Messiah, v;hose kingdom w^asto be without bounds, and whose reign was to be with- out end. That great image which the Monarch of the East beheld in his dream, whose head was of gold, whose breast wis of silver, whose thighs were of brass, and U SERMON n. whose feet were of iron, was set up by Pro* vidence, to prepare the way for the Stone which was cut out without hands, which was destined to smite the image, become a great mountain, and fill the whole earth. All events, whether prosperous or adverse, whether malignant or benign, have co* operated towards the advancement of our religion. Saints have established it, by their lives : martyrs have confirmed it, by their deaths : hypocrites have added strength tp it, by their dissimulation : ty- rants have purified it, by their persecu- tions : infidels have corroborated it, by their opposition : the arrows of Its ene- mies have served for its protection : the resistance which it has met with, from the combined wit and genius and malice of mankind, have brought forth those il- lustrious and immortal defences, which establish its truth upon the basis of de- monstration. Shall we not, then, reckon ourselves eternally indebted to the infinite goodness of God, and stir up all that is within us lO bless his holy name ?— saying, ia-the SERMON a 45 language of true fervour of sjpirit, '' We ** will praise thee, O God ! we will praise ** thee with our whole heart ! our lives *' shall be thy sacrifice ! wc will adore ** thee in death, and through eternity !" God, from his throne in heaven, doth not behold an object more noble, and more worthy of his view, than a pious man; a man who, conscious of the dignity and immortality of his nature, employs him- self with fervour and zeal, in those devout exercises which assimilate him to the Di- vinity, who measuring time by his im- provements in devotion and virtue, never loses a day. He is the favourite of Heaven. The arm of the Almighty is stretched out in his behalf. The Lord loves him, and keeps him as the apple of his eye ; he gives his angels charge concerning him, to preserve him in all his ways, lest at any time he should dash his foot against a stone. He delights to speak his praise in the as- semblies of his saints and angels above : he writes his name in the book of his re- membrance, and gives him the honourable*, title of the friend of God, He makes all 46 SERMON IL things work together for his good in thi^ world, and, in the dark vale of death, opens his eyes to discern the dawning of heavenly day. In fine, he holds his very ashes sacred ; and, raising him np at the last day, carries him to his throne in hea- ven above, with the glorious company of the redeemed, to be made partaker of his own happiness. These are thy palms, O piety ! thine is the kingdom prepared above, thine the power with God and with man, and thine the crown of glory that fadeth not away f SERMON III. ECCLES. xil^ I. Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth, TXT HEN Solomon, in early youth, had ascended the throne of Israel, the God of his fathers appeared to him in a dream. The Almighty was graciously pleased to condescend thus to visit his creature. He put in his offer all the pleasures of the world, and desired him to ask, and he should receive; to wish, and he should enjoy. The young king possessed a wisdom beyond his years, and a greatness above his crown. He did not ask to have his palace filled with the beau- ties of the east, to have his treasury stored with the gold of Ophir, or to wear the laurel of victory over the nations. He asked a greater boon than all these. " Give thy 48 SERMON III. *' servant, O Lord," replied the wise princCp " Give thy servant wisdom and understand- *' ing." What he then made the object of his own choice, he recommends to you under another name, in the words of the text : " Remember now^ thy Creator in the days of thy youth," This is the last chapter of the works of Solomon, and these words may be regard- ed as his dying advice to the young. The philosophers of antiquity, who held out the lamp of wisdom to the heathen world, gave the same advice to their followers. But be- tween them and Solomon, there is this re- markable difference ; they, from the ob- scure retirement of the schools, declaimed against pleasures which they had never tasted, and affected to despise honours to wdiich they never had it in their power to ascend. But Solomon, a great and power- ful prince, in the pleasurable time of life, had in his own person tried the experi- ment. He made the tour of the sensual world. He went in quest of happiness through all the scenes of life. He extend- ed his search over the broad and flowery SERMON III. 49 way, as well as in the narrow path, as it should seem by a particular permission of Providence, to save the pains of future in- quirers* Solomon acted the libertine upon a principle of inquiry. The result of his researches was, that all unlawful pursuits began with vanity, and ended in vexation of spirit, and that the true happiness of man consisted in that understanding which teacheth us to depart from evil, and in that wisdom which instructeth us to fear the Lord. It is common in Scripture, to express all the acts of devotion and virtue by some part or principle of religion, sometimes by wisdom and vmderstanding ; at other times, by faith, love, the fear of God, walking with God, and many other phrases; all of which express the same meaning, and denote the whole economy of a religious Ufe. So that remembering our Creator in the days of our youth, implies an early and an entire dedication of ourselves to the service of God. Vol. I. D so SERMON III. In further discoursing upon these words, I shall enforce the exhortation in the text, and endeavour to persuade you to remem- ber your Creator in the days of your youth, from the peculiar suitableness of religion to the early period of life. And, in ihtjirst place, let me exhort you now in the days of youth, to remember your Creator, from your being as yet uncorrupted by the world . Although both Scripture and experience testify that man is fallen, and that our na- tvire is corrupted, yet it is equally certain, that our earliest passions are on the side of virtue, and that the good seed springs be- fore the tares. Malice and envy are yet strangers to your bosom. Covetousness,that root of evil, hath not yet sprung up in your heart ; the selfish, the wrathful, and the licentious p?.ssions, have not yet ob- tained dominion over you. The modesty of nature, the great guardian of virtue, is not seduced from its post. You would blush even in secret, to do a deed of dis- honesty and shame. High sentiments of honour and of probity, expand the soul. SERMON m. 51 The colour comes into the cheek at the smallest apprehension of blame ; the ready- lightning kindles in the eye at the least appearance of treachery and falsehood. Hence says otir Lord to his followers, — Un- less you become as a child ; unless you as- sume the candour, the innocence, and the purity of children, you cannot enter into the kingdom of God. Therefore, whilst you are yet an offering fit for heaven, pre- sent yourselves at his altar, devote your- selves to his service. How beautiful and becoming does it appear for young persons, newly arrived in this city of God, to re- jnember the end for which they were sent into it, and to devote to their Maker's ser- vice, the first and the best of their days ? When they are in the prime of youth and of health, when the mind is untainted with actual guilt, and alive to every generous im- pression, to consecrate to religion the ver- nal flower of life ? The virgin innocence of the mind, is a sacrifice more acceptable to the Almighty, than if we should come be- fore him with the cattle upon a thousand hills, and with ten thousand rivers of oil. If there be joy in heaven over a great and D 2 52 SERMON III. aged sinner that repenteth, how pleasing a spectacle will it be to God, to angels and to the spirits of just men made perfect, to behold a person in the critical season of life, acquit himself gloriously, and, despising the allurements, the deceitful and transitory pleasures of sin, choose for himself that better part which shall never be taken away ! Dare then, O young man, to remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth ; have the courage to be good betimes. Beware of falling into the usual snare of the inexperienced ; beware of thinking that you have time enough to be religious, and for that reason may defer the work of your salvation to maturer age, when, as you foolishly imagine, seriousness and sanctity will come of their own accord. In answer to this, let me ask you, my friends, How often have you observed time reform any one ? Did time reform Saul ? Did time reform Ahab ? Did time reform Jezebel? On the contrary, did they not grow bolder in wickedness ? You generally, indeed, ob- serve a greater degcncy in maturer age. SERMON III. 53 The ebullition of youth is then spent, its turbulence is over ; but, too often, I am afraid, the wild passions have only given place to an external sobriety, whilst the heart is as far from God, and as carnal as ever. If you suspect this to be a hasty de- cision, examine what passes in the world. Do you not observe great part of men in the decline of life, as earthly-minded as before ? The passion for pleasure has in- deed abated, but the love of lucre, the most sordid of all passions, hath come into its place. If such perfons have any regret for their past life, it is only because it is past. Even then, they look with envy upon the gay and the flourishing state of the young. With what joy and triumph do they talk over the excesses of their early days, and seem to renew their age in the contempla- tion of their youifal follies ? Alas, my friends, Is not God the Lord of all your time ? Is there one of your days which doth not pertain to him ? Why would you then take the flower of life, and make it an offering to the enemy of souls ? Is your time too long, to be all employed in the service of God ? Is the prime of your days D3 54 SERMON III. too precious to be devoted to heaven ? And will yon only reserve to your Maker the refuse of life ; the leavings of the v/orld and the flesh ? If you would speak it out, the language of your heart is this : That whilst you are good for any thing, you will mind the world and its pleasures ; that you will crown yourselves with rose-buds, before they are withered, and let no flower of the spring pass away ; but if at any time the world shall forsake you, if your passion for pleasure shall have left you, you will then seek the comforts of religion ; any part of your time, you think, is good enough for God ; you will apply yourselves to the work of your salvation, when you are fit for nothing else ; and when you cannot make a better of it, you will seek the kingdom of heaven. Is it thus that ye requ.ite the Lord, O people, foolish and unjust ? Is this your gratitude to your Benefactor ? Is this your love to your Father ? Is this your kind- ness to your Friend ? Whilst he now calls upon you in the sweetest language of Hea- ven, '' My son give me thy heart," ought SERMON III. 0.5 it not to be the natural movement of your heart, to answer with the good man of old, *' With my soul have I desired thee in the *^ night ; with my spirit within me, will I ** seek thee early :" — *' "Whom have I in '* heaven but thee ? and there is none in all ** the earth whom I desire besides thee." In the second place, Let me exhort you to early piety, from the consideration of those evils which await you in your future days. Now is your golden age. When the morning of life rejoices over your head, every thing around you puts on a smiling appearance. All nature wears a face of beauty, and is animated with a spirit of joy. You walk up and down in a new world ; you crop the unblown flower, and drink the untasted spring. Full of spirit, and high in hope, you set out on the jour- ney of life ; visions of bless present them- selves to view : dreams of joy, with sweet delusion, amuse the vacant mind. You listen and accord to the song of hope, " To-morrow shall be as this day, and 66 SERMON IIL ** much more abundant." But ah! my friends, the flattering scene will not last. The spell is quickly broken, and the en- chantment soon over. How hideous will life appear, when experience takes off the mask, and discovers the sad reality ! Now thou hast no weariness to clog thy waking hours, and no care to disturb thy repose. But know, child of the earth, that thou art born to trouble, and that care, through every sub-r sequent path of life, will haunt thee like a ghost. Health now sparkles in thine eye, the blood flows pure in thy veins, and thy spirits are gay as the morning : but, alas ! the time will come when diseases, a nume- rous and a direful train, will assail thy life ; the time will come, when pale and ghastly, and stretched on a bed, " chastened with *' pain, and the multitude ofthy bones with " strong pain, thou wilt be ready to choose ** strangling and death rather than life." You are now happy in your earthly com- panions. Friendship, which in the world is a feeble sentiment, with you is a strong passion. But shift the scene for a few years, and behold the man of thy right- SERMON III. 57 hand become unto thee as an aUen. Be- hold the friend of thy youth, who was olie with thine own soul, striving to supplant thee, and laying snares for thy ruin ! I ^mention not these things, my friends, to make you miserable before the time. God forbid that I should anticipate the evil day, unless I could arm you against it. Now remember your Creator, consecrate to him the early period of your days, and the light of his countenance will shine upon you through life. Amid all the changes of this jfluctuating scene you have a Friend that never fails. Then let the tempest beat, and the floods descend, you are safe and happy under the shelter of the Rock of ages, Thirdly, the season of youth devoted to piety, will yield you a comfortable old age. When the fire and spirit of youth are decayed ; when sober age retires from the noise and bustle of a busy world, and loves to spend in peace the tranquil Sabbath of life, what joy will it afford to be able to look back with pleasiu'e on the actions of 3 58 SERMON III. other years ! Worn out and weary of his pilgrimage, the traveller now entertains himself by recalling the times that are past, and recollecting the scenes of his early days. In particular, he now loves to recal the pe- riod of childhood and of youth, when he wandered up and dov/n, a stranger to care and sorrow, and passed his days in inno- cence. Often does the fond idea recur ; often the pleasant period return. It will add much, my friends, it will add much to the pleasures of the reflection, if you have it in your power to recal to mind that your early days were not only innocent but use- ful, and devoted to the service of your Creator. To look back on a life, no season of which was spent in vain ; to number up the days, the months, and the years, spent in the service of God, will be inward rap- ture, only to be felt. This will cause the evening of life to smile, and make your departure like a setting sun. I shall conclude with one consideration, which I hope will have weight, and that is, if you seek God now in the days of youth you are certain of success. Go out in the SERMON III. 59 morning of youth, and yon are sure to ga- ther the manna of everlasthig Hfe. God himself will bend from his throne, and teach yonr spirits to approach unto him. They who seek him early shall find him, and shall be guarded from evil on his holy iXLOuntainc SERMON IV. CoLoss. iv, 3, Redeeming the time. A MONG those who have their time most at their own disposal, there prevails a maxim very diiFerent from that which is recommended in the text. The maxim of the world is, to spend time in idleness and folly, or, to speak in their own language, " to kill time" by dissipation and amuse- ment. Life, which appears so short upon the whole, is nevertheless so long in parti- cular parts, that vast numbers of men are overstocked with its days and hours ; their time hangs heavy on their hands ; they know not how to employ it, or what to make of themselves. As they have no fund of entertainment within, and for that reason, no happiness at home, they natur- SERMON IV. 61 ally look out for it abroad. Hence every pastime is greedily sovight after, that can banish thought, and save them from their own company. Hence places of public en- tertainment are frequented, parties of plea- sure are formed, plans of dissipation are concerted, and amusement, frivolous a- musement, becomes the serious occupation of life. Only look around you into the world ! Observe what policy and contriv- ance are continually put in practice by men, for pre-engaging every day in the week for one idleness or another ; for do- ing nothing, or worse than nothing, and that with so much ingenuity and forecast, as scarce to leave an hour upon their hands to reproach them. Such, my brethren, is the life of what is called the world, a repetition of the same childish conceptions, a perpetual round of the same trifling amvi&ements. If you had been sent on earth to play the fool ; if your pilgrimage through life were merely a jaunt of pleasure ; it would be cruel and injuriovis to awaken you from the delusion. Bvit as you profess to be Christians, and 62 SERMON IV. believe this life to be a state of moral dis- cipline and probation for the next, it will be proper and seasonable to warn you of the folly of such a course, and to point out a nobler and a happier path, where at once you may see the world, and may adorn it ; where at once you may improve your time, and enjoy life. In order to this, I shall, in the Jirst place, give you some directions for redeeming or improving the time ; and, in the fecorid place, set before you the obligations to the prac- tice of this duty. We begin with directions for redeeming the time. In the Jirst place, treasure up in your memory a store of useful knowledge, as a proper foundation of employment to the mind. It has been the complaint of discontent- cd men in all. ages, that life is a scene of duhiess, not worth a wise man's care, where the iame things come over and over like a tale thac is told, which, however enter- taining it may appear when it is new, yet. SERMON IV. 63 by frequent repetition, at last becomes te- dious and insipid. The consequence of which has been, that many, viewing the picture in this disagreeable light, have been inclined to throw off all serious concern about their duty, to give themselves up to habits of indolence and languor, and to make no other use of their time, but to study how to trifle it away. True it is in- deed, that the days of many have thus been spent in vain ; that their life has been a barren circle, within which they have been enchanted, going round and round, ever in motion, but never making any ad- vances. But although many have made life a dull round of insignificant actions, yet no man had ever occasion to make it so. It is indeed so to the brutes, who soon arrive at that pitch of perfection which is allot- ted to their natures, where they must stop short without a possibility of going far- ther. Sense, which is their highest power, moves in a narrow sphere ; its objects are few in number, and gross in kind, and therefore not only come more quickly round, but also grow more insipid at every revolu- tion. 64 SERMON IV. But man is endowed with nobler facul- ties, and is presented with nobler objects whereon to exercise and employ them. — The contemplation of all divine truth to engage his understanding ; the beauties of the natural and moral world to attract and captivate his affections ; the power, the wisdom, and the goodness of God, mani- fested in the works of Creation, of Provi- dence, and of Redemption, to exalt his admiration, and call forth all his praise. What employment can be more worthy of a rational being, or better adapted to the faculties of an immortal spirit, than thus to search out the order, the beauty, and the benevolence of nature ; to trace the Ever- lasting in his works, and to mark the im- pression of his creating hand, yet recent on a beautiful world ? Or if we turn our eyes towards the moral system, to observe a higher order of things, and a greater exertion of Divinity, in adjusting the plan of Providence, in bringing light from darkness, and good from evil, in causing the most unconnected and contrary events eo-operate to one great end, and making SERMON IV. 65 all to issue in the general good. Here is a noble path for a rational creature to tra- vel in. Whilst day unto day thus teaches wisdom, night unto night will increase pleasure. The man who is thus trained up to the admiration of the works of God, and who has tasted the spirit of these su- blime enjoyments, will not complain of the insignificance and languor of life. These studies will afford an occupation at all hours. They will make your own thoughts an entertainment to you, and open a fountain of happiness at home. They will diffuse somewhat of heaven over the mind ; they will introduce you be- forehand into the society of angels and blessed spirits above, and already prepare you to bear a part in that beautiful hymn of heaven : " Great and marvellous are " thy works, Lord God Almighty ; just ** and true are all thy ways, thou King of '' Saints." Secondly, have some end in view ; some object to employ the mind, and call forth its latent powers. Vol. L E 66 SERMON IV. In devising, or in executing a plan ; in engaging in the whirl of active life, the soul seems to unfold its being, and to en- joy itself. Man is not like the soil on which he lives, which spends its powers in exer- cise, and requires repose, in order to re- cruit its wasted strength, and prepare it for new exertions. Activity is an essential attribvite of mind. Its faculties exist only when they are exercised ; it gains a new accession of strength from every new exer- tion, and the greater acquisitions it makes, it is enabled to make still greater. It is not a brook formed by the shower ; it is a living fountain, which is for ever flowing, and yet for ever full. This will account for an observation that we have often oc- casion to make in life, that none have so little leisure as those who are entirely idle ; that none complain so much of the want of time as those who have nothing to do. The fact is, they want that energy of soul which is requisite to every exertion, and that habit of activity which applies to every thing. Indolence unmans the faculties ; impairs and debilitates the whole intellec- tual system. Those who, vmder its influx. SERMON IV. 67 ence, become a kind of perpetual sleepers, degrade themselves from the honours of their nature, and are dead while they live. A habit of activity is a most valuable ac- quisition. He who is possessed of it, is fit for all events, and may be happy in every situation. This habit is only to be acquir- ed by pursuing some great object that may agitate the mind. Think not that your labour may be spent in vain. Nothing is in vain that rouses the soul : nothing in vain that keeps the etherial fire alive and glowing. The prospect of something com- ing forward ; the pleasure and the pride which the mind takes in its own action, beget insensibly that habit of indvistry which will abide through life. thirdly, set apart fixed and stated hours for the important duties of life. It is the misfortune of great part of men, that they have no fixed plan of act- ing. They live extempore. They act at random. They are always led by instan- taneous impulse, and are driven to and fro as inclination varies. Their life rolls on E 2 68 SERMON IV. through a course of mispent time, and un* connected years, and appears upon review, like the path of a cloud in the air, which leaves no trace behind it. It was the cus- tom of the great Alfred, one of the Eng- lish kings, to divide the day into three parts, which he measured by the burning of tapers. One part he employed in the cares of the government ; another part he dedicated to the cultivation of the liberal arts ; the third he devoted to religion. It would be happy for you, my brethren, if, in this respect, you would imitate such an illustrious example. Let, at least, one part of your time be devoted to the service of God. When the morning ascends from the east, let it be your first care to offer up your earliest thoughts as incense to heaven ; to add your praises to the hymns and hosannahs of the angels in light, and spirits of just men made perfect. When the shades of the night fall around you, let it be your constant care to implore the pardoning mercy of God for the errors of the past day, and to commit yourselves to the protection of His Providence who slum- bers not nor sleeps. In particular, let this SERMON IV. 69 day, which is sacred to the memory of a Saviour's resurrection from the dead ; which is a memorial of the fall accomplishment of our redemption ; let this day be set a- part for holy contemplation on the won- ders of redeeming love, on the height, and depth, and breadth, and length of the love of Jesus to our race, which passeth all un- derstanding ; which prompted him to fore- go the glories of his divine nature for a time, to take upon him the robe of hu- manity, to lead a life of sorrows upon earth, and to suffer a cruel and ignomini- ous, and an accursed death. Let us con- template this amiable and divine love, till we are changed into the same image, and feel within ourselves an earnest and antici- pation of that everlasting Sabbath of joy which is reserved for the righteous in the world to come, when time shall be no more. In the fourth place, endeavour to distin- guish your days by some good deed. As those who are intent to amass a for- tune, attend to small sums, in like manner, if you would wish to improve your time, 70 SERMON IV. you must take care not to lose a day. Many are the ways, and frequent the oc- casions, which daily present themselves, of adding to your true happiness, of improv- ing your natures, and promoting the in* terests of society. You have all the world before you where to act, and the whole of human life as a theatre of virtue. Through the assistance of divine grace, conquer the excess of passion, correct some irregular desire, and obtain a victory over the vices that war against the soul. Let your goodness extend to society, and spread over the land, like the light of the morn- ing. Can there be any employment so a- greeable to a benevolent mind, and so con- genial to the spirit of Christianity, as to assuage the boisterous passions, and recon- cile the jarring interests of men; to open the eye which prejudice has shut ; to charm down the spirit of party, and to unite all your neighbours in one great family of love ? Is not the employment god-like ; is not the joy divine, to brighten up the face that was overcast with sadness ; to wipe the tears from the cheek of sorrow ; to turn the voice of mourning into the notes SERMON IV. 71 of joy ; to make misery and woe vanish before us like darkness before the sun ; to refresh with showers of blessings the dry and barren land wherein no water is, and, co-operating with a beneficent Providence, to watch for the happiness of the world ? Where is there any one so destitute of the gifts of grace, of nature, and of fortune, as to have no mite to throw into the pub- lic treasury ? He who cannot pretend to enlighten or reform the world, may in- struct his ignorant, or comfort his afflict- ed neighbour : he who cannot communi* cate instruction, may give alms. If even these are not in your power, the gate of heaven is ever open ; the throne of grace is ever accessible ; and by your intercession with God, society may reap more benefit, than from the boimty of the opulent, or the labours of the learned. It was thus that Job improved his time, as we learn from his affecting complaint, when he re- viewed the days of his prosperity : " O that ** I were as in months past, as in the days ** when God preserved me ; as in the days ** of my youth, when the candle of the ** Lord shined upon my head, when the 72 SERMON IV. Cc nor lamentations, nor bitter upbraidings, will ever recal that golden period. The star sets to rise no more ; the flood rolls away, never to return. Your own experience, my aged brethren ^ will urge the instant necessity of redeem- ing the time. Consider the fate that a- v/aits you soon. A few steps will bring you to the threshold of that house which is appointed for all living. Man that is born of a woman, is of few days. He com- cth forth as a flower, and is cut down ; he flieth as a shadow, and continvieth not. By the unalterable law of nature, all things here hasten to au end. An irresistible ra« pidity hurries every thing to the abyss of eternity ; to that awful abyss, to which all ' things go, and from which nothing re- turn??. The great drama of life is perpe SERMON IV. 85 tually going on. Age succeeds to age, and generation to generation Not long ago, our fathers trod the path which their fa- thers had trodden before them ; we have come into their room, and now supply their places. In a little time we must re- sign to another race, who in their turn also shall pass away, and give place to a new generation. The race of men, saith a Jew- ish writer, is like the leaves of the trees. They come forth in the spring, and clothe the wood with robes of green. In autumn they wither ; they fall ; the winter wdnd scatters them on the earth. Another race comes in the season, and clothes the forest again. Consider the world, my friends, as you 5aw it at first, and as you see it now. You have marked vicissitude and alteration in all human affairs. You have seen changes in almost every department of life. You have seen new ministers at the court, new judges on the bench, and new priests at the altar of the Lord. You have seen dif- ferent kings upon the throne. You have -seen peace and war, and war and peac^ $^ SERMON IV. again. How many of your equals in age have you survived ? How many younger than you, have you carried to the grave ? Year after year hath made a blank in the number of your friends. Your own coun- try hath insensibly become a strange land, and a new world hath risen around you, before you perceived that the old had pass- ed away. The same fate that hath taken away your friends, awaits you. Even now the decree is gone forth. The king of terrors hath received his commission, and is now on his way. If you have misem- ployed your time, that talent which God hath put into your hand ; if your life is marked with guilt or folly, how will you answer to your own heart at that awful hour ? For, previous to the general doom, Almighty God hath appointed a day of judgment in the breast of every man. The last hour is ordained to pass sentence on all the rest. The actions of your former life, will there meet you again. How will you then answer at the bar of your own heart, when the collected crimes of a length- ened life, at one view, d\2i\\Jlash upon the mind ; when the ghosts of your departed SERMON IV. 87 hours, of those hours which you have mur- deredy shall rise up in terrible array, and look you in the face ? — What would you then give for that time which you now throw away ? What would the wretch who lies on a bed of agony, extended and groan- ing, who feels in his heart the poisoned ar- row of death ; who, looking back on his past life, turns aside from the view ; who, looking forward to fumrity, discerns no beam of hope to break that utter darkness which overwhelms him ; what would he then give for those hours which you now despise, to make his peace with Heaven, and fit him for his passage into the world unknown ? P^emember, my friends, that this is no imaginary case ; it is a case which may soon be your own. Be wise, therefore, while wisdom can avail, and save your- selves from the agony of repenting in bit- terness of soul, v/hen all repentance may be in vain. To sum up all ; my friends, the time is short. We are as guests in a strange land, who tarry but one night. We wander up apd down in a place of graves. We read 88 SERMON IV. the epitaphs upon the tombs of the deceas- ed. We shed a few tears over the ashes of the dead ; and, in a httle time, we need from our surviving friends the tears we paid to the memory of our friends departed. Time is precious. The time is now pass- ing that fixes our fate for ever. The hours are, at this instant, on the wing, w^hich carry along with them your eternal happi- ness or eternal misery. Time is irrecoverable. The clock is wound up once for all ; the hand is adr vancing, and, in a little time, it strikes your last hour. SERMON V. Psalm, iv, 4, Stand in aive, — TTT^HEN the Patriarch Jacob departed from his father's house, and enter- ed on that state of pilgrimage, which only terminated with his life, he lighted on a certain place, where he tarried all the night. Agreeably to the simplicity of the ancient world, he laid himself down to res^: upon the open plain ; without any pillow but a stone of the field ; and without any covering but the curtains of heaven. A stranger he was to the elegance and luxu- ry of after times, but he enjoyed pleasures of a higher kind. The God of his fathers w^as with him. In the patriarchal ages, before a public revelation was given to the v/orld, the Deity frequently appeared to 90 SERMON V. holy men in dreams, and visions of the night. Accordingly, Jacob, in his dream, beheld a ladder set upon the earth, the top of it reaching unto the heavens, and upon it the angels of God ascending and de- scending : and behold ! the Lord stood above, and said, " I am the Lord God of '* Abraham, thy Father, and the God of " Isaac ; the land whereon thou liest, to ** thee wrill I give it, and to thy seed ; and " thy seed shall be as the dust of the earth ; ** thou shalt spread abroad to the east and " to the west ; to the south and to the ** north ; and in thee, and in thy seed, shall *' all the families of the earth be blessed." Did the Patriarch awake in a rapture of joy, when he had been thus so highly favoured of the Lord ? You shall hear : '^ And Jacob awaked out of his sleep, and *' he said, Surely the Lord is in this place, *' and I knew it not : and he was afraid, ** and said, How dreadful is this place ! " This is none other but the house of God, ** and this is the gate of heaven/' Though he had ascended in the visions of God, and beheld scenes of glory which few are ad* 5 SERMON V. 91 mitted to see ; though he had received the most gracious promises of personal safety, of prosperous increase to his descendants, and of the Messiah who was to spring from his race, nevertheless an impression of reverence and awe was the last which remained upon his mind. In like manner, my friends, although you have the near prospect of commemo- rating the most joyful event which signa- lizes the annals of time, yet if, at the ap- proaching solemnity, God shall be in this place, you will experience that state of mind which the Patriarch was in when he awoke from his dream, and an impression of seriousness and awe will keep its hold of your heart. There is a degree of re- verence and holy fear which ever attends religion. Even when God manifests his mercy, it is, that he may be feared. Hence we are called to serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice before him with reverence. All objects make an impression upon the mind correspondent to their own nature. A beautiful object calls forth pleasing ideas, and excites a gay emotion. A 92 SERMON V, grand object leaves upon the mind an im- pression of grandeur. In all sublime scenes, there is a mixture of the awful. The view of the skies by night ; the moon moving in the brightness of her course ; and the host of heaven in silent majesty perform- ing their eternal rounds, strike an awe and adoration into the mind ; we feel divinity present ; we bpw down and worship in the temple v/hicb the Most High God hath built with his hand, and hath filled with his presence. The presence of a respect- able character raises a similar impression on the mind ; and the man who sets the Lord always before him, will feel his heart impressed with chat mixture of seri- ousness and holy fear, which the Psalmist here recommends, when he says, ** Stand *' in aweo" In further treating upon this subject, shall, in the Jirst place, point out the ad- vantages of this seriousness and reverence which we ought to maintain upon our minds ; and, in the second place, shew you the suit, bleness of this temper of mind to pur present state. SERMON V. hs The Jirst thing proposed, is to point out the advantages of this seriousness and re- verence which we ought to maintain upoii our minds. The great art of happiness consists in regulating, with propriety, the various of- fices of human hfe. To allow no duty to interfere with another ; to prevent devo- tion from growing aiistef e ; aild to restrain enjoyment from being criminal, is the mark of true wisdom and of true piety. Every department of life is beautiful in its season. There is a time to be cheerful, and a time to be serious : an hour for so- litude, and an hour for society. Provi- dence hath appointed great part of our happiness to consist in society. We find, in every situation of life, that it is not good for us to be alone. Hence, civil so- ciety at first was instituted ; hence at- tachments are daily formed ; and man h cemented to man by every feeling of na- ture, and every tie of the heart. But, as wc abuse and corrupt every thing, the blessing of society is often turned into a, curse* To innocent cheerfulness, a wan- 94 SERMON V. ton levity succeeds, which banishes sober thought, and laughs at every thing that is serious. How often, in life, do we meet with the sons and daughters of folly, whose sole business is amusement ; whose life is one continued scene of idleness and dissipation ; everlasting triflers, whose vo- latile minds are perpetually on the wing, as if they had been sent to this earth merely to play the fool. Not that I condemn cheerful society and innocent enjoyment. When God gives, let man enjoy. Let us drink from the fountain of joy, when we are sure there is no poison in the c\ip. But, my brethren, I miust remind you, that but a narrow in- terval, often but a single step, lies be- tween enjoyment and excess ; between the voice of mirth and the roar of riot ; be- tween innocent entertainment, and a loose and licentious indulgence. Look back on your past life, and tell me, O man ! when w^as it that you felt yourself most strongly inclined to go astray ? When was it that you found yourself seduced in thought, to wander from the paths of pu- SERMON V. IB rity and uprightness ? Was it not in the hour of levity and indulgence ? Did not your heart betray you when your spirits were elevated ; when you had banished so- ber recollection, and delivered yourself over to the delirum of excessive joy ? Here then is the advantage of seriousness and reverence. It places a guard upon the heart. It keeps the world and its tempta- tions at a due distance. It consecrates the mind in which it resides, as with the pre- sence of the Deity. A heart thus impress- ed with the fear of God, will not so rea- dily be assaulted by the tempter ; nor so easily yield to the temptation. An im- pure and profane guest will hardly venture upon hallowed ground, or dare to violate the sanctity of a temple. The presence of a good man is a check upon the turbu- lence and uproar of the giddy ; they are inspired with a reverence for his charac- ter ; they feel how awful goodness is, and restrain themselves from those indecent levities to which they are accustomed. If. a regard for man has such influence upon the mind, what may the fear of God be suppose^ to have ? The man who is possess- Q6 SERMON f. cd of this holy fear, sets the Lord always before hinii He enters beforehand into heaven, and dwells in the presence of God. And canst thou, O man ! defile the purity of heaven with the deeds of hell ? Barest thou violate the law in the presence of the Lawgiver ? Barest thou sin in the very face of the Maker ? Wilt thou make the Judge of all the earth the witness of thy wicked actions, the beholder of thy loose moments ? — No. — In such a presence thou will banish all impure thoughts, and all unhallowed affections, like Moses at the burning bush, because the place whereon thou standest is holy ground. Thus, of itself, this serious frame of mind is the guardian and the protector of religion ; and it also associates with other Tirtues which belong to the Christian cha- racter. Those who are acquainted with the nature of the mind, know the influ- ence and extent of association upon human life and manners. It is not a single qua- lity that marks and characterizes a man ; the virtues and the vices come in a train ; it is the tempter of the soul which is all iB, SERMON V. §7 all in the conduct of human hfe. But to the temper and disposition here recom- mended, the most respectable attribvites of the mind, and the most amiable qualities of the heart, are allied and peculiar. In the first place, this serious frame of mind cherishes those higher virtues of the soul, which, in the emphatic language of the Sacred Scripture, are called " the ar- '* mour of God/' In the solemn silence of the mind are formed those great resolu- tions which decide the fate of men. That magnanimity which rises superior to the events of life ; that fortitude which bears up under the pressure of affliction ; and that Christian heroism which, neither mov- ed with the threatenings of pain, nor with the blandishments of pleasure, holds on re- joicing to the end ; are all of them but expressions of this character, varied and diversified according to the occurrences of life. They are the light, the giddy, and the volatile, who are the sport of caprice, or the prey of passion. Persons of such a character, have no permanent principle of action ; they are the sinners or the saints Vol. L ' G 03 SERMON V. of accident ; and assume every folly to which the fashion of the world gives its sanction. Very different is the serious man who communes with his own heart. He follows not the multitude. He possess- es that strenuous and steady mind, which walks by its own light, which holds its purpose to the last ; that self-deciding spi- rit which is prepared to act, to suffer, or to die, as duty requires. Being thus, by the grace of God, the master of his own mind, he is above the world ; and through prosperity or adversity, through life or death, goes forth conquering, and to con- quer. He is not guided by events like the giddy multitvide, who fall mto any form by the fortuitous concourse of accidents ; but, imitating the Providence of Heaven, he takes a direction of events, and makes the course of human affairs bend to his purposes, and terminate in his honour. Further, this temper and disposition is no less favourable to the milder virtues of hu- manity. A serious mind is the companion of a feeling heart. It is akin to that vir- tuous sensibilisy, from which all the sym- SERMON V. 99 pathetic emotions are derived ; and readi- ly associates with those good affections which constitute the most amiable part of our nature. The thoughtless and the dis- sipated are unconcerned spectators of hu- man happiness or misery ; they mar not their enjoyments by rushing into foreign woe ; and are never so much in earnest, as to give a tear to the distresses of mankind. *' They lie upon beds of ivory," saith the Prophet ; " they stretch themselves upon *' their couches ; they chant to the sound ** of the viol ; and they anoint themselves ** with the chief ointments ; but they are ** not grieved for the affliction of their *' brethren." But he v^ho feareth God, v/ill also regard man. The hour of in- cense has always befen the hour of almsgiv- ing. Whilst the heart is lifted up in de- votion to God, the hands will be stretched out in beneficence to man. Think not, mv friends, that these are duties of inferior importance, and not proper to be called up to your remembrance upon this occa* sion. The ordinance v/hich you are soon to celebrate, is the communion of saints, and the feast of love. The cup of blessing G2 iOO SERMON V- which we bless, saith the Apostle, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ ? The bread which we break, is it not the communion of the body of Christ ? As wc are all partakers of that one bread, so by that participation, we being many, become one body. Being thus the members of one body, the great law follows, which he af- terwards lays down, That if one member suffers, all the members should suffer with it; and if one member rejoices, all the members should rejoice. The second thing proposed, was to shew you the suitableness of this temper of mind to our present state. And, in tht first place^ it is suited to that dark and uncertain state of being in which we now live. Human life is not formed to answer those high expectations which, in the era of youth and imagination, we are apt to entertain. When we first set out in life, we bid defiance to the evil day ; we indulge ourselves in dreams and visions of romantic bless : and fondly lay the scene •f perfect and uninterrupted happiness for SERMON V. 101 the time to come. But experience soon un- deceives us. We awake ,^and find that it was but a dream. We make but few steps in life, without finding the world to be a tur- bulent scene ; we soon experience the changes that await us, and feel the thorns of the wilderness wherein we dwell. Our hopes are frequently blasted in the bud ; our designs are defeated in the very mo- ment of expectation, and we meet with sorrow, and vexation, and disappointment, on all hands. There are lives besides our own^ in which we are deeply interested ; lives in which our happiness is placed, and on which our hopes depend. Just when we have laid a plan of happy life ; when, after the experience of years, we have found out a few chosen friends, and have begun to enjoy that little circle in which we would wish to live and to die, an unexpected stroke disappoints our hopes^ and lays all our schemes in the dust. When, after much labour and care, w^e have reared the goodly stucture ; when we have fenced it, as we fondly imagine, from every storm that blows, and indulge the pleasing hope, that it will always en- G3 i02 SERMON V. dure, an invisible hand interposes, and overturns it from the foundation. Who knoweth v^hat awaits him in hfe ? Who knov^^eth the changes through which he is destined to pass ? Son of prosperity ! Thou now lookest forth from thy high tower ; thou now gloriest in thine excel- lence ; thou sayest that thy mountain stands strong, and that thou art firm as the cedar of Lebanon, — Bnt stand in awe. Before the mighty God of Jacob, and by the blast of the breath of his nostrils, the mountain hath been overturned, and the cedar in Lebanon hath fallen like the leaf before the whirlwind. At this very mo- ment of time, the wheel is in motion that reverses the lot of men ; that brings the prosperous to the dust, and lays the mighty low. Now, O man ! thou re- joicest in thy strength, but know, that for thee the bed of languishing is spread ; pale, ghastly, and stretched on thy couch^ thou shalt number the tedious hours, the restless days, the wearisome nights, that are appointed to thee, till thy soul shall be ready to " choose death rather thi^n *^ life." Thou now removest from thee SERMON V. los the evil day, and say est, in thy heart, thou shalt never see sorrow ; but remem- ber the changes of this mortal life ; for thee the * cup of trembhng" is prepar- ed, and the '' wine of astonishment is *' poured out." How often, in an in- stant, doth a hand unseen shift the scene of the world ! The calmest and the still- est hour precedes the whirlwind, and it hath thundered in the serenest sky. The monarch hath drawn the chariot of state in which he was wont to ride in triumph, and the greatest who ever awed the world, have moralized at the turn of the wheel. In the second place, the propriety of this temper will appear, if we consider the scene that soon awaits us, and the awful change of being that we have to undergo. The sentence of the Lord is passed upon all flesh. Man who art born of a woman ! one day thou must die. The decree is gone forth, and the time appointed for its fulfilment is approaching fast Short is the period which is alloted to mortal man. In a little time the scene changes, and the places that knew us shall know us no more- 104 SERMON V. We bid an eternal adieu to all below the snn ; we enter on a new state of being, and appear in the immediate presence of God. After death comes the judgment. Thou must answer, O man ! to - the Searcher of hearts, for the deeds done in the body. The actions of thy past life shall rise up to thy remembrance ; the secrets of thy soul shall be disclosed ; and thy eternal doom be fixed by God, the Judge of all. In thy last moments thou wilt be serious^ and stand in awe. The most thoughtless sinner will stand aghast, and the stoutest heart will tremble at that awful, that part- ing hour, when, to the closing eye, God appears , with as full conviction, as if the cvirtain between both worlds was with- drawn, and the Judge in very deed descend- ed to his tribunal. How serious wilt thou be when surrounded by the sad circle of thy weeping friends, thou readest in their altered looks, that thy hour is come ; w hen cut off from all connection with mortality, thou takest thy last look of what thou heldest dear in life ; when the cold sweat, the shivering limb, and the voice faulter- ing in the throat, announce thy departure SERMON V. liOS into the world unknown ! What manner of persons ought we to be, wiio have such events awaiting us ! Ought we not to stand in awe ; to join trembUng with our mirth; to commune with our hearts alone, and be still as in the presence of that God, before whose tribunal we have soon to appear ? In the third place, this frame of mind is peculiarly proper for you now, as a pre- paration for that solemnity which you are soon to celebrate. Holy is every ordinance of the Lord ; but this is the holiest of all, and should inspire us with reverence and godly fear. You are to be engaged in the most solemn ordinance of our religion. You are to be employed in the most im- portant work of yovu* lives, to seal your vows in the faith of everlasting redemption. You are going to transact with the God of Glory, before whom ten thousand times ten thousand angels and archangels bow down and admire and adore. You are about to commemorate the most tremend- ous event which is to be found in the re- cords of time ; that scene which made the sun grow dark, and which the earth trem- 106 SERMON V. bled to behold. God shews himself to be awful, even when he manifests his mercy, and causes all his goodness to pass before you. When he blesses men with the great- est testimony of his love, it is by smiting his own Son ; when the gate of heaven is «et open to the world, it is opened by the blood of One who is higher than the heave?is. Whilst thou rejoicest therefore at the re- membrance of thy redempcion, think with wonder upon the ransom by which it was accomplished and implore the assistance of the Divine Spirit, that you may serve God acceptably, with reverence and godly fear. SERMON VL Job XXX, 23. For I know that thou wilt brhig me to deaths and to the house appointed for all living. T HIS book of Job contains the history of a righteous man, fallen from the height of prosperity, into scenes of great distress. Almost every affliction which falls to the lot of mortal man, embittered his life. His goods were taken away by robbers ; his body was smitten by a loath- some and tormenting disease ; his family was cut off, and all his company made de- solate by a sudden stroke from heaven ; his surviving friends proved miserable comforters, and, instead of relieving, add- /?d to his afflictions. His head was b«\ve 108 SERMON VL to every blast of adversity, and his heart bled with all the varieties of pain. In the course of his complaint, he utters the ge- nuine voice of sorrow, and pours forth his soul in lamentation and woe. He sets be- fore us the evil day ; he shews us the dark side of things, and presents to view those shades in the picture of hum.an life, which must one day meet our eye. From these calamities, he passes, by a natural transi- tion, to the consideration of the last evil in human life :~" I know that thou wilt " bring me to death, and to the house ap- ** pointed for all living." Man is a serious being. There is a string in the heart which accords to the voice of sorrow, and impressions of grief take the strongest hold of the mind. There is a time when solitude has a charm ; when cheerfulness gives place to melancholy ; and when the house of mourning is better suited to the soul than the house of mirth. Even our amusements often partake of a serious turn. For the sake of amusement, W€ give our attention to histories of woe ; we sit spectators to the scene of sorrow, 4 SERMON Vt 109 and devote the hours to melancholy and to tears. And yet, by a strange perversion of mind, though we rush into foreign woe, and take delight in weeping for the fate of others, yet our own departure excites little attention or regard, notwithstanding the many warnings which tell us that here we have no continuing city ; although few weeks elapse without being marked with the funeral of a neighbour or a friend, we remain in a criminal indifference ; the tear is soon dried upon our cheeks, and we muse upon the fate of our friends with unconcern. If, by removing the thought of death, men could remove the day of death, their conduct would admit of an excuse. But whether you think of it or not, death approaches, and the want of preparation will only serve to sharpen the sting, by the surprise with which it may strike. Since we know then assuredly, that God will bring us to death, and to the house appointed for all living, let us consider, in the Jirst place, the certainty of its approach- ing soon ; secondly, the time and manner no SERMON VI. of its arrival; and, thirdly, xht change which it introduces. In xht first place, let us consider the cer- tainty of death's approaching soon. All the works of nature, in this inferior system, seem only made to be destroyed. Man is not exempted. There is a principle of mortality in our frame, and, as if we were only born to die, the first step we take in life, is a step to the grave. It was not always so. Adam came from the hands of his Creator perfect and immortal. The Almighty created man after his own image. He planted in his frame the seeds of eter- nal life, to grow and flourish through a succession of ages. This noble shoot, v/hich the hand of the Most High had planted, was blasted by sin. When man became a sinner, he became mortal. The doom was pronounced, that, after few and evil days, he should return to the dust from w^hence he was taken. Since that time, as soon as our eyes open on the light, we come under the law of mortality, and the sen- tence of death is passed. In the morning SERMON VL 111 of our day, we set out on our journey for eternity ; thither we are all fast tending ; and day and night we travel on without intermission. There is no standing still on this road. To this great rendezvous of the sons of Adam we are continually drawing nearer and nearer. Our life is for ever on the wing, although we mark not its flight. Our motion down the stream of time is so smooth and silent, that though we are for ever moving, we perceive it not, till we arrive at the ocean of eternity. Even now, death is doing his work. At this very moment of time, multitudes are stretched on that bed from which they shall rise no more. The blood is ceasing to flow ; the breath is going out ; and the spirit taking its departure for the world unknown. When we look back on our former years, how many do we find who began the jour- ney of life along with us, and promised to themselves long life and happy days, cut off in the midst of their career, and fall- en at our side ! They have but gone be- fore us ; one day we must follow. O man! 112 SEIIMON VI. who now tejoicest in the pride of life, sind looking abroad, sayest in thy heart, thou shalt never see sorrow, for thee the bed of death is spread ; the worm calls for thee to be her companion ; thou must enter the dominions of the dead, and be gathered to the dust of thy fathers. If then death be certainly approaching fast, let us learn the true value of life. If death be at hand^ then certainly time is precious. Now the day shines, and the Master calls us ; in a little time the night cometh, when no man can work. To-day, therefore, hear the voice which calls you to heaven. " Now ** is the accepted time ; now is the day of " salvation/' — ** Whatsoever thy hand *' findeth to do, do it with thy might ; for " there is no work, nor device, nor knov^^- ** ledge, nor wisdom, in the grave, wdiither " thou goest." In the second place, we may consider the time and manner of the arrival of death. Death is called in Scripture, the land ivithout any order ; and without any order the king of terrors makes his approaches / SERMON 'VI. 113 in the world. The commission given from on high, was, " Go into the world : ** Strike; strike so, that the dead may ** alarm the living." Hence it is, that we seldom see men running the full career of life ; growing old among their childrens' children, and then falling asleep in the arms of nature, as in the embraces of a kind mother ; coming to the grave like a shock of corn fully ripe ; like flowers that shut up at the close of the day. Death walks through the world without any or- der. He delights to surprise, to give a shock to mankind. Hence, he leaves the wretched to prolong the line of their sor- rows, and cuts off the fortunate in the midst of their career ; he suffers the aged to survive himself, to outlive life, to stalk about the ghost of what he was, and aims his arrow at the heart of the youug who puts the evil day far from him. He de- lights to see the feeble carrying the vigor- ous to the grave, and the father building the tomb of his children. Often when his approaches are least expected, he bursts at once upon the world, like an earthquake in the dead of night, or thimder in the Vol. I. H 114 SERMON VI. serenest sky. All ages and conditions lie sweeps away without distinction ; the young man just entering into life, high in hope, elated with joy, and [promising to himself a length of years ; the father of a family from the embraces of his v/ife and child- ren ; the man of the world, when his de- signs are ripening to execution, and the long expected crisis of enjoyment seems to approach. These and all others are hur- ried promiscuously off the stage, and laid without order in the common grave. Every path in the world leads to the tomb, and every hour in life hath been to some the last hour. Without order, too, is the manner of death's approach. The king of terrors wears a thousand forms ; pains and diseases, a numerous and a direful train, compose his host. Marking out unhappy man for their prey, they attack the seat of life or the seat of understanding ; hurry him of the stage in an instant, or make him pine by slow degrees : blasting the bloom of life, or, waiting till the decline, according to the pathetic picture of Solo- SERMON VL 115 mon, *^ They make the strong men bow " themselves, and the keepers of the house ** tremble; make the grinders cease ; bring *' the daughters of music low ; darken the " sun, and the moon, and the stars ; scat- *' ter fears in the way, and make desire it- '* self to fail, vmtil the silver cord be loosed, ^' and the golden bowl be broken, when *^ the dust returns to the dust as it was, " and the spirit ascends to God who gave '^ it." In the tMrd place, we have to consider the change which death introduces. Man was made after the image of God ; and the human form divine, the seat of so many heavenly faculties, graces, and vir- tues, exhibits a temple not unworthy of its Maker. Men in their collective capa- city, and united as nations, have display- ed a wide field of exertion and of glory. The globe hath been covered with monu- ments of their power, and the voice of history transmits their renown from one generation to another. But when we pass from the living world to the dead, What Hz 116 SERMON VL a sad picture do we behold ! The fall and desolation of human nature ; the ruins of man ; the dust and ashes of many genera- tions scattered over the earth. The high and the low ; the mighty and the mean ; the king and the cottager, lie blended to- gether, -without any order. The worm is the companion, is the sister of him, who thought himself of a different species from the rest of mankind. A few feet of earth contain the ashes of him who conquered the globe ; the shadows of the long night stretch over all alike ; the monarch of disorder, the great leveller of mankind, lays all on the bed of clay in equal mean- ness. In the course of time, the land of desolation becomes still more deso- late ; the things that were, become as if they had never been ; Babylon is a ruin ; her heroes are dust ; not a trace remains of the glory that shone over the earth, and not a stone to tell where the master of the world is laid. Such, in general, is the humiliating aspect of the tomb ; but let us take a nearer view of the house appointed for all living. Man sets out in the morn- ing of his day, high in hope, and elated SERMON VI. 117 with joy. The most important objects to him are the companions of his journey. They set out together in the career of life, and, after many mutual endearments, walk hand in hand through the paths of childhood and of youth. It is with a gid- dy recollection we look back on the past, when we consider the number and the value of those, whom unforeseen disaster and the hand of destiny hath swept from our side. Alas ! when the awful man- date comes from on high concerning men, to change the countenance, and to send them away, what sad spectacles do they become ! The friends whom we knew, and valued, and loved ; our companions in the path of life ; the partners of our tender hours, with whom we took sweet counsel, and walked in company to the house of God, have passed to the land of forgetful- ness, and have no more connection with the living world. Low lies the head that was once crowned with honour. Silent is the tongue to whose accents we surrender- ed the soul, and to whose language of friendship and affection we wished to listen for ever. Bcamless is the eye, and closed H 3 118 SERMON VI. in niglit, which looked serenity, and sweet- ness, and love. The face that was to us as the face of an angel, is mangled and de- formed ; the heart that glowed with the purest fire, and beat with the best affec- tions, is now become a clod of the valley. But shall it always continue so ? If a man die, shall he live again ? There is hope of a tree if it be cut down ; but man giv- eth up the ghost, and where is he ? Has the breath of the Almighty, which ani- mated his frame, vanished into the air ? Is he who triumphed in the hope of im- mortality, inferior to the worm, his com- panion in the tomb ? Will light never rise on the long night of the grave ? Does the mighty flood that has swept away the na- tions and the ages, ebb to flow no more ? Have the wise and the worthy ; the pious and the pure ; the generous and the just ; the great and the good ; the excellent ones of the earth, who, from age to age, have shone brighter than all the stars of hea- ven, withdrawn into the shade of anni- hilation, and set in darkness to rise no more ? No. While " the dust returns to the SERMON VI. 119 <* eartli as it was, the spirit shall retura ** unto God who gave it." Life and im- mortality are brought to light by the Gos- pel of Christ. " We know, that if our *• earthly house of this tabernacle were ** dissolved, we have a building of God, *' an house not raade with hands, eternal '* in the heavens." The periods of human life passing away ; the certainty of the dissolution which awaits us, and the frequent examples of mortality, which continually strike our view, lead us to reflect with seriousness upon the house appointed for all living. Death is the great teacher of mankind ; the voice of wisdom comes from the tomb ; reflections, which shew us the vanity, will teach us the value of life. Such medita- tions are particularly suited to beings like us, who are subject to infirmities and de- fects. For such is the weakness of hu- man nature in this imperfect state ; such is the strength of temptation in this evil world, that frail man is often led astray before he is aware. The enemy of the soul attacks us in every quarter ; ap- 120 SERMON VI. proaches often under false colours, and tries every dsiguise, to deceive and to destroy. Vice often borders on virtue ; the narrow- path and the broad way lie so near, that it is difficult to distinguish them, so as to or- der our goings aright. Inadvertence may frequently betray ; the impetuosity of passion may precipitate, and the gentle- ness of our own nature mislead us into steps fatal to our peace. I speak not of wicked men, who acknowledge no guide but their passions, and submit to no law, but what one vice imposes upon another. I talk of the sincere, and the good. The most watchful christian has his unguarded moments ; the most prudent man speaks unadvisedly with his lips, and the meekest lets the sun go down upon his wrath, Alas ! man in his best estate is altogether vanity, and always stands in need of the lesson from the tomb. " O that they were ** wise," said Moses, ** that they vmderstood ** this, that they would consider their lat- *' ter end !" SERMON VII. 1 Cor, xv, 55, 57. death I Where is thy sting P grave ! Where is thy victory ? — Thanks be to God who giveth Its the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ. npHE Messiah is foretold in ancient pro- -*■ phecy, as a magnificent Conqueror. His victories were celebrated, and hir tri- umphs were sung, long before the time of his appearance to Israel. *' Who is this," saith the prophet Isaiah, pointing him out to the Old Testament Church, ** Who is " this that cometh from Edom ; with dyed '* garments from Bozrah ? This that is " glorious in his apparel, travelling in the " greatness of his strength ?" *' I have set my King upon my holy hill of Zion. (( 122 SERMON VIL " — I shall give him the heathen for his * inheritance, and the uttermost parts of " the earth for his possession." As a Con- queror, he had to destroy the works of the great enemy of mankind ; and to overcome death, the king of terrors. The method of accomplishing this vic- tory, w^as as surprising as the love v^rhich gave it birth. " Forasmuch as the child- ** ren are partakers of flesh and blood, he " himself likewise took part of the same, " that through his own death, he might " destroy him that had the power of death, ** that is the devil, and deliver them, who, " through fear of death, were all their life- " time subject to bondage." According- ly, his passion on the cross, which you have this day commemorated, was the very vic- tory which he obtained. The hour in which he suffered, was also the hour in which he overcame. Then he bruised the head of the old serpent, who had seduced our first parents to rebel against their Mak- er ; then he disarmed the king of terrors, who had usurped dominion over the na- tions ; then triumphing over the legions SERMON VII. 123 of hell, and the powers of darkness, he made a shew of them openly. Not for himself, but for us did he conquer. The Captain of our salvation fought, that we might overcome. He obtained the victory, that we may join in the triumphal song, as we now do, when we repeat these words of the Apostle ; " O death I where is thy *' sting ? O grave ! where is thy victory ?'' It is the glory of the Christian religion, that it abounds with consolations under all the evils of life ; nor is its benign in- fluence confined to the course of life, but even extends to death itself. It delivers us from the agony of the last hour ; sets us free from the fears which then perplex the timid ; from the horrors which haunt the offender, though penitent, and from all the darkness which involves our mortal state. So complete is the victory we obtain, that Jesvis Christ is said in Scripture to have abolished death. The evils in death, from which Jesus Christ sets us free, are the following : In xht first place, the doubts and fears that 124. SERMON VII. are apt to perplex the mind, from the un- certainty in which a future state is involv- ed. Secondly^ the apprehensions of wrath and forebodings of punishments, proceed- ing from the consciousness of sin. T^hirdly^ the fears that arise in the mind upon the avsrful transition from this world to the next. In the^rj-^ place, Jesus Christ gives us victory over death, by delivering us from the doubts and fears which arose in the minds of those who knew not the gospel, from the uncertainty in which a future state w^as involved. Without Divine Revelation, men wan- dered in the dark with respect to an after life. Unassisted reason could give but im- perfect information on this important ar- ticle. Conjectures, in place of discoveries, presumptions, in place of demonstrations, were all thaf'it could offer to the inquir- ing mind. The unenlightened eye could not clearly pierce the cloud which veiled futurity from mortal view. The light of nature reached little farther than the li- SERMON VII. 125 mits of this globe, and shed but a feeble ray upon the region beyond the grave. Hence, those heathen nations, of whom the Apostle speaks, are described as sor-- rowing and having no hope. And whence could reason derive complete information, that there was a state of immortality be- yond the grave ? Consult with appearances in nature, and you find but few intima- tions of a future life. Destruction seems to be one of the great laws of the system. The various forms of life are indeed pre« served ; but while the species remains, the individual perishes. Every thing that you behold around you, bears the marks of mortality and the symptoms of decay. He only who is, and was, and is to come, is without any variableness or shadow of turning. Every thing passes away. A great and mighty river, for ages and cen- turies, has been rolling on, and sw^ceping away all that ever lived, to the vast abyss of eternity. On that darkness light does not rise. From that unknown country none return. On that devouring deep, which has swallowed up every thing, no vestige appears of the things that were. 126 SERMON VIL There are particular appearances also which might naturally excite an alarm for the future. The human machine is so con- stituted, that soul and body seem often to decay together. To the eye of sense, as the beast dies, so dies the man. Death seems to close the scene, and the grave to put a final period to the prospects of man. The words of Job beautifully express the anxiety of the mind on this subject. '' If ** a man die, shall he live again ? There is " hope of a tree if it be cut down, that it *' will sprout again, and that the tender " branch thereof will not cease. Though *' the root thereof wax old in the earth, ** and the stock thereof die in the ground; ** yet, through the scent of water it will ** bud, and bring forth boughs like a plant: " but man dieth, and is cut off; man giv- *' eth up the ghost, and where is he ? As * * the waters fail from the sea ; as the flood ** decayeth and drieth up : so man lieth " down, and riseth not ; till the heavens *' be no more, they shall not awake, nor " be raised out of their sleep." But what a dreadful prospect does annihilation pre- sent to the mind ! To be an outcast from SERMON VII.. 127 existence ; to be blotted out from the book of life ; to mingle with the dust, and be scattered over the earth, as if the breath of life had never animated our frame !— *• Man cannot support the thought. Is the light which shone brighter than all the stars of heaven set in darkness, to rise no more ? Are all the hopes of man come to this, — to be taken into the councils of the Almighty ; to be admitted to behold part of that plan of Providence which governs the world, and when his eyes are just opened, to read the book, — to be shut for ever ? If such were to be our state, we would be of all creatures the most miser- able. The world appears a chaos without form, and void of order. From the throne of nature, God departs, and there appears a cruel and capricious being, who de- lights in death, and makes sport of human misery. From this state of doubts and fears, we are dcUvered by the Gospel of Jesus. The message which he brought, was Hfe and immortality. From the Star of Jacob, light shone even upon the shades of death. 12S SERMON VII. As a proof of immortality, he called back the departed spirit from the world un- known ; as an earnest of the resurrection te a future life, he himself arose from the dead. When we contemplate the tomb of nature, we cry out, " Can these dry " bones live ?" When we contemplate the tomb of Jesus, we say, " Yes, they can " live 1" As he arose, we shall in like manner arise. In the tomb of nature, you see man return to the dust from whence he was taken. In the tomb of Jesus, you see man restored to life again. In the tomb of nature, you see the shades of death fall on the weary traveller, and the darkness of the long night close over his head. In the tomb of Jesus, you see light arise upon the shades of death, and the morning dawn upon the long night of the grave. On the tomb of nature, it is writ- ten, *' Behold thy end, O man ! Dust '* thou art, and vinto dust thou shalt re- " turn. Thou, who now callest thyself ** the son of heaven, shalt become one of *' the clods of the valley." On the tomb of Christ is written, ** Thou diest, O man! ** but to live again. When dust returns SERMON VII. 129 " to dust, the spirit shall return to God ** who gave it. I am the resvirrection and " the hfe; he that believeth in me, though " he were dead, yet shall he live.'' From the tomb of nature, you hear a voice, " For ever silent is the land of forgetful- '' ness ? From the slumbers of the grave, '• shall Vv^e awake no more ? Like the " flowers of the field, shall we be as " though we had never been ?" From the tomb of Jesus, you hear, '' Blessed are the '' dead that die in the Lord, thus saith *' the Spirit, for they rest from their la- *' hours, and pass into glory : — In my Fa- " ther's house, there are many mansions ; *^ if it were not so, I would have told '* you : I go to prepare a place for you, *' and if I go away, I will come again, and " take you unto myself, that where I am, *' there ye may be also." Will not this assurance of a happy im- mortality, and a blessed resurrection, in a great measure remove the terror and the sting of death ? May we not walk without: dismay through the dark valley, when w^e are conducted by a beam from heaven ? Vol. L ' I 130 SERMON VIL May we not endure the tossings of one stormy night, when it carries us to the shore that we long for ? What cause have we to dread the messenger who brings us to our Father's house ? Should not our fears about futurity abate, when we hear God addressing us with respect to death, as he did the Patriarch of old, upon going to Egypt, ** Fear not to go down to the " grave ; I will go down with thee, and " will brmg thee up again." Secondly^ our victory over death consists in our being delivered from the apprehen- sions of wrath, and forebodings of punish- ment, which arise in the mind from the consciousness of sin. That there is a God who governs the world, the patron of righteousness, and the avenger of s^ln, is so manifest from the light of nature, that the belief of it has obtained among all nations. That it shall be well with the righteous, and ill with the wicked ; that God will reward those who diligently seek him, and punish those who transgress his laws, is the principle SERMON VII. 131 upon which all religion is founded. But whether mercy be an attribute in the Di- vine nature to such an extent that God may- be rendered propitious to those who rebel against his authority, and disobey his com- mandments, is an inquiry to which no sa- tisfactory answer can be made. Many of the Divine attributes are conspicuous from the works of creation ; the power, the wis- dom, and the goodness of God, appear in creating the world ; in superintending that world which he has made ; in diffusing life wide over the system of things, and provid- ing the means of happiness to all his crea- tures. But from no appearances in nature does it clearly follow, that the exercise of mercy to offenders is part of the plan by which the universe is governed. For any thing that we know from the light of na- ture, repentance alone may not be sufficient to procure the remission of sins, the tears of contrition mav be unavailable to wash away the stains of a guilty life, and the Di- vine favour may be implored in vain by those who have become obnoxious to the Divine displeasure. If in the calm and se- rene hour of inquiry, man could find no I 2 182 SERMON VIL consolation in such thoughts, how would he be overwhelmed with horror, wdien his mind was disordered with a sense of guilt ? When remembrance brought his former life to view, when reflection pierced him to the heart, darkness would spread itself over his mind. Deity would appear an object of terror, and the spirit, wounded by re- morse, would discern nothing but an of- fended Judge armed with thunders to pu- nish the guilty. If, in the day of health and prosperity, these reflections were so powerful to embitter life, they would be a source of agony and despair when the last hour approached. When life flows according to our wishes, we may endea- vour to conceal our sins, and shut our ears against the voice of conscience. Eut these artiiices will avail little at the hour of death. Then things appear in their true colours. Then conscience tells the truth, and the mask is taken off from the man, when our sins at that hour pass before us in review. Guilty and polluted as we are, covered with confusion, how shall we ap- pear at the judgment-seat of God, and an- swer at the bar of eternal justice ? How SERMON VII. 133 shall dust and ashes stand in the presence of that uncreated Glory, before which prin- cipalities and powers, bow down, tremble, and adore ? How shall guilty and self-con- demned creatures appear before Him, in whose sight the heavens are not clean, and who chargeth his angels with folly ? This is the sting of death. It is guilt that sharp- ens the spear of the king of terrors. But even in this view we have victory over death, through Jesus Christ our Lord. By his death upon the cross, an atonement was made for the sins of men. The wrath of God was averted from the vv^orld. A great plan of reconciliation is now unfolded in the gospel. Under the banner of the cross, pardon is proclaimed to returning peni- tents. They who accept the ofFers of mercy, and who fly for refuge to the hope set be- fore them, are taken into favour ; their sins are forgiven, and their names are writ- ten in the book of life. Over them death has no power. The king of terrors is trans- formed into an angel of peace, to waft them to their native country, where they long to be. 13 134 SERMON VIL This, O Christian ! the death of thy Redeemer, is thy strong consolation ; thy effectual remedy against the fear of death. What evil can come nigh to him for whom Jesus died ? Does the law which thou hast broken, denounce vengeance against thee ? Behold that law fulfilled in the meritorious hfe of thy Redeemer. Does the sentence of wrath pronounced against the posterity of Adam sound in thine ears ? Behold that sentence blotted out, that hajid-writing^ as the Apostle calls it, cancelled, nailed to thy Saviour's cross, and left there as a trophy of his victory. Art thou afraid that the cry of thy offences may rise to heaven, and reach the ears of justice ? There is no place for it there ; in room of it ascends the voice of that blood which speaketh better things than the blood of Abel. Does the enemy of mankind accuse thee at the judgment-seat ? He is put to silence by thy Advocate and Intercessor at the right hand of thy Father. Does death ap- pear to thee in a form of terror, and hold out his sting to alarm thy mind ? His ter- ror is removed, and his sting was pulled out by that hand, which, on mount Calvary, SERMON VII. 135 was fixed to the accursed tree. Art thou afraid that the arrows of Divine wrath which smite the guilty, may be aimed at thy head? Before they can touch thee, they must pierce that body, which, in the symbols of divine institution, was this day held forth crucified among you, and which at the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens, is for ever presented in behalf of the redeemed. Well then may ye join in the tri\imphant song of the Apostle, ** O " death ! where is thy sting ? O grave 1 '* where is thy victory ?" In the t/jird phice, Jesus Christ gives us victory over death, by yielding us conso- lation and relief under the fears that arise in the mind upon the awful transition from this world to the next. Whoever left the precincts of mortality without casting a wishful look on what he left behind, and a -trembling eye on the scene that is before him ? Being formed by our Creator for enjoyments even in this life, we are endowed with a sensibility to the objects around us. We have affections. 13G SERMON VII. and we delight to indulge them : we have hearts, and we want to bestow them. Bad as the world is, we find in it objects of af- fection and attachment. Even in this waste and howling wilderness, there are spots of verdure and of beauty, of power to charm the mind, and m.ake us cry out, " It is good for us to be here." When^ afrer the observation and experience of years, we have found out the objects of the soul, and met v/ith minds- congenial to our own, what pangs must it give to the heart, to think of parting for ever ? We even contract an attachment to inanimate objects. The tree under whose shadow we have often sat ; the fields where we have frequently strayed ; the hill, the scene of contemplation, or the haunt of friendship, become objects of passion to the mind, and upon our leaving them, excite a tempora- ry forrow and regret. If these things can affect us with uneasiness, how great must be the affliction, when stretched on that bed from which we shall ri'>e no more, and looking about for the last time on the sad circle of our weeping friends, — how great must be the affliction, to dissolve at once SERMON VIL 137 all the attachments of life ; to bid an eternal adeiu to the friends whonn we long have loved, and to part for ever with all that is dear below the sun ! But let not the Christian be disconsolate. He parts with the objects of his affection, to meet them again ; to meet them in a bet- ter world, where change never enters, and from whose bles'ful mansions sorrow flies away. At the resurrection of the just ; in the great assembly of the sons of God, when all the family of heaven are gather- ed together, not one person shall be miss- ing that was worthy of thy affection or esteem. And if among imperfect crea- tures, and in a troubled world, the kind, the tender, and the generous affections, have such power to charm the heart, that even the tears which they occasion, delight us, what joy unspeakable and glorious will they produce, when they exist in perfect minds, and are improved by the purity of the heavens. Christianity also gives us consolation in the transition from this world to the next. Every change in life av/akens anxiety ; 138 SERMON VIL whatever is unknown, is the object of fear ; no wonder then that it is awful and alarm- ing to nature, to think of that time when the hovir of our departure is at hand ; when this animal frame shall be dissolved, and the mysterious bond between soul and body shall be broken. Even the visible effects of mortality are not without terror ; to have no more a name am.ong the living ; to pass into the dominions of the dead ; to have the worm for a companion, and a sis- ter, are events at which nature shudders and starts back. But more awful still is the invisible scene, when the curtain be- tween both worlds shall be drawn back, and the soul naked and disembodied appear in the presence of its Creator. Even un- der these thoughts, the comforts of Chri- stianity may delight thy soul Jesus, thy Saviour, has the keys of death ; the abodes of the dead are part of his kingdom. He lay in the grave, and hallowed it for the repose of the just. Before our Lord ascend- ed up on high, he said to his disciples, ** I go to my Father, and to your Father, *' to my God, and to your God ;" and when the time of your departure is at SERMON VII. 139 hand, you go to your Father and his Fa- ther, to your God and his God. Enlightened by these discoveries, trust- ing to the merits of his Redeemer, and animated with the hope which is set be- fore him, the Christian will depart with tranquillity and joy. To him the bed of death will not be a scene of terror, nor the last hour an hour of despair. There is a majesty in the death of the Christian: He partakes of the spirit of that world to which he is advancing, and he meets his latter end with a face that looks to the hea- vens. SERMON VIII. Psalm xcvil, 1. The Lord reigjieth^ let the earth rejoice. npo thinking men, the universe pre- ^ sentii a scene of wonders. They find themselves brought into the world, they know not how. If they look around them, they behold the earth clothed with an infinite variety of herbs and fruits, sub- servient to their use, or administering to their delight. If they look above them, they behold the host of heaven walking in brightness and in beauty ; the sun ruling the day ; the moon and the stars govern- ing the night. If they attend to the course of nature, they behold with won- der the various revolutions of the year ; the gradual return of the seasons, and the constant vicissitude of day and of night, ^ 3 SERMON Vlir. 141 Whilst this they are employed, they be- hold in the heavens the glory of their Crea- tor ; they discover in the firmament the handiwork of Omnipotence, and they hear the voice that nature sends out to the ends of the earth, — that all things are the workmanship of a supreme and intelligent Cause. As from these events they con- clude the Almighty to be the Maker of the world ; from the same events, they conclude that he is the Governor of the world which he hath made, and that Di- vine power is as requisite to preserve the order and harmony of the world now, as it was necessary to establish it at the first. But when experience unfolded to them the powers of natural bodies ; when they saw machines contrived by human skill, exhibiting motions, and producing effects, similar to those which they observed in. nature, by the impulse of matter upon matter ; and when they saw these ma- chines regularly exhibiting such motions, regularly producing such effects, although the head that contrived, and the hand that put them together, were removed from them ; this raised rm opinion, in 142 SERMON VIIL some speculative minds, that the world resembled such machines ; and that, as a clock will shew the hour of the day, in virtvie of its original frame and con- stitution, without any further interposi- tion of the artificer that framed it, so nature, in virtue of its original frame and constitution, may and does produce every effect which we see around us, without any further interposition of its Divine Author. This opinion is frequently mentioned aind confuted in the Sacred Scriptures. Those men are condemned whose belief it was, that, in the course of human affairs, the Lord would not do good, neither would he do evil. Although I seldom choose to carry you through the barren and unplea- sant fields of controversy, yet, as this ques- tion affects so deeply our religious com- fort in this state, and our hopes of happi-' ness in a future world, I shall consider it at large, and shall, in the Jirst place, shew you the absurdity of that opinion which would exclude God from the government of the world — Secondly^ establish and con- SERMON VIIL 143 firm the doctrine of a particular Trovidence, "Thirdly^ shew you the grounds of joy a- rising to the world from such a Provi- dence. In the first place, I am to shew you the absurdity of that opinion v/hich would ex- clude God from the government of the world. It has been thought by some, " That the Creator of the universe formed the constitution of nature in such a manner at the beginning, as to stand in need of no succeeding change ; that he esta- blished certain laws in the material and in, the moral world, which uniformly and invariably take place, producing all the effects which he ever intended they should produce ; as when an artist frames a machine for certain purposes, and for a limited duration, the effects which result from it spring not from the immediate direction and influence of the artist, but from the original frame and composition of the machine." Such is the opinion of those who hold what they call a geiic- 144 SERMON VIIL ral Providence. We, on the other hand, mamtain, that " Almighty God, upon spe- " cial occasions, directs and over-rules the *' course of events, both in the natural and *' moral world, by an immediate influence, ^* to answer the great designs of his uni- ** versal government." With respect to a general Providence, this mechanical system, this engine by which some persons would throw out the superintending Pi-ovidence of Heaven, is a creature of the brain. It is a mere pre- sumption. It is by its ovv^n nature incapa- ble of proof. From whence should the evidence arise? Art thou, who excludest God from his works, intrusted with the secrets of Heaven ? Wert thou present when God laid the foundations of the world ? Wert thou privy to his councils ? Or do you now see, or can you shew, that original cause, or those original causes, established by God at the creation, from which all the various effects in nature may be deduced, and into which they may me- chanically be resolved ? Can you shew the immediate cause of lightning or of rain, SERMON VIII. 145 Cr of any other phenomenon in nature, and from the immediate cause ascend to the second, from the second to the third, and so upward till you come to the last link of the chain, which hangs immediately upon the throne of God ? This can be done in the works of art. An artist will shew you the dependence of all the movements in a machine upon one another ; and when you are as well acquainted with the fabric of the world, as you may be with the structure of a machine, you may then speak of vour chain of mechanical causes and ef- fects. But, alas ! the most improved phi- losophy can do no more but skim the sur- face of things ; and in its progress from the immediate visible to the first invisible cause, at one or two removes, it finds it$ period, beyond which it cannot go. Further, this mechanical system of governing the world without the imme- diate interposition of the Deity, under- mines the foundation of all religious wor- ship. When we pray for our daily bread, what do we ask but the , blessing of God upon the earth, to yield her fruits in due Vol. I. K 146 SERMON VIIL season ? When we ask the blessing of God upon our meals, what do we less than re- cognise his supreme power, and implore him to make the gifts of his Providence the means of our sustenance and refresh- ment ? This disclaims every notion of na- tural causes and effects that shuts out God ; it supposes his covicurrence and co-opera- tion directing all the operations of nature. Again, when we pray for the graces and virtues of the spiritual life, what do we ask but the Divine aid to strengthen the good dispositions he hath already given us, and so to direct and order the course of events, that we may be kept from tempta- tion, or not be overcome when wc are tempted ? But this supposes the superin- tendence of God over us ; supposes his in- terposition in hviman affairs ; stipposes his Providence continually exerted in admini- stering to the wants of his creatures, accord- ing as their circumstances require. If thi^ account be just, then our worship is a rea- sonable service. But if these are vain words, then our worship also is vain. Then every one that goes intjp his closet to pray, goes only to act foolishly ; then all the good and SERMON VIIL 147 the pious, everywhere over the face of the w^hole earth, that are calUng upon the Most High God, are as uselessly, as absurdly employed, as if they were falling down be- fore a dumb idol, and paying their devo- tions to images of wood or stone. Further still, this mechanical system, in a great measure, annihilates the moral perfections of the Divine nature. It places the Almighty in a state of indolence, v/hich is inconsistent with every idea of perfec- tion ; it makes him an idle and unconcern- ed spectator of his own works, and repre- sents him as beholding virtue and vice, the sinner and the saint, with an equal eye. There are many scenes in human life, at which, if we were present, it would be criminal for us not to take a part. Did we see the hands of the violent raised to shed innocent blood, and not rush to pre- vent the horrid deed ; did we know the re- treats of the robber and murderer, and not endeavour to bring them to public justice, we would be reckoned in part guilty of their crimes, as, by a criminal omission, we should endanger the peace of the pub- K 2 148 SERMON VIIL lie, and the interests of society. If we^ being evil, would abhor such a character^ shall we impute it, can we impute it, to Him who is infinite in goodness, and who is possessed of absolute perfection ? To what purpose is God everywhere present, if he is not everywhere employed ? Where- to serves infinite power, if it must be for ever dormant ? Whereto serves infinite wisdom, if it is never to be exercised ? To what purpose are the Divine goodness, and the Divine justice, if we only hear of their names ? Are all the attributes of the Godhead in vain ? How false, how absurd, how blasphemous, is an opinion that would destroy every Divine perfection ! I have thus shewn you the absurdity of that system which would exclude God from the government of the universe, and I am now, in the second place, to establish and confirm the doctrine of a particular Provi- dence. This doctrine is founded both up- on reason and the Scriptures. Reason and t%ie philosophy never at- tempt to separate God from his works. SERMON VIII. 149 We must own him in the sky to hold the planets in their respective orbits ; we must own him in the earth, and in the seas, to keep them within their proper bounds, and we mvist own him through the whole sys- tem of nature, to support and maintain that gravitating force which gives consist- ency and stability to all material things. Reason tells us, that it is not probable that the Creator of the universe would forsake that world which he had made ; that it is not probable that a Being, possessed of in- finite perfection, can be an idle and uncon- cerned spectator of his own works. But our chief evidence for this doctrine rests upon Revelation. Mankind obtain- ed early notices of the Divine superintend-^ ence, by peculiar interpositions. In the history of the Old Testament, we have an account of the lose of Paradise by sin ; of the banishment of Cain for the murder of his brother ; of the translation of Enoch, as the reward of his righteousness ; of the wickedness of the old world, and its de- struction by the deluge, l^Joah and his fa- mily only excepted, who, by the eminence K3 150 SERMON VIIL of his piety, found grace in the sight of God to become the Father of the new world. When this new world revolted from God, and ran into idolatry, we see Abraham called out to be the head of a mighty nation, which grew up and flou- rished, by a series of the most wonderful providences ; governed by laws of God's own appointment ; with promises of pro- tection and blessing, so long as they should be obedient, and threatenings of punish- ment and destruction, if they fell off to serve other gods ; which in the event were pvmctually verified. This was a visible and a standing evidence of a governing Providence. The doctrine was thus esta- blished upon a higher authority than rea- son, and upon better evidence than the light of nature. God revealed himself to men as the Governor of the world, the avenger of the wicked, and the protector of the good. But although in administa*- ing the affairs of the universe, the object of Providence should be to depress the bad and to favour the good ; yet an exact re- tribution of rewards and punishments was Bone of the ends of his administration in SERMON VIII. 151 this scene of things. This would have de- feated the plan of his Providence, and su- perseded the necessity of a day of judg- ment. Nevertheless, he would frequently interpose to punish signal wickedness, or reward illustrious virtue. Thus, in the early ages of the world, he did often mira- culously interpose, to let the nations un- derstand that he took notice of their right- eous or unrighteous deeds ; that he had power to vindicate the honour of his laws ; and to make examples whenever it was re- quisite, for the correction and reformation of men. Miraculous interpositions were not intended to be permanent or perpetual ; yet the Providence of God was not to cease. Accordingly, he took care to in- form us, that what in the first ages he had done visibly, and t)y miracles, he v^rould do in the latter ages by the invisible direction of natural causes. The Scriptures are so full of this notion, that it would be endless to be particular. You may read the 28'^ chapter of Deuteronomy, where you will see all the powers of nature summoned as instruments in the hands of the Almighty, to execute the purposes of his will ;— 152 SERMON VIII. where you behold them commissioned to favour the good with national prosperity, with domestic comforts, with safety from their enemies, with fruitful seasons, with a numerous offspring, and with an abun- dance of all blessings ; — commissioned to punish the wicked with national distress- es, with indigence, with slavery, with de- structions and molestations of every kind, by war, by famine, and by all sorts of dis- eases. From all which, the plain inference is this, that the most common and most familiar events, are under the direction of God, and by him are u.ed as instruments, either for the hurt or for the good of men. How this particular Providence ope- rates, may, in some degree, be conceiv- ed by us. Man, in his limited sphere, can take some direction of natural caiises. You can direct the element of fire either to warm or to consume ; the elements of air and water to cherish and to annoy: doe not that power, then, in a more il- lustrious manner, belong to God ? Is it not as easy for hwiy think you, to give SERMON VIIL 153 Jaws to the tempest, where to spend it§ force ; to direct the meteor flying in the ^ir, where to fall, and whom to consume? Are the elemental and subterraneous fires bound up ? he can let them loose. Are they broken loose ? he can collect them as in the hollow of his hand. And all this he performs, without unhinging the general system, and without any visible tokens to us, that he is at all concerned, though in truth he is the effective agent. In like manner, we may comprehend, in some measure, how God may direct, not only the motions of the inanimate and passive part of the creation, but also the determinations of free agents, to answer the purposes of His Providence. The hearts of men are in the hand of the Lord, as much as the rivers of water. This does not in the least destroy the freedom of hu- man actions. Every one knows that the acts of free agents are determined by cir- cumstances ; and these circumstances are always in the hand of God. The disposi- tions and resolutions of men are apt to vary, according to the different turn or iipw of their spirits^ or their different si- 154 SERMON VIII. tuations in life, as to health or sickness, strength or weakness, joy or sorrow ; and by the direction of these, God may raise up enemies, or create friends, stir up war, or make peace. Take, as an instance, the history of Haman. That wicked man had long meditated the destruction of Morde- cai the Jew, and rather than not satiate his vengeance upon him, would involve the whole Jewish nation in utter destruc- tion. He at last obtained a decree sen- tencing this whole people to the sword ; and the day was fixed. In this crisis of their fate, how was the chosen nation to be delivered ? Was God visibly and mira- culously to interpose in favour of his own people ? This he could have done ; but he chose rather to act according to the or- dinary train of second causes. He who giveth sleep to his beloved, withheld it from Ahasuerus, the monarch of Persia. In order to pass the night, he called for the records of his reign. There he found it written, that Mordecai had detected a conspiracy formed against the life of the king, and that he had never been reward* ed for it. By this single circumstance, a, SERMON VIII. 155 sudden reverse took place. Mordecai was advanced to honour and rewards ; the vil- lany of Haman was detected; the decree fatal to the Jews was revoked ; and the na- tion of the Jews was saved from instant destruction. In like manner^ in the his- tory of Joseph, and other histories of the Old Testament, you see the most familiar events made instruments in the hand of God to effect the purposes of his will. There is then a particular Providence- The arm of the Almighty, reaching from heaven to earth, is continually employed. All things are full of God. In the regions of the air ; in the bowels of the earth ; and in the chambers of the sea, his power is felt. Every event in life is under his direction and controul. Nothing, is for- tuitous or accidental. Let me caution you, however, against abusing this doctrine, by judging of the characters of persons from their outward circumstances. It is to be remembered, that the present life is not a state of recompence, but a state of trial ; consequently, men are not dealt with in outward dispensations according to their 136 SERMON VIII. true character. The goods of Nature and Providence are distributed indiscriminate- ly among mankind. The sun shines, the rain falls, upon the just and the unjust. It is a dangerous error, therefore, to judge of moral character from external condition ia life. This was the error of Job's friends ; this the foundation of the censures they cast against this excellent person, and for which they were reproved. The intention of the book of Job is, to shew the false- ness of that supposition, by representing the incomprehensible Majesty of God, and the unsearchable nature of His works. Many instances in Scripture confirm the truth of this observation. Who, that saw David reduced to straits^ wandering for re-^ fuge in the rocks and dens of the v/ilder- ness, would have believed him to be the prince whom God had chosen ? Who, that beheld Nebuchadnezzar walking in his pa- lace, surrounded with all the pomp and splendour of the east, would have believed him to be the object of Divine displeasvire, and that the decree was gone out, that he was to be driven among the beasts ? Who, that beheld our Lord iu the form of a serv- SERMON Vm. 1J7 ant, would have believed that he was the Master of Nature ? I am, lastly^ to deduce the practical con- sequences from the doctrine, by shewing you the grounds of joy and consolation that it gives to the v/orld. In the first place, the doctrine of a su- perintending Providence yields us joy and consolation with respect to our lot in life. Many persons are accustomed to complain concerning their situation and circumstan- ces in the world. Their desires and their fortune do not correspond ; they think that they are misplaced by Providence^ and look upon the lot of their neighbours as more eligible than their own. It is im- possible, in the present system of things, that all men can be alike. Nature, through all her works, delights in variety. Though every flower is beautiful, and every star is glorious ; yet one flower excelleth an- other in beauty, and one star exceedeth an- other in glory. There are also diversities in human life, and a beautiful subordina- tion prevails amongst mankind. The Fa- 15S SERMON Vm. ther of spirits hath communicated himself to men, in different degrees. But although all men cannot be alike ; yet all men may enjoy a great measure of happiness. Every station in life possesses its comforts and ad- vantages. In those comparisons you make of your life with that of others, when you would wish to exchange places with some of your more fortunate neighbours, do you not always find something in which you have the superiority ? Is there not some talent of the mind, some quality of the heart, something where you think your strength lies, some one source of enjoy- ment which you would wish still to retain ? Is not this the testimony of nature, that you are happier in that path of life, than you would be in another ? Wherever you are placed by Providence, the station ap- pointed is the post of honour. A general, in the day of battle, marshals his army ac- cording as he sees proper, and distributes the posts of danger and importance, accord- ing to the courage and the conduct of his soldiers. Your Commander knows your abilities better than you do yourselves : he prescribed to you the duty you have to SERMON Vm. 159 execute; and he marked out the path in which you are to seek for honour and im- mortahty. It is from your discharge of these offices assigned to you, that the hap- piness of your fife, and the perfection of your character, are to arise. It is not from the sphere they hold in life, but from the lustre they cast around them in that sphere, that men rank in the Divine estimation, and figure in the annals of eternity. If, with five talents, you gain five more, or if, even with one talent, you gain another, you are as praiseworthy as he who, with ten talents, gaineth other ten talents. Further, as in a kingdom, every high- way leads to the capital ; as in a circle, every line terminates in the centre ; 30, in the wide circle of nature, every line terminates in heaven ; and every path in life conducts alike to the great city of God. The present state is intimately con- nected with the future ; the life which we now lead, is an education for the life which is to come. If your mind were enlarged to comprehend all the connec- 160 SERMON VIIL tions and dependencies of things ; if your eyes were opened to take in the whole of your immortal existence, you wotild then see and acknowledge, that Providence had assigned to you the very station you Would have wished to fill ; the very part you would have chosen to act. Trusting, there- fore, in that God who presides over the universe ; assured of that wisdom and goodness which direct the whole train of the Divine administrations, each of us may express our joy in the words of the Psalmist : " The lines have fallen to me ^' in pleasant places ; I have a goodly he- " ritage : The Lord is the portion of " mine inheritance ; the Lord will com- " mand the blessing, even life for ever- " more." In the second place, this doctrine will yield us consolation during the afflictions which we meet with in life. If we be- lieved that the imiverse was a state of anarchy, confusion, and uproar, that the Governor of the world was a cruel and malignant being, who made sport of hu- man misery, and took pleasure in punish- SERMON VIII. 161 ing his unhappy creatures ; such a thought would overwhelm the mind ; it would turn the gloom of adversity into the shadow of death, and mingle poison in the cup of bitterness which we are doomed to drink. But the Scriptures inform us, that the dark dispensations of Providence are part of that plan which has the good of the world for its object ; take their rise from the good- ness of our Father in heaven ; are intend- ed for the reformation and final blessed- ness of his children. The same word of life which says, " Blessed is the man whom " thou choosest and makest approach un- *' to thee," says also, " Blessed is the man " whom thou chastenest." So far from being marks of the Divine wrath, the af- flictions of life are tokens of the Divine love. While heedless and unthinking we eo astrav, God interests himself in our favour, and sends these his messengers to bring us to himself. It is but a narrow and imperfect view we take of afflictions, when we consider them only as trials. They are not so much intended for the trial as for the cultivation of virtue. 1 hey are sent by ProvidencCj to mortify your Vol. I. L 162 SERMON VIIL unruly passions ; to wean you from the world ; to prepare you for heaven : They are sent for the improvement of your na- ture ; for the increase of your graces, and for the superabounding of your joy to all eternity. When under the afflicting hand of Heaven, therefore, you are standing a candidate for immortality ; you are singled out by Providence to exert the part of a Christian, and you are called forth to ex- hibit to the world a pattern of the suffer- ing virtues. He is but a novice in the school of Christ, who has not learned to suffer. The best affections of the heart, the noblest graces of the soul, the highest virtues of life, the offering that is most ac- ceptable to Heaven, arise from the proper improvement of adversity. The blessed above, whom the Prophet saw arrayed in white before the throne, came out of great tribulation ; the blessed above, whom he heard singing the song of Moses and the Lamb, learned the first notes of it on the bed of sorrow. Such is the intention of afflictions which Providence sends, and even under these SERMON Vlli. 163 afflictions God is with his people. Yoii are ever under the hand of a merciful Creator, who doth not afflict willingly, nor grieve the children of men : He knoweth your frame ; he rertiembereth that you are but dust ; he will afflict you no further than you are able to bear ; and as your days are, he hath promised that your strength shall be. Nay, in all your afflictions he is present with you, and the hand that bruised you binds up the wound. Let not then your hearts be troubled. Bear up tinder the pressure of woe. Rejoice because the Lord reigneth, and exult in the lan- guage of the Prophet : ** Although the fig- " tree should not blossom, nor fruit be ** found in the vine ; thovigh the labour of " the olive should fail, and the field should " yield no meat ; though the flocks should " be cut off from the fold, and there shall " be no herd in the stall, yet will I rejoice « in the Lord, I will joy in the God of my ** salvation." Thirdly, with respect to appearances of moral evil and disorder, it is afllicting to the mind to behold disorder in the universe L 2 i64 SERMON VIIL of God : bad men often exalted, while the good man's lot is bitterness and pain : vir- tue depressed, and vice triumphant. He who caused light to arise out of darkness, and order and beauty to spring from chaos and confusion, can correct these irregula- rities. He not only restrains, and says, " Hitherto, and no further :" He also over- rules and makes the wrath of men to praise him Hear how he gives commission, and sends Sennacherib against Israel, as a ge- neral sends a weapon of war. *' O Assy- '^ rian, the rod of mine anger, I will send *' him against an hypocritical nation, and " against the people of my wrath, to tread " them dowm like the mire of the streets. " Howbeit he meaneth not so, neither doth ** his heart think so;" that is, neither doth his heart think that he is a mere instru- ment in the hand of God. David was raised to the throne of Israel by those steps which his foes devised against him. The enemy of mankind, seducing our first pa- renis, was the means of their being elevat- ed to a greater degree of happiness and glory. SERMON VIII. 16-5 Lastly, with respect to our departure from this world, and entering upon a new state of being. We know that the time is appointed, when dust shall return unto dust, and the spirit unto God who gave it. But it is awful, it is alarming, to nature, to call up the hour when the union be- tween soul and body shall be dissolved ; when our connection with all that we held dear in life shall be broken off; when we shall enter upon a new state of existence, and become inhabitants of the world un- known. But even then the Providence of God will give us comfort. The Lord reigneth king for ever and ever. The do- minions of the dead are part of his king- dom ; time and eternity, the world that now is, and the world that is to come, confess him for their Lord. When thou goest through the dark valley, he will go with thee : In the hour of dissolving na- ture, he will support thy spirit. Thou canst not go but where God is. Aroiuid thee is infinite love, and underneath thee are the everlasting arms. Ls SERMON IX. Proverbs iv, 18. The path of the just is as the shining light, that shineth more and more unto the perfect day. H UMAN life has been often compared to a journey, for this as well as for other reasons, that we are always making progress in our way. In whatever path we set out, there is no standing still. Evil men wax worse and worse : the corruptions of their nature gather strength : the vices which they have contracted grow into ha- bit ; the evil principle is for ever on the increase, till having atttained the ascend- ant over the whole man, it subjects him entirely to its own power, the willing and pbedient servant of sin. Good men, on 16S SERMON IX. the other hand, make advances in the paths of righteousness. The grace of God, which is given unto them, Ues not dor- mant The better mind with which they are endowed, incites them to virtue : the new nature which they have put on, pants after perfection. They give all diligence to add to their faith virtue, and to virtue temperance, and to temperance brotherly kindness, a.nd to brotherly kindness cha- rity, until having abounded in every good work, they perfect holiness in the fear of the Lord. Such a life is here called the path of the just. By the just in Scripture, are not meant those who merely abstain ft'om doing vmjust and injurious things to their neighbours. The just man is he who possesses that sincerity of heart, and that integrity of the whole life which God re- quires of man. The life of such a man is here compar- ed to the light of the morning. Nothing in nature is more lovely than the light. When the Spirit began to move upon the face of the deep, light was the first effect of his creating power ; and when the sis; SERMON IX. 169 clays' work was finished, light collected and centred in the sun, continued to be the grandest and most beautiful work of na- ture ; so grand and beautiful, that among many of the heathen nations it was wor- shipped as the visible divinity of the world. What light is to the face of external na- ture, the beauty of holiness is to the soul. It is the brightest ornament of an immor- tal spirit ; it throws a glory over all the faculties of man ; and forms that robe of beauty with which they shine, who walk in zvhite before the throne of God, But it is chiefly on account of its pro- gressive nature, that the path of the just is here compared to the shining light. In order to illustrate this, I shall, in the first place, shew you how we shall know if we have made progress in the paths of righte- ousness. Secondly^ give you. some direc- tions how to make further progress. Third- ly^ exhort you to a life of progressive virtue. I am first then to shew how we shall know if we have made progress in the paths of righteousness. itO SERMON IX. In the first place, let me ask you, are you sensible of your faults and imperfec- tions ? The first indication of wisdom is to confess our ignorance, and the first step to virtue is to be sensible of our own imper- fections. The novice in science is puffed up with his early discoveries ; when the first ray of wisdom is let in upon his mind, he thinks that by it he can see and know all things : deeper views and maturer re- flection convince him how little he knows. In like manner, he knows little of reli- gion, and has been but a short time in the school of Christ, who is blind to his own imperfections. Our fall from innocence was by pride, and we must rise by humi- Jity. — " He that humbleth himself shall be ** exalted," is the doctrine which our Lord delivered upon all occasions. Till we feel our own weakness, we can never be strong in the Lord ; we never can rise in the Di- vine sight, till we sink in our own estima- tion. We often meet with persons in life, who talk very strangely upon this subject. They tell us that they are as good as ever they expect to be : that in looking back upon their past life, they sec nothing done SERMON IX. 171 which they would wish undone ; and that if they were to begin Hfe anew, they would act precisely as they have acted. Concern^ ing such persons, we may safely pronounce that they have made but little progress in the path of the just. They are strangers to their own hearts, and have not proper ideas of the Divine law. They measure the law of God by the laws of men, and think that if their external condvict is blameless, they have acted their part well : not con- sidering that the law of God extends to the heart, and punishes for the omission of duty as well as for the commission of sin. Such errors the Pharisees taught of old ; and such notions of duty Paul had imbibed before his conversion to Christianity. ** Af- ^' ter the straitest sect of our religion," says he, " I lived a Pharisee ; touching the " law, blameless. — I was alive without the '^ law once." That is, when I did not know the law in its true sense, I thought myself alive and a saint. The Pharisaical doctrines in which he had been educated, taught him that God required no more than a conformity of the external behavi- our to the letter of the law. But when he 172 SERMON IX. discovered that the Divine law extended to the heart ; when thus in its power, the commandment came : " sia revived and I *' died ;" then I saw myself to be a sinner, and died to t*^ e self-conceit which I for- merly entertained. v Secondly^ Let me ask you what is the strength of your attachment to the cause of righteousness ? As you are sensible of your faults, and have seen the deformity of sin, are you enamoured with the beau- ty of holiness ? Do you desire nothing more earnestly than to put on the graces of the Gospel, and be conformed to the image of God ? Men v/ill never imitate what they do not love ; if then you are not lovers of goodness and virtue, you never will be good and virtuous. So long as they keep to generals, men may easily deceive them- selves. Let us then come to particulars, and let me ask you with what regard and estimation you view those patterns of piety which you see exhibited in life. Are the good and the righteous, to you the excel- lent ones of the earth ? The wise do not proportion their respect to men according SERMON IX. 173 to the rank they hold, or the name they bear in the world. It !-> the character of the just man, as drawn ?n Scripture, that he scorneth the vile, however exalted, and honour eth them that fear the Lord, how- ever depressed. Do you then scorn the vile man, with all his attributes of rank and wealth and power ? Do you despise the rich, the noble the right honourable vil- lain, and choose for your companion the righteous man, although he has not where to lay his head ? Could you sit down with virtue in her cell, contented with her homely fare, with her poor abode, and look down with a generous contempt up- on the splendid roof, where luxury and guilt lead on the festive hours ? When you behold the wicked great in power,, and flourishing like a green bay-tree, does your heart revolt from giving him that homage which the favours of Mammon never fail to extort from the venal multitude, and can you say, in the sincerity of your heart, " I would not exchange the peace of my ' *' own mind for the wealth of the world ? *' Whatever thou art plea-ed to give, Father ** Almighty, may 1 possess it with honour: 174 SERMON IX. *^ The world approaches to thine altar, and •* bends before thy throne for temporal " blessings; the prayer of my heart is, Lord •' lift up on me the light of thy countenanced I'hirdly, Let me ask you, are your reso- lutions as firm, and your application as vi- gorous now as when you first set out in the spiritual life ? There are times in which all men are serious ; in which the most obdurate minds feel impressions of religion,- and in which persons of the most abandoned character form resolutions of amendment. With all the zeal of new converts, they set about a thorough reformation. They wonder how they have been so long blind to their true interest ; they mourn over the time that they have lost in vain, or in sinful pursuits, and now seem fully de- termined to follow religion as the one thing needful. With many, this course continues not long ; the first new object engages their attention, and turns them aside from the path of the just. But true religion, my friends, does not consist in such fits and starts of devotion ; in ran- dom resolutions made in the fervour of SERMON IX. it5 zeal; in the wavering, desultory, and in- consistent conduct which marks the cha- racter of multitudes in the world. He a- lone is a good man who perseveres in good- ness. When the vernal year begins, and the shower of summer descends, all nature bursts into vegetable life ; the noxious weeds rival the trees among which they grow ; but these sudden growths as sudden- ly disappear ; while favoured by the in- fluences of heaven, the trees arise to their full stature, and bring forth their fruit in season. Are you then as much in earnest now, as when your first love to God be- gan to bring forth the fruits of righteous- ness ? Without this undiminished ardour ^ without these unremitting efforts, you ne- ver will run the race set before you, so as to finish your course with joy. At the same time, I must take notice, that as you advance in years, all the passions will gra- dually cool. When, therefore, the fervour of youth has subsided, and mature age hath given a sober cast to the temper, you v^ili not feel that degree of ardour in your de- votions which you experienced in your early years. Many serious persons have V6 SERMON IX. been alarmed at this appearance, not con- sidering that it was the effect of their con- stitution, and not a mark of apostacy from God. But your devotion will continue as sincere, though not so inflamed, as before, and religion will be as effectual as ever in the regulation of your life ; like a mighty river, before it terminates its course in the ocean, it rolls with greater calmness, but at the same time with a greater strength, than when it arose from its source. Fourth!)', Another mark of increasing grace, is when you obey the Divine com- mandments from affection and love. They who, from the fear of hell, put on a form o-f religion for a time, find it to be a hard and a painful service. They are out of their place, when they strike into the path of the just ; they consider religion as a heavy burden, which they would not bear but from necessity, and look upon the du- ties of the Christian life, as so many tasks which they have to perform. Whoever entertains such notions of religion, will not rise to high attainments in righteous- ness. The passions and affections are the SERMON IX. 177 powerful springs of action in the soul ; and unless these are put in motion, the ma- chine will move heavily along. He alone will make progress in the path of the just, who is drawn by the cords of love. Plea- sant are the labours of love ; and sweet is the precept when the duty pleases. The yoke is easy, and the burden light, when the heart goes along. The Christian is not a slave who obeys from compulsion, or a servant who works for hire : he is a son who acts from filial affection, and is hap- piest when he obeys. The love of Christ alone constraineth him. The beauty of holiness allureth him: though rewards and punishments were set aside, he would follow religion and virtue for their own sake, and do his duty, because therein he found his happiness. Do you then, my friends, feel this affection, this passion for righteousness ? Can you say with the Psalm- ist, *' How do I love thy laws, O Lord ? *' They are my meclitarion all the day. '^ More to be desired they are than gold, " than much fine gold ; sweeter than honey '^ from the honeycomb." Vol. L M 17S SERMON IX. I now come to the second thing proposed^ to give you some directions how to make further progress in the path of the just. In the^frj-/ place^ then, in order to this, iliake a serious business of a holy Ufe. There are many persons in the world who give a sanction to piety by their example, but who feel very little of its power. They think religion an exceedingly decent thing ; they see it patronised by all wise men, and they know it to be necessary for the pur- poses of society. For these reasons they follow the faith, and conform to the usages of their fathers ; they pay a proper re- spect to the institutions of the Church; and they attend upon the ordinances of Divine worship with all the marks of ex- ternal reverence. So far their conduct is not only decent, but laudable. But if they go no further than this ; if they con- fine their sanctity to these walls ; if they think that they have done their duty, when they have compUed with the exter- nal ceremonies of the Church, and have adopted this as the easiest and most com- pendious method of being religious ; the SERMON IX. 1T9 religion of such persons is rather a kind of good manners than real devotion. The true Christian will not be deficient in his attention to the externals of religion ; but he will not rest there ; he will attend up- on the ordinances of public worship, not because it is the custom of the country, but because it his duty to God ; and he will observe the institutions of Christiani- ty ; not from complaisance to established usages, but from a sincere desire of mak- ing progress in righteousness. We must make piety more than a matter of form ; we must make a study of a holy life, m order to advance from strength to strength, in the ways of the Lord : it is with reli- gion, my friends, as with the other pur- suits of life. In those arts where success depends upon genius and industry, unless a man have an enthusiasm for his own pro- fession, unless he follow it from choice, and prefer it to all others, he will never rise to eminence and fame. In like man- ner, unless a man have an attachment of the heart to the cause of virtue ; unless he be fervent in spirit to serve the Lord ; un- less he prefer a good conscience to every M 2 180 SERMON IX. thing upon earth, he will never obtain that crown of glory which is reserved for the righteous. In his journey through life, the pilgrim may turn aside to behold a beautiful scene, or enjoy a passing de- light; but he will never forget that his chief object is his journey to the promised land. In order to attain eminence in the arts jvist mentioned, the candidate devotes his best and happiest years ; lives laborioUvS days and restless nights ; makes a sacrifice of ease, and health, and social joy ; and at last consoles himself by the triumphant prospect of lying down upon the bed of fame, and living to future ages. If, then, studies of inferior importance become such a serious concern ; if the desire of an ima- ginary immortality has such power over the mind ; will this noblest of studies, the science of being good, have no attractions for the soul ? Will this passion for a real immortality have no power over the heart ? Under the influence of this principle, will not every one who has the faith of a Chris- tian, or the feelings of a man, join with SERMON IX. 181 the Apostle, " Yea doubtless, I count all " things but loss, for the excellency of the ** knowledge of Christ Jesus my Lord, — *' that I may know him, and the power of " his resurrection, and the fellowship of '* his sufl^erings, being made conformable ** to his death, if by any means I may at- ** tain to the resurrection of the dead/* Under the influence of these principles, will not every person who desires to make advances in the path of the just, adopt also the resolution of Job, " While my breath is in me, and the Spirit of God is in my nostrils, my lips shall not speak wicked- ness, nor my tongue utter deceit; till I " die I will not remove mine integrity from me : my righteotisness I hold fast,, and will not let it go ; my heart shall not reproach me so long as I live." u 4C <( (( In the second place, in order to make progress in the path of the just, you must never rest satisfied with any degrees of ho- liness or virtue which you attain. The law of the spiritual life is to aim at perfec- tion : the intention of Christianity is that we may stand perfect and complete in all M3 182 SERMON IX. the will of God. ** As he who hath called ** you is holy, be ye holy in all manner of " conversation." Absolutely perfect, in- deed, we can never become in this life ; but we must be always aspiring and endea- vouring after perfection. There is no end of your journey till you come to heaven ; there is no place by the way where you are to expect a termination from labour, or a period of repose. It is not uncom- mon to hear persons express themselves in terms of great indifference about the higher attainments in sanctity and virtue. They seem to be much afraid of being better than their neighbours ; they have no am- bition they say to be saints ; they do not desire to rank among the very best ; and they would be content with the lowest place in heaven. Happy, beyond all con- troversy, shall he be, who shall obtain a place, though the lowest, in the heavenly mansions ; but for men to mark out to themselves boundaries in the path of vir- tue, beyond which they are resolved not to go ; for men, with impious presumption, to cut out to themselves just such a portion of duty as they think will entitle them to SERMON IX. 18S an inestimable reward ; this is undervalu- ing the pearl of great price ; it is sacrifi- cing the riches of the Divine goodness to their own indolence ; it is doing despite to that Spirit of grace which might have been a powerful principle of advancing holiness in the heart. Had he to whom in the pa- rable ten talents were given, gained no more than he to whom five were given, can you think that he would have obtain- ed the title, and received the reward of a good and faithful servant ? No, but of a slothful and unprofitable one, who had not improved aright the deposite of his Master. Whatsaith the Apostle upon this subject ? ** Brethren, I count not myself to ** have apprehended ;" to have already at^ tained perfection ; " but this one thing I ** do ; forgetting the things which are be- " hind, and reaching forth unto those ^* things which are before, I press toward " the mark, for the prize of the high call- ** ing of God in Christ Jesus." *' Forgetting the things that are behind," saith the Apostle. What things had this Apostle to forget ? He had to forget his 184 SERMON IX. labours in the course of his Apostolical functions, his unweared zeal, his unremit- ting industry, in discharging the trust committed to him ; his perilous journeys and voyages over the greatest part of the known world, to propagate the religion of Jesus ; the many noted persons he convert- ed by his ministry ; the many flourishing- churches he erected in the course of his tra- vels ; the many famous nations he brought over to the Christian faith ; — he had to forget what of all things the best men pride themselves most in, the persecutions which he suffered for the sake of the Lord ; the imprisonments which he endured, the wounds which he received, and the stripes which he bore, as a witness of truth, and a preacher of righteousness ; — he had to forget that he was not behind the very chiefest Apostles ; the many miracles w^hich he wTought ; the frequent revelations that were made to him ; — he had to forget that, in the vision of God, he had ascended un- to the third heaven, and was admitted to scenes, the beauties and the joys of which, eye hath not seen, ear hath not heard, and the heart of man cannot conceive. If, not- SERMON rs. ist. withstanding such a high degree of grace and favour ; if, after a life of such extra- ordinary piety ; this Apostle forgot the things which were behind, and reaching forth to the things which were before, press- ed toward the mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus ; where is the man who can pretend to say, ** I *' am already as perfect as I can ever ex- ** pect to be ?" Where is the man who is entitled to set a boundary to himself in the path of righteousness, saying, *' Hitherto " shall I go, but no further," In the tbird place, in order to make progress in the path of the just, be alway employed in the improvement of your souls. There is no standing still in the path to heaven. Your evil habits, those cords that hold you in captivity to sin, you may not perhaps be able to cast away at once ; but through the Divine grace, you will insensibly weaken, and at last break them asunder. Your inclinations that may have taken a w^rong bent, you may counteract, and at lastVecover to. their original rectitude. Where nature favours 1S6 SERMON IX. a particular exertion, or habit has formed you to a particular virtue, the one you may cherish, the other you may cultivate ; tipon both the fruits of righteousness will grow. Afterwards, be still attending to the culture of the soul, and meditating improvements, by calling forth graces that have not yet made their appearance, and bringing forward to perfection those that have. Thus will your minds resemble those trees, in which, at one and the same time, we behold some fruits arrived at full ma- turity ; some half advanced ; and others just formed in the opening blossom. By cultivating these graces in the soul, you will not only have an earnest, but also an image of heaven. The trees which thus grow vip by the rivers of water ; which bring forth their fruit in their season, and whose leaves continue ever green, shall be transplanted to happier climes to adorn the paradise of God. In the fourth and last place, in order to make your endeavours effectual, you must abound in prayer to God for the assistance of his Holy Spirit. " No man becomes SERMON IX. 187 *^ good without the Divine influence. No ** man can rise above the infirmities of na- '* ture unless aided by God. He inspires " great and noble purposes. In every good " man God resides. The strength which " renders a man superior to all those things " which the people either hope or dread, " descends from him. So lofty a structure '* cannot stand unsupported by the Divini- *' ty." I'hese, my friends, are the words of a heathen, and express a doctrine equal- ly agreeable to reason and to revelation. In consequence of our corrupted nature, we are unable of ourselves to produce the virtues and graces of the Divine life. But we are not left without a remedy. In the gospel of Jesus Christ, aids are promised from above, to repair the ruins of our na- ture, and to restore the powers of the soul ; God hath not forsaken the earth : as at the first of days, the Divine Spirit is still mov- ing over the world to produce life. The Lord is ever nigh to them who call upon him in the sincerity of their heart. While we strive against sin, we may safely expect that the Divinity will strive with us, and impart that strength and power which will 188 SERMON IX. at last make us more than conquerors. As he who continues in wicked devices shall be sure to find Satan standing at his right hand, so he who begins a good life, shall find God befriending him with secret aid. He will assist the spirit that is strug- gling to break loose from the bonds of its captivity ; he will aid the flight of the soul that is taking wing to the celestial man- sions ; he will support our feeble frame under the trials and conflicts to which we are appointed, and lead us on from grace to grace, till we appear in Zion above. ** They that wait upon the Lord shall re- ** new their strength ; they shall mount ** up as on eagles' wings ; they shall run *' and not be weary ; they shall walk, and ** not be faint." I come now to the last thing proposed, to exhort you to a life of progressive vir- tue. In the 7?r J-/ place, then, it is your duty to make progress in the ways of righteous- ness. In your sanctification, you are en- abled more and more to die unto sin, and SERMON IX. 189 live unto righteousness. It is not enough that you continue stedfast and immove- able ; you must also abound in the work of the Lord, if you expect your labours to be attended with success. It is not suf- ficient that you continue in well-doing; you must also grow in grace, and increase with all the increase of God. This pro- gressive nature of righteousness is implied in all the figures and images by which a good life is represented in Sacred Scrip-^ ture. It is compared to the least of all seeds, which waxes to a great tree, and spreads out its branches, and fills the earth. It is compared to the morning light, at first faintly dawning over the mountains, by degrees enlightening the face of the earth, ascending higher and higher in the heavens, and shining more and more unto the perfect day. Wc are said to be here at the school of Christ ; and in order to attain the character of good disciples, we must not only retain what we have acquired, but also add to the acquisitions we have madie. The Christian life is represented as a warfare, and in this warfare we shall ne- ver gain the victory, unless we not only 190 SERMON IX. maintain the ground we have got, but al- so gain upon the foe. It is represented as a race set before us, and in running it we must continually press forward, or we shall never gain the prize. Every degree of grace which you receive, and every pitch of virtue to which you attain, is a talent for which you are accountable : a talent, which if you only retain, but not improve, you will receive the doom of a slothful and wicked servant, and be cast into outer darkness. The Christian life is a life of continued exertion. At every stage in our pilgrimage on earth, new scenes will open ; new situations will present themselves ; and new paths to glory will be struck out. The sphere of action varies continually. We have, one while, to support adversity ; another while, to adorn prosperity 5 some- times to approve ourselves to God in soli- tude ; at other times, to cause our light shine before men in society. Different si- tuations in the world, and different periods of life, require the exercise of different virtues. What is accepted from the young soldier will not be excused in the veteran ; what is an ** ornament of grace'' to the SERMON IX, i9i youthful brow, will not be a '^ crown of " glory" to the hoary head. Secondly^ I et me exhort you to this life of progressive virtue, from the pleasing consideration that you will be successful in the attempt. In the pursuit of human honours and rewards, the successful candi- dates are few. In a race many run, but one only gains the prize. But here all who run may obtain. In the career of human glory, time and chance happen un- to all, and many are disappointed. ** The *' race is not always to the swift, nor the " battle to the strong ; nor riches to men *' of understanding ; nor favour to men *' of skill." There is a concurrence of cir- cumstances required to raise a man to re- putation ; and when these circumstances concur, if the moment of opportunity be not embraced, the field of glory may be lost for ever. In human life there is a fa- vourable hour which never returns, and a call to fame which is repeated no more : even in its best estate, men ought to lay their account with disappointment and vexation. What hast thou set thy heart upon from thy youth ; what has been the 1D2 SERMON IX. aim of all thy labours ; what has been the object of thy whole life, — accident, ar-- tifice, ignorance, villany, caprice, may eive to another whom thou knowcst not. When thy ambition is all on fire : in the utmost ardour of expectation, in the very moment when thou stretchest out thy hand to grasp the prize, fortune may snatch it from thy reach for ever. Nay, thou may- est have the mortification to see others rise upon thy ruins, to see thyself made a step to the ambition of thy rival, and thy endeavours rendered the means of advanc- ing him to the top of the wheel, while thou continuest low. In the pursuits of ambition or avarice, you may be disappointed ; but if by a pro- gressive state of righteousness, you seek for glory, and honour, and immortality, I, in the name of God, assure you of success. Never was the gate of mercy shut against the true penitent ; never was the prayer of the faithful rejected in the temple of Hea- ven ; never did the incense of a good life ascend without acceptance on high. Li- beral and unrestricted is the Divine be- SERMON IX. I 193 nignity : free to all the fountain flows. There is no angel with a flaming sword to keep you from the tree of life. At this moment of time there is a voice from Hea- ven calling to you, " Come up hither.'' And if you are obedient to the call, God assists you with the aids of his Spirit ; he lifts up the hands that hang down ; he strengthens the feeble knees, and perfects his strength in your weakness. You are not left alone to climb the arduous ascent. God is with you, who never sufi^ers the spirit which rests on him to fail ; nor the man who seeks his favour, to seek it in vain. Your success in the path of the just will not only be pleasing to yourselves, but also to all around you. In the struggles of human ambition, the triumph of one arises upon the sorrows of another ; many are disappointed when one obtains the prize. But in the path of the just, there is emulation without envy, triumph with- out disappointment. The success of one increases the happiness of all. The in- fluence of such an event is not confined to the earth : it is communicated to all good beings ; it adds to the harmony of Vol. I. N 194 SERMON IX. the Heavens ; and is the occasion of new hosannahs among the innumerable com- pany of angels and spirits of just men made perfect, who rejoice over the sinner that re- penteth, thirdly. Let me exhort you to make ad- vances in the path of righteousness, from the beauty and the pleasantness of such a progress. Whatever diiEculties may have attended your first entrance upon the path of the just, they will vanish by degrees ; the steepness of the mountain will lessen as you ascend ; the path in which you have been accustomed to walk, will grow more and more beautiful ; and the celestial mansions to which you tend, will brighten with new splendour, the nearer that you approach them. In other affairs, continued exertion may occasion lassitude and fa- tigue. Labour may be carried to such an excess as to debilitate the body. The pur- suits of knowledge may be carried so far as to inipair the mind ; but neither the or-» gans of the body, nor the faculties of the soul, can be endangered by the practice of religion. On the contrary, this practice SERMON IX. 195 strengthens the powers of action. Add- ing virtue to virtue, is adding strength to strength : and the greater acquisitions vv^e make, we are enabled to make still greater. Hov7 pleasant will it be to mark the soul thus mov.ng forward in the brightness of its course ! In the spring, who does not love to mark the progress of nature ; the flower unfolding into beauty, the fruit coming forward to maturity, the fields ad- vancing to the pride of harvest, and the months revolving into the perfect year ? Who does not love in the human species, to observe the progress to maturity ; the infant by degrees growing up to man ; the young idea beginning to shoot, and the embryo character beginning to unfold ? But if these things affect us with delight ; if the prospect of external nature in its pro- gress ; if the flower, unfolding vmto beauty; if the fruit coming forward to maturity ; if the infant by degrees growing up to man, and the embryo character beginning to unfold, affect us with pleasurable sensa- tions, how much greater delight will it af- ford to observe the progress of this new crea- tion, the growth of the soul in the graces 196 SERMON IX. of the divine life, good resolutions ripen- ing into good actions, good actions leading to confirmed habits of virtue, and the new nature advancing from the first lineaments of virtue to the full beauty of holiness ! These are pleasures that time will not take away. While' the animal spirits fail, and the joys which depend upon the liveliness of the passions decline with years, the so- lid comforts of a holy life, the delights of virtvie and a good conscience, will be a new source of happiness in old age, and have a charm for the end of life. As the stream flows pleasantest when it approach- es the ocean ; as the flowers send up their sweetest odours at the close of the day ; as the sun appears with greatest beauty in his going down ; so at the end of his career, the virtues and graces of a good man's life, come before him with the most bless- ed remembrance, and impart a joy which he never felt before. Over all the moments of life, religion scatters her favours, but reserves her best, her choicest, her divinest blessings for the last hour. In the last place, Let me exhort you to SERMON IX. 197 this progressive state of virtue, from the pleasant consideration that it has no pe- riod. There are Hmits and boundaries set to all human affairs. There is an ultimate point in the progress, beyond which they never go, and from which they return in a contrary direction. The flower blos- soms but to fade, and all terrestrial glory shines to disappear. Human life has its decline as well as its maturity ; from a certain period the external senses begin to decay, and the faculties of the mind to be impaired, till dust returns unto dust. Na- tions have their day. States and kingdoms are mortal like their founders. When they have arrived at the zenith of their glory, from that moment they begin to decline ; the bright day is succeeded by a long night of darkness, ignorance, and barbari- ty. But in the progress of the mind to in- tellectual and moral perfection, there is no period stt. Beyond these heavens the per- fection and happiness of the just is carry- ing on ; is carrying on, but shall never come to a close. God shall behold his crea- tion for ever beautifying in his eyes ; for ever dravting nearer to himself, yet still in- K)8 SERMON IX. finitely distant from the fountain 6f all goodness. There is not in rehgion a more joyful and triumphant consideration than this perpetual progress which the soul makes to the perfection of its nature, without ever arriving at its ultimate pe- riod. Here truth has the advantage of fa- ble. No fiction, however bold, presents to us a conception so elevating and asto- nishing, as this interminable line of hea- venly excellence. To look upon the glo- rified spirit as going on from strength to strength ; adding virtue to virtue, and knowledge to knowledge ; making approach- es to goodness which is infinite ; for ever adorning the Heavens with new beauties^ and brightening in the splendours of mo- ral glory through all the ages of eternity, — has something in it so transcendent and ineffable, as to satisfy the most unbound- ed ambition of an immortal spirit. Chri- stian ! does not thy heart glow at the thought, that there is a time marked out in the annals of Heaven, when thou shalt be what the angels now are ; when thou shalt shine with that glory in which prin- cipalities and powers now appear ; and SERMON IX. 199 when, in the full communion of the Most High, thou shalt see him as he is ? The oak, whose top ascends unto the heavens, and which covers the mountains with its shade, was once an acorn, con- temptible to the sight ; the philosopher, whose views extend from one end of na^ ture to the other, was once a speechless infant hanging at the breast ; the glorified spirits who now stand, nearest to the throne of God, were once like you. To you as to them the Heavens are open ; the way is marked out ; the reward is prepar- ed. On w^hat you do, on what you now do, all depends. SERMON X, Matthew v, 5. Blessed are the meek^ for they shall inherit the earth. rip HEY mistake the nature of the Chris- •*• tian religion very much, who consi- der it as separate and detached from the commerce of the world. Instead of form- ing a distinct profession, it is intimately connected with life ; it respects men as acting in society, and contains regulations for their condvict and behaviour in such a state. It takes in the whole of human life, and is intended to influence us when we are in the house, and in the field, as well as when we are in the church or in the closet. It instructs men in their duty to their neighbours, as well as in their du- SERMON X. 201 ty to God ; it is our companion in the scene of business as well as in the House of Prayer ; and while it inculcates the weighti- er matters of the law, faith, judgment, and mercy, it neglects not the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which in the sight of God is of great price. All that refinement which polishes the mind ; all that gentleness of manners which sweetens the intercourse of human society, which political philosophers consider as the ef- fects of wise legislation and good govern- ment ; all the virtues of domestic life, are lessons which are taught in the Christian school. The wisdom that cometh from above is " gentle," The fruit of the Spirit is '* meekness." As the sun, although he regulates the seasons, leads on the year, and dispenses light and life to all the pla- netery worlds, yet disdains not to raise and to beautify the flower which opens in his beam : so the Christian religion, though chiefly intended to teach us the knowledge of salvation, and be our guide to happiness on high, yet also regulates our conversa- tion in the world, extends its benign influ- ence to the circle of societv, and diffuses 502 SERMON X. its blessed fruits in the path of domestic life. In farther treating upon this subject, 1 shall, in the first place, describe to you the character of meekness which is here re- commended ; and, in the second place, shew you the happiness with which it is attended. I am, in the first place, then, to describe to you the character of meek- ness which is here recommended. Every virtue, whether of natural or re- vealed religion, is situated between some vices or defects, which though essentially different, yet bear some resemblance to the virtvie they counterfeit ; on account of which resemblance they obtain its name, and impose upon those who labour under the want of discernment. This meekness which is here recommended, is not at all the same with that courtesy of mannei's which is learned in the school of the world. That is but a superficial accomplishment^ and often proceeds from a hoUowness of heart. It is also quite different from con- stitutional facility, that undeciding state SERMON X. 203 of the mind which easily bends to every proposal ; that is a weakness, and not a virtue. Neither does it at all resemble that tame and passive temper which pa- tiently bears insults and submits to inju- ries : that is a want of spirit, and argues a cowardly mind. This meekness is a Christian grace wrought in us by the Ho- ly Spirit : it is a stream from the fountain of all excellence. A good temper, a good education, and just views of religion, must concur in forming this blessed state of the mind. It becomes a principle which in- fluences the whole life. Though consist- ent in all its operations with boldness and with spirit, yet its chief characteristics arc goodness, and gentleness, and long-suffering. It looks with candour upon all ; often con- descends to the prejudices of the weak, and often forgives the errors of the fool- ish. But to give you a more particular view of it, we may place it in three capital lights, as it respects our general behaviour, our conduct to our enemies, and our con- duct to our friends. 204f SERMON X. With respect to his general behaviour^ the meek man looks upon all his neigh- bours with a candid eye. The two great maxims on which he proceeds, are, not to give offence, and not to take offence. He enters not with the keenness of passion in- to the contentions of violent men : he jkeeps aloof from the contagion of party- madness, and feels not the little passions which agitate little minds. He wishes, and he studies to allay the angry passions of the contending ; to moderate the fierce- ness of the implacable ; to reconcile his neighbours to one another ; and, as far as lies in his power, to make all mankind one great family of friends. He will not in- deed descend one step from the dignity of his character ; nor will he sacrifice the dictates of his own conscience to any con- sideration whatever. But those points of obstinacy, which the world are apt to call points of honour, he will freely and cheer- fully give up for the good of society. He loves to live in peace with all mankind ; but this desire too has its limits. He will keep no terms with those who keep no terms with virtue. A villain, of whatever SERMON X. 205 station, of whatever religious profession, he detests as abomination. Thus you see that though softness, and gentleness, and for- bearance, and long-sufFering, are the chief characteristics of this virtue, yet at the same time it is very consistent with exer- tions of spirit. When it acts, it acts with vigour and decision. Moses, who has the testimony of the Divine Spirit, that he was the meekest man upon the face of the earth, yet when occasion presented itself, felt the influence of an elevated temper, and slew the Egyptian who was wounding his countryman. A meeker than Moses, even our Lord himself, though gentle and beneficent to all the sons of men, yet when the worldly-minded Jews profaned the Temple, he was moved with just indigna- tion, and drove the impious from the House of God. Nothing is often more calm and serene than the face of the hea- vens ; but when guilt provokes the venge- ance of the Most High, forth comes the thun- der to blast the devoted head. Such is the influence of meekness on our general behaviour. It ought also to 206 SERMON X. regulate our conduct to our enemies. There is no principle which more strong- ly operates in human nature than the law of retaliation. This appears from the laws of all nations in the early state, which always ordained a punishment similar to the offence ; eye for eye, tooth for tooth, and life for hfe. This appears also from our own feelings ; when an injury is done us, we naturally long for revenge. Our heart tells us, that the person offending ought to su.ffer for the offence, and that the hand of him who was injured, must return the blow. Such are the dictates of the na- tural temper. But pursue this principle to its full extent, and you vvill see where it will end. One man commits an action which is injurious to you ; you feel yourself ag- grieved, and seek revenge. If you then retaliate upon him, he thinks he has re- ceived a new injury, which he also seeks to revenge ; and thus a foundation is laid for reciprocal animosities without end. Did this principle and this practice become general, the earth would be a field of bat- tle, life would be a scene of bloodshed, and hostilities would be immortal. Le-= SERMON X. 20^^ gislative wisdom hath provided a' remedy for these disorders, and for this havoc which would be made of the human spe- cies. The right of private vengeance, which every man is born with, by common con- sent, and for the public good, is resigned into the hands of the civil magistrate. But there are man 7 things which come not under the jvirisdiction of the laws, and the cognizance of the magistrate, which tend to disturb the public peace, and set inankind at variance. Private animosities and little quarrels often arise, which might be productive of great disorder and detri- ment to society. Here, therefore, where legislative wisdom fails, religion steps in and checks the desire of vengeance, by enjoining that meekness of spirit which disposes not to retaliate but to forgive. He therefore who possesses this spirit, will not answer a fool according to his folly. He v^'ill not depart from his usual maxims of conduct, because another has behaved improperly. Because his neighbour has been guilty of one piece of folly, he will not reckon that an inducement for him to be guilty of another. He will regulate 208 SERMON X. his conduct by that standard of virtue which is within, and not by the behaviour of those around him. Accordingly, in- stead of harbouring animosities against those who have done him ill offices, he will be disposed to return good for evil : remembering that our Lord adds at the conclusion of this chapter, " I say unto *' you, love your enemies, that ye may be " the children of your Father which is in *' Heaven ; for he maketh the sun to ** rise on the evil and on the good, and " sendeth rain on the just and on th^ un- *' just." This meekness ought also to appear in our conduct towards our friends. In the present state of things, where human na- ture is so frail, where the very best have their weak side, and where so many events happen, which give occasion to the pas- sions of men to shew themselves, there is great scope for the exercise of meek- ness and moderation. The faults of man- kind, in general, present a most unpleasant spectacle ; but the failings of those we love, of those on whom we have confer- SERMON X. 209 red obligations, arc apt to fill us with disgust and aversion. If it had been an enemy who had done this, I could have borne it. I would have expected no better ; but thou, O my familiar friend, how shall I forgive thee ? Such, at the time, is the language of nature. But better views, and more mature reflection, will teach us to throw a veil over those infirmities which are inseparable from the best na- tures, and to frame an excuse for those errors, which proceed not from a bad heart. In all these instances of meekness, Je- sus of Nazareth left us an example, that we should follow his steps. In his gene- ral , behaviour, he was meek and lowly, and condescending. He went about doing good, and received testimony from his ene- mies, that " he did all things well." To the errors of his friends, he was mild and gentle. When, moved by false zeal, in which they are still followed by many, who have the assurance to call themselves his disciples, they besought him to cause fire to descend from beaven, and consume a city^ Vol. I. O 210 SERMON X. which behevcd not in his doctrines ; all the rebuke he administered was, '* Ye know *' not what manner of spirit ye are of; the " Son of Man came not to destroy mens' " hves, but to save them." When he suf- fered his agony in the garden, in the hour and in the power of darkness, when he besought his disciples to watch with him in this dreadful scene, and when, instead of giving him comfort, they sunk uncon- cerned into sleep ; instead of reproving them with severity, as their conduct de- served, he himself sought for an excuse for them : ^* The spirit indeed is willing, *' but the flesh is weak," Though he was the friend of all mankind, yet he had ene- mies who sought his life. ''I have done," said he, " many good deeds among you, *' for which of these do you stone me?" And when after persecuting him in his life, they brought him to the accursed death of the cross, his last words were, " Father forgive them, for they know not " what they do." Go thou ! and do like- wise. , The second thing proposed was, to shew SERMON X. 211 the happiness annexed to this character, expressed here by " inheriting the earth." The meek are not indeed always to be great and opulent. Happiness, God be praised, is not annexed, and is not confin- ed, to the superior stations of life. There is a great difference between possessing the good things of life, and enjoying them. Whatever be his rank in life, the meek man bids the fairest chance for enjoying its advantages. A proud and passionate man puts his happiness in the power of every fool he meets with. A failure in duty or affection from a friend, want of respect from a dependant, and a thousand little circumstances, which a candid man would overlook, disturb his repose. He is perpetually on the fret, and his life is one scene of anxiety after another. On the other hand, the meek is not disturbed by the transactions of this scene of vanity. He is disposed to be pleased at all events. Instead of repining at the success of those around him, he rejoices in their prospe- rity, and is thus happy in the happiness of all his neighbours. Such are the bless- d effects of meekness on the character. O 2 S12 SERMON X. This beam from heaven kindles joy with- in the mind : it spreads a serenity over the countenance, and diffuses a kind of sun- shine over the whole Hfe. It puts us out of the power of accidents. It keeps the world at a due distance. It is armour to the mind, and keeps off the arrows of wrath. It preserves a sanctuary within, calm and holy, which nothing can disturb. Safe and happy in this asylum, you smile at the madness of the multitude. You hear the tempest raging around, and spending its strength in vain. As this virtue con- tributes to our happiness here, so it is also the best preparation for the happiness which is above. It is the very temper of the heavens. It is the disposition of the saints in light, and angels in glory ; of that blessed society of friends who rejoice in the presence of God, and who, in mutual love, and joint hosannahs of praise, enjoy the ages of eternity. To conclude : there is hardly a duty en- joined in the whole book of God, on which more stress seems often to be laid, than this virtue of meekness. ** The Lord lov- SERMON X. 2iS ** eth the meek — The meek will he beau- '* tify with his salvation. — He arises to save *' the meek of the earth." Christ was sent to preach *' glad tidings to the meek.'* Upon this our Lord rests his own charac- ter. " Learn of me, for I am meek." In the epistles of Paul, there is a remarkable expression : ** I beseech you by the meek- *' ness and the gentleness of Christ,'' The Holy Ghost, too, is called '* the Spirit of *' Meekness." Implore, then, O Chris- tian ! the assistance of the Divine Spirit, that he may endow you with this virtue^ and that you may shew in your life the meekness of wisdom. O 5 SERMON XL Isaiah Ivlii, 7. •Deal tinj tread to the hungri/ : — hide not thyself from thine own fleshy ' •TTThy there are so many evils in the world, is a question that has been Agitated ever since men felt them. As God is possessed of all perfections, he could have created the universe without evil. To him, revolving the plan of his creation, every benevolent system presented itself; how came it then to pass, that a Being, neither controuled in power, nor limited in wisdom, nor deficient in goodness, should create a world in which many evils are to be found, and much suffering to be en- dured ? It becomes not us, with too pre- SERMON XL V 215 sumptuous a curiosity, to assign the causes of the Divine conduct, or with too dar- ing a hand, to draw aside the veil which covers the councils of the Almighty. But from this state of things we see many good effects arise. That industry, which keeps the world in motion ; that society which, by mutual wants, cements mankind to- gether ; and that charity, which is the bond of perfection, would neither have a place nor a name, but for the evils of hu- man life. Thus, the enjoyments of life are grafted upon its wants ; from natural evil arises moral good, and the sufferings of some contribute to the happiness of all. Such being the state of human affairs, charity, or that disposition which leads us to supply the wants, and alleviate the suf- ferings of unhappy men, as well as bear with their infirmities, must be a duty of capital importance. Accordingly, it is en- joined in our holy religion, as being the chief of the virtues. There is no duty commanded in Scripture, on Vvrhich so much stress is laid, as on the duty of cha- rity. It is assigned as the test and crite- rion, by which we arc to distinguish the 5216 SERMON ll. disciples of Jesus, and it will be selected at the great day, as being that part of the character which is most decisive of the life, and according to which the last sen- tence is to turn. Charity, in its most comprehensive sense, signifies that dispo- sition of mind, which, from a regard and gratitude to God, leads to do all the good in our power to man. Thus, it takes in a large circle, extending to all the virtues of the social, and many graces of the di- vine life. But as this would lead us into a wide field, all that I intend at present is to consider that branch of charity which is called Almsgiving ; and, in treating upon it^ shall, in the first place, shew you how alms ought to be bestowed ; and, secondly^ give exhortations to the practice of thi$ duty. The first thing proposed was, to shew you what is the most proper method of be- stowing charity. This inquiry is the more necessary, as, in the neighbourhood of great cities, we are always surrounded by the needy and importunate, and it is often difficult to distinguish those who are pro- SERMON 11. 2n per objects of chanty from those who are not. The best method of bestowing charity upon the healthy and the strong, is to give them employment. Almighty God creat- ed us ail for industry and action. He never intended that any man upon the face of the earth should be idle. Accord- ingly, he hath placed us in a state which abounds with incentives to industry, and in which we must be active, in order to live. One half of the vices of men take their origin from idleness. He who has no- thing to do is an easy prey to the tempter. Men must have occupation of one kind or other. If they are not employed in useful and beneficial labours, they will engage in those which are pernicious and criminal. To support the indolent, therefore, to keep those idle who are able to work, is acting contrary to the intention of God ; is doing an injury to society, which claims a right to the services of all its members ; is de- frauding real objects of charity of that which is their proper due, and is fostering a race of sluggards to prey upon the vitals 21S SERMON XI. of a state. But he is a valuable member of society, and merits well of mankind, who by devising means of employment for the industrious, delivers the public from an useless incumbrance, and makes those who otherwise would be the pests of socie- ty, useful subjects of the commonwealth. If it be merit, and no small merit it is, to improve the face of a country ; to turn the desert into a fruitful field, and make the barren wastes break forth into singing ; it is much more meritorious to cultivate the deserts in the moral world ; to render those who might be otherwise pernicious mem- bers of society, happy in themselves, and beneficial to the state ; to convert the talent that was wrapt up in a napkin, into a pub- lic use ; and by opening a new source of industry, make life and health to circulate through the whole political body. Such a person is a true patriot, and does more good to mankind, than all the heroes and man-destroyers who fill the annals of his- tory. The fame of the one is foimded up- on the numbers that he has slain ; the glo- ry of the other rises from the numbers that he preserves and makes happy. SERMON XL 2VJ Another act of charity, of equal import- ance, is to supply the wants of the really indigent and necessitous. If the indvistri- ous, with all their efforts, are not able to earn a competent livelihood ; if the produce of their labour be not proportionable to the demands of a numerous family ; then they are proper objects of your charity. Nor can there be conceived a more pitiable case, than that of those whose daily labour, after the utmost they can do, will not pro- cure daily bread for themselves and their household. To consider a parent who has toiled the live-long day in hardship, who yet at night, instead of finding rest, shall find a pain more insupportable than all his fatigues abroad : the cravings of a nume- rous and a helpless family, which he can- not satisfy : this is sufficient to give the most lively touches of compassion to every heart that is not past feeling. Nor can there be an exercise of charity better judged, than administering to the wants of those who are at the same time industrious and indigent. -1 Another class of men that demand our ^20 S k fe M 1^ XL charity, is the aged and feeble, who, ai^^ ter a life of hard labour, after being worn out with the cares and business of life, are grown unfit for further business, and who add poverty to the other miseries of old age. What can be more worthy of lis, than thus to contribute to their happi- ness, who have been once useful, and are still willing to be so ; to allow them not to feel the want of those enjoyments, which they are not now able to procure ; to be a staff to their declining days ; to smooth the furrows in the faded cheek, and to make the winter of old age wear the aspect of spring ? Children also bereft of their parents, or- phans cast upon the care of Providence, are signal objects of compassion. To act the part of a father to those upon whose help- less years no parent of their own ever smil- ed ; to rear up the plant that was left alone to perish in the storm ; to fence the tender bloom against the early blasts of vice ; to watch and superintend its growth, till it flourishes and brings forth fruit : this is a noble and beneficial employment well SERMON XL 221 cidapted to a generous mind. What can be more delightful than thus to train up the young to happiness and virtue ; to con- duct them, with a safe but gentle hand, through the dangerous stages of infancy and youth ; to give them, at an age v/hen. their minds are most susceptible of good impressions, early notices of religion, and render them useful members of society, v^ho, if turned adrift, and left defenceless, would, vvithout the extraordinary grace of God, become a burden and a nuisance to the world. But there is a class of the unfortunate not yet mentioned, who are the greatest objects of all ; those who, after having been accustomed to ease and plenty, are, by some unavoidable reverse of fortune, by no fault or folly of theirs, condemned to bear, what they are least able to bear, the galling load of poverty ; who, after having been perhaps fathers to the father- less, in the day of their prosperity, arq now become the objects of that charity which they were wont so liberally to dis- pense. These persons plead the more 222 SERMON XL strongly for our relief, because they are the least able to reveal their misery, and make their wants known. Let these, there- fore, in a peculiar manner, partake the bounty of the liberal and open hand. Let your goodness descend to them in secret, and, like the Providence of Heaven, con- ceal the hand which sends them relief, that their blushes may be spared while their wants are supplied. Concerning one class of the indigent, va- grants and common beggars, I have hither- to said nothing. About these your own ob- servation and experience, will enable you to judge. Some of them are real and de- serving objects of your compassion. Of others, the greatest want is the want of in- dustrv and virtue. The second thing proposed was, to give exhortations to the practice of this duty. This duty is so agreeable to the common notions of mankind, that every one con- demns the mean and sordid spirit of that wretch whom God has blessed with abun- dance, and consequently with the powef SERMON XL 223 of blessing others, and who is yet relent- less to the cries of the poor and miserable. We look with contempt and abhorrence upon a man who is ever amassing riches, and never bestowing them : as greedy as the sea, and yet as barren as the shore. Numbers, it is true, think they have done enough in declaiming against the practice of such persons ; for upon the great and the opulent they think the whole burden of this duty ought to rest ; but for themselves, being somewhat of a lower class, they de- sire to be excused. Their circumstances, they say, are but just easy, to answer the demands of their family, and, therefore, they plead inability, and expect to be ex- empted from the performance of this du- ty. Before this excuse will be of any avail, it behoves them to consider whether they do not indulge themselves in expences un- suitable to their rank and condition. Ima- ginary wants are boundless, and charity will never begin, if it be postponed till these have an end. Every man, whether rich or poor, is concerned in this duty, in proportion to bis circumstances : and he Uiat has little, is as strictly bound to give 224 SERMON XL something out of that little, as he that hath more is obHged to give more. What ad- vantage was it to the poor widow, that she by giving her one mite into the trea- sury, could exercise a nobler charity than all the rich had done ? The smallest gift may be the greatest bounty. The practice of this duty, therefore, is incumbent upon all. To the performance of it you are drawn by that pity and com- passion which are implanted in the heart. Compassion is the call of our Father in heaven to us his children, to put us upon relieving our brethren in distress. This is an affection wisely interwoven in our frame by the Author of our nature, that where- as abstracted reason is too sedentary and remiss a counsellor, we might have a more instant and vigorous pleader in our breasts, to excite us to acts of charity. As far, in- deed, as it is ingrafted in us, it is mere instinct ; but when we cultivate and che- rish it, till we love mercy, when we dwell upon every tender sentiment that opens our mind and enlarges our heart, then it becomes a virtue. Whosoever thou SERMON XL 22B art whose heart is hardened and waxed gross, put thyself in the room of some poor unfriended wretch, beset perhaps with a large family, broken with misfor- tunes, and pining with poverty, whilst silent grief preys upon his vitals ; in such a case what wouldst thou think it rea- sonable thy rich neighbours should do ? That, like the Priest and the Levite, they should look with an eye of indifference, and pass by on the other side ; or like the good Samaritan, pour balm into thy wound- ed mind ? Be thyself the judge ! and what- ever thou thinkest reasonable thy neigh- bours should do to thee, go thou and do likewise unto them. Consider next the pleasure derived from benevolence. Mean and illiberal is the man whose soul the good of himself can entirely engross. True benevolence, ex- tensive as the light of the sun, takes in all mankind. It is not indeed in your pov\rer to support all the indigent, incurable, and aged ; it is not in your power to train up in the paths of virtue many friendless and fatherless children: bvit if, as far as the Vol. L P 226 SERMON XL compass of your power reaches, nothing is deprived of the influence of your bounty, and where your power falls short, you are cordially affected to see good works done by others ; those charities which you could not do, will be placed to your account. To grasp thus the whole system of reason- able beings, with an overflowing love, is to possess the greatest of all earthly enjoy- ments, is to make approaches to the hap- piness of higher natures, and anticipate the joy of the world to come. For it is im- possible, that the man who, actuated by a principle of obedience to his Creator, has cherished each generous and liberal move- ment of the soul, with a head ever studious to contrive, a heart ever willing to pro- mote, and hands ever ready to distribute to the good of his fellow-creatures, should notwith.>tanding be doomed to be an asso- ciate for ever with accursed spirits, in a place where benevolence never shed its kindly beams, but malice and anguish, and blackness of darkness, reign for ever and ever. No, the riches which we have given away will abide with us for ever- SERMON XL 227 The same habit of love will accompany us to another world. The bud which hath opened here will blow into full expansion above, and beautify the paradise in the heavens. P 2 SERMON XII. Matthew v, 19. Tfhosoever therefore shall hrecik one of these least commandments^ and shall teach men sOy he shall be called the least in the kingdom of heaven. »TnHE Roman Catholics divide sins into •^ tvv^o classes, the venial and the mor- tal. In the first class, they include those slight offences which, as they say, are too inconsiderable to offend the Deity ; and, in the second, those great and aggravated transgressions which expose men to the Divine vengeance in the world to come. Although this distinction, which over- throws the law of morality, is abjured by all Protestants, yet something like it is SERMON XII. 229 still retained by great numbers of men. What the Papists call venial sins, they call sins of infirmity, human failings, imper- fections inseparable from men. And their own favourite vices, whatever they be, they call by these names. Cruel is the condition of the human kind, say they, and rigorous the spirit of the Christian law, if we are to lie under such terrible re- strictions i if breaking one of the least com- mandments shall exclude us from the king- dom of God. Will the Great Creator be offended by a few trivial transgressions ; with little liberties, which eerve only for amusement ? If others take a general to- leration, shall we not have an indulgence at particular times ? If we are prohibited from turning back in the paths of virtue, may we not make a random excursion ? If we are not allowed to taste the fruits, may wc not at least crop the blossoms, of the forbidden tree ? While the waters of plea- sure flow so near, and look so tempting, shall we not be permitted to taste and live ? Will the Great Judge of the world con- demn us to eternal punishment, for the in^ dulgence of a wandering inclination^ for P3 230 SERMON Xll. the gratification of a sudden appetite, for a look, a word, or a thought ? As this is the apology of vice, which, at one time or another all of you make to yourselves, I shall now shew you the dan- gerous nature and fatal tendency of those offences you call little sins. And in enter- ing upon the subject. Christians, I must observe to you, that the attempt to join to- gether the joys of religion, and the plea- sures of sin, is altogether impracticable. The Divine law regulates the enjoyments as well as the business of life. You are never to forget one moment that you arc Christians. The joys which you are al- lowed to partake of, are in the train of vir- tue. While you are pilgrims in the wild- erness, if you return to Egypt again, you forfeit your title to the promised land. You have left the dominions of sin, you have come into another kingdom ; and if now you revolt to the foe, you are guilty of treason, and may expect to meet with the punishment which treason deserves. How shall we distinguish then, you say, between the sins of infirmity, into which SERMON XII. 231 the best may fall, and the violation of those least commandments which exclude from the kingdom of God ? I answer, the text makes the distinction. Sins of infirmity proceed from frailty and surprise. The temptation comes upon men unexpected ; the foe meets them unprepared ; and, in such cases, the most circumspect may be off their guard, and the best natures may fall. But those sins which exclude from the kingdom of God, are from deliberation and full consent of the mind. 1 he per- sons who commit them, as the text says, " teach men so ;" that is, they justify themselves in what they do, and sin upon a plan. Their evil intentions are not occa- sional and transient, but permanent and governing ; they sleep and wake upon their bad designs, and carry them along in their going out and coming in ; and thus form- ing evil habits, make their lives a system of iniquity. Whoever does so, though it be only in the violation of what he reckons the least commandment, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven ; that is, shall be excluded altogether from it. BS2 SERMON XIL It is proposed, at this time, to set before you the evil nature and dangerous tend- ency of the least transgressions. And, in the Jirst place, it may be observed, that it is a series of little actions that marks the characters of men. Human life is not com- posed of great events, but of minute occur- rences ; and it is not from a man s extraor- dinary exertions, but from his ordinary conduct, that we form our judgment of his character. When a great event is transact- ing, a man is on his guard, he is prepared to act his part well, and often, on such oc- casions, in the hour of exhibition, he ap- pears to the world a different person from what he really is. But in the series of lit- tle actions, in the detail of ordinary life, the turn of mind discovers itself, the tem- per unfolds, the character appears. It is then, when a man is himself, the mask falls off. and the true countenance is displayed. Human life, then, being a circle of petty transactions, and the temper of men being known from their conduct in little affairs, our character for virtue will depend on our performance of what the world calls the least of the commandments. This is net SERMON XIL 258 peculiar to virtue. What is it that consti- tutes the happiness of domestic hfe ? Not the singular and uncommon situations, but the familiar and the ordinary : not the striking events that fly abroad in the mouths of the people, but the daily round of little things which are never mentioned. A miser may have a feast, and be a miser still ; he only is a happy man who has his enjoyments every day. With very great talents, and without any remarkable vice, a man may become a most disagreeable member of society, by his neglect of the attentions and civilities and deco- rum of life. In like manner, without be- ing guilty of any enormous sin, by the ha- bitual neglect of inferior duties, and by the practice of little ojffences, a man may sin unto death, A good life is one of those pictures whose perfection arises from the nice and jthe minute strokes. It is not one blazing star, but the host of lesser lights, which forms the beauty of the heavens. In like manner, how does the Great Judge at the last day decide the fate, ^nd determine the 234 SERMON XII. characters, of men ? You reckon sins of omission but little sins, yet, on account of these, the sentence of everlasting condemn- ation is passed. Because ye gave no bread to the hungry, no water to the thirsty, and no raiment to the naked, relieved not the oppressed, and visited not the prisoner, therefore, '* depart into everlasting fire, '* prepared for the devil and hi- angels.'* In like manner, he determines the charac- ter of the righteous, not from the striking and splendid virtues which they exhibited to the world, but from the performance of the inferior duties of daily life : " Come " ye blessed of my father, inherit the king' *' dom prepared for you from the founda- " tion of the world." Why ^ Is it for the splendid works of piety, for building temples to the Deity, or dying as martyrs to the Christian ftiith ? No. Men may build temples, without love to the Deity ; they may die as martyrs, without real re- ligion ; but because ye have given food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, and rai- ment to the naked ; actions of life in which ye must have been sincere, because ye ne- ver expected that such actions would bt SERMON XIL 235 heard of, and the practice of them grew so much into habit, that ye scarcely thought it a virtue to perform them. Secondly^ these little sins attack the au- thority of the Divine Legislator as much, or perhaps more than great sins. Evil thoughts are as expressly prohibited in the Divine law as evil deeds. The same God who says, thou shalt not kill, says also, thou shalt not hate thy brother in thy heart. What sentiment m.ust you enter- tain of the Majesty in the Heavens, when his command cannot restrain you from the commission of the least sin ? Hath not God forbidden the impure desire and the mali- cious intention, as well as adultery and murder ? And is it not as much his will that he should be obeyed in those com- mandments as in these f Have you a dis- pensation granted you to take the name of God in vain in common conversation, any more than you have to swear falsely before a civil magistrate ? Have you more liberty allowed you to wound your neighbour's cha- racter than you have to shed his blood ^ No $a« SERMON XII. the prohibition extends to the one as well as to the other. The same authority that forbids the action, forbids the desire. I'he same law which says, thou shalt not steal, says also, thou shalt not covet. But you say, that the indulgences you plead for, are with regard to things in their own na- ture indifferent. Alas ? if you had proper ideas of a God possessed of infinite perfec- tion, nothing that he commands or forbids would appear indifferent. To you it may appear a matter of little moment or con- cern, what the strain of your thoughts is, or how the tenor of your conversation runs ; but w^hen you learn that your thought: are known in heaven, and that by your words you shall be justified or con- demned, these assume a more serious form, and become of infinite importance. But if the things for which you beg an indul- gence, are in their own nature small, why do you not abstain from them ? If the pro- phet had commanded you a great thing, you might have murmured against the pre- cept ; but when he only enjoms what you yourselves reckon a little thing, what pre- tence have you for a complaint ? In place SERMON Xn. 237 of being an excuse, this is an aggravation of your offence. With your own mouth you condemn yourself. Can there be a stronger proof of a degenerate nature and a stubborn mind, than this inclination to disobey your Creator, in things that you reckon of ht:le consequence ? What can shew a heart hardened against God, and set against the Heavens, so much r.s this refractory and rebellious disposition, which leads men to violate the Majesty of the law, to insult the authority of the Lawgiver, to risk the vengeance of the Omnipotent, and to pour contempt on all the perfections of the Divine nature, rether than part w4th what they themselves reckon small and in- considerable. In the third place, you may contract as much guilt by breaking the least of the commandments, as by breaking the great- est of them. You. start back and are af- frighted at the approach of great inquity ; the heart revolts from a temptation to flag- rant sins ; yet thousands of lesser sins, evil thoughts, malicious words, petty oaths, commodious lies, little deceits, you make 238 SERMON Xri no scruple to commit every day. But the guilt of such reiterated sins is as great, or greater, than that of any single sin. To hate your neighbour in your heart without cause, to take every opportunity of blasting his character, and defeating his designs, makes you as guilty in the Divine eye, as if you. had imbrued your hands in his blood. To use false weights, and a deceitful balance, is as criminal as a direct act of theft. He who defrauds his neighbours daily in the course of his bu- siness, is a greater sinner before God, and a worse member of society, than he who once in his life, robs on the highway. The frequency of these little sins makes the guilt great, and the danger extreme. The constant operation of evil deeds impairs the strength of the soul, and shakes the foimdation on which virtue rests. Wave succeeding wave undermines the whole fabric of virtue, and makes the building of God to fall. The thorns, which at first could scarcely be seen, spread by degrees over the field, and choke the good seed. The locusts which Moses brought over the land of Egypt, appeared at first a con- SERMON XIL 239 tcmptible multitude ; but in a little time, like a cloud, they darkened the air ; as a mighty army, they covered the face of the earth ; they devoured the herb of the field, the fruit of the tree, and every green thing, and turned v^hat w^as formerly like the garden of Eden into a desolate wilder- ness. 1 hus these little sins increase as they advance ; they blast where they enter ; by degrees they make the spiritual life de- cay ; they lay waste the new creation, and turn the intellectual world into a chaos, without form, and void of order. And yet we are not on our guard against them. It fareth with us as it did with the Israel- ites of old. We tremble more at one Go- liah thaii at the whole army of the Phili- stines. One gross scandalous sin makes us recoil and start back ; and yet we venture on the guilt of numberless smaller sins, without hesitation or remorse. What sig- nifies it whether you die of many small wounds, or by one great wound ? What great difference does it make, whether the devouring fire and the eveilasing burn- ings are kindled by many sparks, or by one fire-brand ? When God shall reckon up 1140 SERMON XII, against you at the great day the many^ thousand malicious thoughts, slanderous words, deceits, oaths, imprecations, lies, that you have been guilty of, the account will be as dreadful, and the wrath as in- supportable, as if atrocious crimes had stood upon the list. In the fourth place, these little ofFences make life a chain and a continuation of ^ins, so that conversion becomes almost impossible. Often, upon the commission of a gross sin . a sober interval succeeds ; serious reflection has its hour ; sorrow and contrition of heart take their turn ; then is the crisis of a man's character ; and many improving this favourable opportunity, have risen greater from their fall. But if these little sins then come in ; if between the commission of one gross sin and another^ there intervenes a constant neglect of God, a hardness of heart, a vanity of imagina* tion, and unfruitfulness of life, you still add to the number of your sins, and trea- sure up to yourselves wrath against the day of wrath. Such little sins fill up all the void spaces \ so that, by this means. SERMON XII. 241 life becomes an uninterrupted and un- broken chain of iniquity. Thus you ren- der yourselves incapable of reformation, and put yourselves out of the power of Di- vine grace. How is it possible that you can ever come within the reach of mercy ? How can the voice of God reach your heart ? He speaks to you in the majestic silence of his works ; but you reckon it no sin at all to shut your ears against the voice which comes from heaven to earth, and reaches from one end of the world to the other. He speaks to you by the voice of his providence ; but you reckon it of little moment to regard the doings of the Lord. He speaks to you in the Holy Scrip- tures ; but you reckon the precept to read these one of the least commandments. He speaks to you in the ordinances of his own institution, but alas ! how many hold it a little sin to absent themselves from these altogether ! And how many of those who attend, think it but a little sin to spend their time as unprofitably as if absent ! He speaks to you with the still small voice ; his Spirit whispers to your spirit. He seeks to enter in by your thoughts j but vanity, Vol. L Q^ '442 SERMON XIL and folly, and vice, swarms of little sins^ stop up the passage. Thus every corner of life is filled up. Every avenue to the heart is shut. You nowhere lie open to the im- pression of Divine grace, and the soul is so full, that there is no room for the Holy Spirit to enter. In the last place, these lesser sins infal- libly lead to greater. There is a fatal pro- gress in vice. One sin naturally leads to another : the first step leads to the second, till, by degrees, you come to the bottom of the precipice. Deceit, duplicity, dissi- mulation in diflPerent matters, which many persons who maintain what is called a de- cent character, make no scruple to employ, have a tendency to render you insincere on more important occasions, and may gradually destroy your character of inte- grity altogether. He who tells falsehoods for his own conveniency^ will, in the na- tural course of things, become a common liar. The spirit of gaming perhaps you reckon a small sin. When gaming is only an SERMON Xil. 243 aiUvisement, it is innocent ; but whenever it goes farther, whenever it is made a se- rious business, and the love of it becomes a passion, farewel to tranquillity and vir- tue ; then succeed clays of vanity and nights of care ; dissipation of life, corrup- tion of manners, inattention to domestic affairs, arts of deceit, lying, cursing, and perjury. At a distance poverty, with con- tempt at her heels, and in the rear of all, despair bringing a halter in her hand. Thus have I set before you the evil na- ture and the dangerous tendency of the least transgressions. And do you ask an indulgence in little sins, when you see how fata! they are ? Do you stili ask to make an excursion from the path of virtue ? Such an excursion if you make, you will fall in with the road to perdition. Do you still wish to taste the waters which unlaw- ful pleasure presents to your eye ? Taste them you may ; but be assured that there is poison in the stream, and death in the cup. Alas ! if we calmly indulge our- selves in the cool commission of the least sin, who knows vohsn or 'whers we shall 244 SERMON XII. stop ? If once we yield to the temptation.^ in whose power is it to say, hitherto shall I go, but no further ? Many persons at their first setting out, would have trembled at the very thought of these sins, which in time, and by an easy transition, they have been brought to commit with boldness. The traitor consigned to eternal infamy, Judas Iscariot, who betrayed the Lord of glory, had at first only his covetousness to answer for. Fly, therefore, I beseech you, fly from the first approaches of sin. Guard your innocence, as you would guard your life. If you advance one step over the line which separates the way of life from the way of death, down you sink to the bottomless abyss. Come not then near the territories of perdition. Stand back and survey the torrent which is now so mighty and overflowing, that it deluges the land, and you will find it to p* oceed from a small contemptible brook. Examine the confla- gration that has laid a city in ashes, and you will find it to arise from a single spark. SERMON XIII. Hebrews xii, 24. ■The blood of sprinkling, tvhich speaketh better things than that of AbeL R EASON and philosophy have applied their powers to external objects with wonderful success. They have traced the order of nature, and explained the elements of things. By observation and experience, they have ascertained the lav/s of the uni- verse ; they have counted the number of the stars ; and following the footsteps of the Almighty, have discovered some of the great lines of that original plan ac- cording to which he created the world. But when they approach the region of spirit and intelligence, they stop short in their discoveries. The mind eludes its ^3 246 SERMON XIII. own search. The Author of our nature has checked our career in such studies, to teach us that action and moral improve- ment, not speculation and inquiry, are the ends of our being. Accordingly, the mo« ral part of our frame is the easiest under- stood. Having been placed here by Pro- vidence for great and noble purposes, vir- tue is the law of our nature. This being the great rule in the moral world, God has enforced it in various ways. He hath endowed us with a sense or faculty which, viewing actions in themselves, without re- gard to their consequences, appro^ves or disapproves them. He hath endowed vis with another sense, which passes sentence upon actions according to their conse- quences in society. He hath given us a third, which, removing human actions from life, and the world altogether, carries them to a higher tribunal. The iirst, which is the moral sense, belongs to us as indivi- duals ; is instinctive in all its operations ; approves of virtue as being moral beauty ; and disapproves of vice as being moral de- formity. The second, which is the sense of utility y belongs to us as members of so- SERMON XIII. 247 ciety, is directed in its operations by rea- son, and passes sentence upon actions ac- cording as they are favourable or perni- cious to the public good. The third, which is conscience^ belongs to us as sub- jects of the Divine government, is directed in its operations by the word of God, and considers human actions as connected with a future state of rewards and punishments. It is this which properly belongs to reli- gion. Upon this faculty of conscience, the happiness or misery of mankind in a great measure depends. A good conscience is a continual feast, and proves a spring of joy amidst the greatest distresses. A con^ science troubled with remorse, or haunted with fear, is the greatest of all human evils. Accordingly, the Christian religion, which adapts itself to every state of our nature, and carries consolation to the mind in every distress, has presented to the weary and heavy laden sinner, *' the blood *' of sprinkling, which speaketh better *' things than the blood of Abel." The meaning of which expression is this : As the blood of Abel, crying to Heaven for vengeance, filled the mind of Cain with 248 SERMON XIIL horror, and as every sin is attended with remorse ; so the blood of Jesus is of power to deUver the mind from this remorse, and restore peace of conscience to the true pe- nitent. In further treating upon this subject, I shall describe to you the nature of that re- morse which is the companion of a guilty mind ; and next the deliverance which the Gospel gives us from it, by means of '* the ^* blood of sprinkling." In the /"rj-^ place, then, let us consider the nature of that re- morse which is the companion of a guilty mind. Almighty God having created man af- ter his own image, intended him for mo- ral excellence and perfection. Hence all his passions were originally set on the side of virtue, and all his faculties tended to heaven. Conscience is still the least cor- rupted of all the powers of the soul. It keeps a faithful register of our deeds, and passes impartial sentence upon them. It is appointed the judge of human life ; is invested with authority and dominion SERMON Xm. S49 over the whole man, and is armed with stings to punish the guilty. These are the sanctions and enforcements of that eternal law to which we are subjected. For even in our present fallen state, we are so fram- ed by the Author of our nature, that mo- ral evil can no more be committed than natural evil can be suffered, without an- guish and disquiet. As pain follows the infliction of a wound, as certainly doth remorse attend the commission of sin. Con- science may be lulled asleep for a while, but it will one day vindicate its rights. It will seize the sinner in an hour when he is not aware ; will blast him perhaps in the midst of his mirth, and put him to the torture of an accusing mind. For the truth of this observation, let me appeal to your own experience. Did you ever indulge a criminal passion ; did you ever allow yourselves in any practice which you knew to be unlawful, without feel- ing an inward struggle and strong reluct- ance of mind before the attempt, and bit- ter pangs of remorse after the commis- sion ? Though no eye saw what you did ; though you were sure that no mortal could 250 SERMON XIIL discover it, did not shame and confusion secretly lay hold of you ? Was not your own conscience instead of a thousand wit- nesses ? Did it not plead with you face to face, and upbraid you for your transgres- sions ? Have not some of you perhaps, at this instant, a sensible experience of the truths which I am now pressing upon you ? In these days of retirement and self-exa- mination, did you not feel the operation of that powerful principle ? Did not your sins then rise up before you in sad remem- brance ? Has not the image of them pur- sued you into the house of God ? And are not your minds now stung with some of that regret which followed upon the first commission ? My brethren, there is no escaping from a guilty mind. You can avoid some evils, by mingling in society ; you can avoid others, by retiring into solitude ; but this enemy, this tormentor within, is never to be avoided. If thou retirest into solitude, it will meet thee there, and haunt thee like a -ghost. If thou goest into society, it will go with thee \ it will mar the en- SERMON XIIL 2^1 tertainment, and dash the untasted cup from thy trembling hand. Whilst the sin- ner indulges his vain imagination ; whilst he solaces himself with the prospect of pleasures rising upon pleasures never to have an end, and says to his soul, be of good cheer, thou hast happiness laid up for many years, a voice comes to his heart that strikes him with sudden fear, and turns the vision of joy to a scene of horror. Whilst the proud and impious Balshazzar enjoys the feast with his princes, his con- cubines, and his wives ; whilst he carouses in the consecrated vessels of the sanctuary ; in a moment the scene changes ; the hand- writing on the wall turns the house of mirth into a house of mourning ; the countenance of the king changes, and his knees smite one against another, whilst the Prophet, in awful accents, pronounces his doom ; pronounces that his hour is come, and that his kingdom is departed from him. It is in adversity that the pangs of con- science are most severely felt. When af- fliction humbles the native pride of the 252 SERMON XIII. heart, and gives a man leisure to reflect upon his former ways, his past Hfe rises up to view ; having now no interest in the sins which he committed, they appear in all their native deformity, and fill his mind with anguish and remorse. Men date their misfortunes from their faults, and acknowledge their sin when they meet with the punishment. The sons of Jacob felt no remorse when they sold their bro- ther to be a slave ; they had delivered themselves from the foolish fear that he was one day to be greater than they ; they congratulated themselves upon the mighty deliverance. But the very first misfortune which befel them, a little rough usage in a foreign land, awakened their guilty fears, and they said one to another, '* We " are verily guilty concerning our bro- " ther, in that we saw the anguish of his *' soul when he besought us, and we would ** not hear, therefore is this distress come " upon us." But that the prosperous sinner may not presume upon impunity from the lashes of % guilty mind, and to shew you that no SERMON Xm. ^5S situation, however exempted from adver- sity, and that no station, however exalted, is proof against the horrors of remorse, I shall adduce two remarkable instances of persons who felt all the horrors of a guilty mind, without meeting with any judg- ments to awaken them. The first is that of Cain, referred to in the text. When the offering of Abel ascended acceptable and well-pleasing to God, Cain was seized with envy ; from that moment he medi- tated vengeance against him, and at last imbrued his hands in the blood of his brother. There was then no law against murder ; and if antecedent to law there is no original sense of right and wrong im- planted in the mind, if conscience, as some affirm, was not a natural but an acquired power, the mind of Cain might have been at ease ; he might have enjoyed the calm and the serenity of innocence. But when he was brought to the tribunal of con- science, was his mind at ease ? Did he en- joy the calm and the serenity of inno- cence ? No. He cried out in the bitter- ness of remorse, " My punishment is great- " er than I can bear." What punishment 254 SERMON Xllt. did he complain of? There was then rio punishment denounced against murder, and the Lord expressly secvired him from corporal punishment. But he had that within, to which all external punishments are light. He was extended on the rack of reflection, and he lay upon the torture of the mind. Hell was kindled within him, and he felt the first gnawings of the worm that never dies. Another remarkable instance of the do- minion of conscience, we have in the his- tory of Herod. John the Baptist, the harbinger of our Lord, sojourned a while in the court of Herod. This faithful mo- nitor spared not sin in the person of a king, but reproved him openly for his vices* Herod, although he disliked, yet he re- spected the prophet, and feared the mul- titude, who believed in his doctrines. But on Herod's birth-day, when the daughter of Herodias danced before him, he made a sudden vow, that he would grant her what- ever she desired. Being instructed of her mother, she asked the head of John the Baptist. One of the common arts by SERMON XIIL 255 which We deceive our consciences is to set one duty against another. Hence sin is generally committed under the appear- ance of some virtue, and hence the great- est crimes which have ever troubled the world, have been committed under the name, and under the shew of religion. Such was the crime which we are now considering. The observance of an oath has, among all nations, been regarded as a religious act ; and here a fair opportuni- ty offered itself to one who only waited for such an opportunity, to make religion triumph at the expence of virtue. If He- rod had no inclination to destroy the Pro- phet, and no interest in his death, his con- science would have told him that murder was an atrocious crime, which no considera- tion could alleviate, nor excuse ; it would 3iave told him that vows, which it is un- lawful to make, it is also vinlawful to keep ; but Herod was already a party in the cause ; he determined to get quit of his enemy ; he satisfied his conscience with some vain pretences, and gave orders to be- head the Baptist. But were all his anxie- ties and sorrows buried with the Prophet ? 255 SERMON Xlir. No : the grave of the Prophet was thd grave of his peace. Neither the splendour of majesy, nor the guards of state, nor the noise of battle, nor the shouts of vic- tory could drow^n the alarms of conscience. That mangled form was ever present to Jiis eyes ; the cry of blood was ever in his cars. Hence, when our Saviour appeared in a public character, and began to teach and to work miracles, Kerod cried out, in the horrors of a guilty mind, " It is John " the Baptist whom I slew ; he is risen " from the dead." How great, my brethren, is the power and dominion of conscience ! The Al- mighty appointed it his vicegerent in the ^orld ; he invested it w4th his own autho- rity, and said, " Be thou a God unto ** man." hence it has power over the course of time. It can recal the past ; it can anticipate the future. It reaches be- yond the limits of this globe ; it visits the chambers of the grave ; it reanimates the bodies of the dead ; exerts a dominion over the invisible regions, and summons the inhabitants of the eternal world to SERMON XIII. 257 iiaunt the slumbers, and shake the hearts of the wicked. Tremble then, O man 1 whosoever thou art, who art conscious to thyself of unrepented sins. Peace of mind thou shalt never enjoy. Repose, like a fldse friend, shall fly from thee. Thou shalt be driven from the presence of thq Lord like Adam when he sinned, and be terrified when thou hearest his voice, as awful when it comes from within, as when it came from without. The spirit of a man may sustain his infirmity ; but a spirit w^ounded by remorse who can bear ? The second thing proposed, was, to shew you the deliverance which the Gospel gives us from remorse, by means of the " blood " of sprinkling.'' This expression aUudes to the ceremonial method of expiating sin under the Old Testament, by offering sa- crifices, and sprinkling the blood of the victim upon the altar. But, as this was in itself only typical of Christ, how wel- come to the soul is the glad tidings of the Messiah, who did, what these sacrifices could not do, — actually save his people from their sins ! By the atonement and Vol. I. R 258 SERMON XIII. blood of Christ, the sins of men have beem completely expiated. It is the voice of the Gospel of Peace, " Take, eat, and live for " ever." What relief will it give to the wounded mind, to hear of the blood of sprinkling, which speaketh better things than the blood of Abel f The Gospel be- ing published to the world, and the offers of mercy through a Redeemer being made to all men, the sincere penitent accepts these offers, and flies for refuge to the hope set before him. Then Jesus saves his people from their sins, he heals the mind which v/as wounded by remorse, and be- stows that peace which the world cannot give, and cannot take away. There is joy in heaven, we are told, over a sinner that repenteth, and the joy of the heavens is communicated to the returning penitent. When he beholds God reconciled to him in the face of his Son ; v/hen he hears, in secret, the blessed Jesus whispering in sweet strains to his heart, '' Son, be of *' good cheer, thy sins are forgiven thee," he is filled with peace and with joy ; with peace which passeth all understanding ; with joy which is unspeakable and glori- SERMON XIII. 259 bus, His sins being forgiven, he is ac- cepted in the Beloved. He is an heir of immortality, and his name is written in heaven ; to him is opened the fountain of Hfe. He has a title to all the pleasures which are at God's right hand ; to the treasures of heaven, and to the joys of eternity. He looks forward with a well- grounded hope, to that happy day, when he shall take possession of the inheritance on high ; he anticipates the delights of the world to come ; and breaks forth into strains of exultation, similar to those trans- ports of assurance uttered by the Apostle^ *' Who shall lay any thing to the charge " of God's elect ? It is God that justifieth; " who is he that condemneth ? It is Christ " that died, yea, rather, that is risen again, ** and who now sitteth and intercedeth for " us at God's right hand.'* R 2 SERMON XIV. Mark viii, S6. For what shall it profit a man^ if he shall gain the ivhole world^ and lose his oivn soul f T 'HERE is not a person in this assem- bly, but who assents immediately to the truth of the maxim implied in the text. You all agree, that religion is the one thing needful, and that above all things you ought to seek the kingdom of God, and the righteousness thereof. But there is a wide difference between the assent of the mind to the truth of this principle, and that deep conviction of its importance, which, in Scripture, obtains the name of faith ; sufficient to influence the heart, and to determine the life. A great part of mankind seem to have no steady belief R 3 262 SERMON XIV. that they are endowed with souls which are immortal ; an eternity to come is with them merely a matter of speculation, and their faith in a future world has little more influence upon their lives, than their idea of a distant country, which they are never to see. Hence spiritual and eternal things are heard with little emotion or concern, while they are delivered in the house of God. Some can give themselves up to listlessness ; and others soon lose all re- membrance of what they have heard, in the next amusement, or in the news of the day. Even he who spoke as never man spake, and while he discoursed on points of such importance as the loss of the soul, had occasion often to take up the complaint, that in vain he stretched out his hands all day long to a disobedient people. To call your contemplation, then, to these subjects, for they need no more but to be considered aright, in order to be felt, I shall endeavour to shew you the value of the soul, from its native dignity, from its capacity of improvement, from its immor- SERMON XIV. 263 tality, and from its unalterable state at death. Let US consider then, in the /"rj-/ place, the native importance and dignity of the human soul. It is the mind chiefly that is the man. Our souls properly are our- selves. The bodily organs are the mi- nisters of the mind ; by these it sees and hears, and holds a correspondence with external things. It is by our souls that we hold our station in the scale of being ; that we rank above the animal world, and claim alliance with superior and immor- tal natures. As the soul is superior to the body, so intellectual pleasures exceed the sensual ; as heaven is higher than the earth, so the joys of a heavenly origin are superior to earthly enjoyments. I mean not in the common way, to depreciate temporal possessions, as being insignificant in themselves, and unworthy ti-e cares or labours of a wise man. Such discourse is mere declamation ; it is against nature, contrary to truth, and makes no impres- sion at all. Let all the value b.e set iipon wealth and temporal possessions wh^ck 26J. SERMON XIV. they deserve, as affording a defence from many evils to which poverty is liable ; as ministering to the convenience, the conso- lation, and the enjoyment of life ; as sup- porting a station with decency and digni- ty in the world ; and as accompanied with an importance, by which a good man may find much pleasure arising to himself, and have the power of doing much good to his fellow-creatures ; let all the value which reason allows, be set upon temporal acqui- sitions and enjoyments, still they are infe- rior to those of an intellectual and moral kind ; still the maxim remains true, that he \vould be an infinite loser who should gain the whole world and lose his own soul. *' Thou hast put more gladness into m.y ** heart," saith the Psalmist, " than world- ** ly men know, when their corn, and their '* wine, and their oil abound." And do not your own feeling and experience bear witness to this truth ? Who will not ac- knowledge that there is more excellence in wisdom, thap in mere animal strength? Who will not own that there is more hap- piness in the improving conversation of the wise, than in the tumultuous uproar of the SERMON XIV. 265 debauched and licentious ? Are the rays of light as pleasant to the eye as the radia- tions of truth to the mind ? Have sensual gratifications a charm for the soul, equal to intellectual and moral joys ? While the former soon pall upon the appetite, are not the latter a perpetual feast ? While the remembrance of the one is attended with no pleasure, is not the remembrance of the other a repetition of the enjoy- ment ? But great as the dignity of the human soul is, it may be still greater ; for, in the second place, it possesses a capacity of im- provement. This constitutes one essential difference between the intellectual and the material world. All material things soon reach the end of their progress, and ar- rive at a point beyond which they can- not go. Instinct grows apace, and the animal is soon complete in all its facul- ties and powers. Man ripens more slowly, because he ripens for immortality. Those enjoyments and pursuits of man also, which do not belong to him as an immor- tal being, come soon to their period. A- 2j66 . SERMON XfV. musement, when continued long, becomes a fatigue. In pleasure there is a point, beyond which, if it be carried, it is plea- sure no more, it turns into pain. The pursuits of greatness, too, are very limited, and the race of honour is soon run. Af- ter many a weary step, the votary of am- bition finds that he has been running in a circle, and that he is come to the self-same point from which he set out. Mind, mind alone, contains in itself the principle of progression and improvement without end. There is no ultimate power in the progress of man : there is no termination to the career of an immortal spirit. The do- minions of earthly greatness are circum- scribed within narrow limits, and the hero has often washed for new countries to con- quer s but the empire of the mind has no limit nor boundary ; and we can never ar- rive at that period, when we may say, hitherto can we go, but no farther. Ne- ver have we learned so much, but we may learn more. Suppose life never so long, if the powers remain, new paths to science may be struck out, fresh accessions of know- ledge may be made. And we know from SERMON XIY. 267 -experience, that the largest measure of knowledge proves no burden to the mind, nor weakens its powers ; but that, on the contrary, the capacity enlarges with the acquisition, and that men, the more they have learned, the more apt they are to learn ; the less is their labour, and the easier their progress. Improvements in goodness keep pace with improvements in wisdom. Repeated .acts of obedience grow into habit ; the pe- nitent is confirmed in righteousness, and he that is holy becomes holier still. From the fulness which is in God, he adds grace to grace. The day of small things shineth more and more, and that day is succeeded by no night. The pilgrims, who at first set out feeble and faint, grow vigorous as they advance, going forward from strength to strength ; ascending from one degree of goodness to another, they approach the everlasting hills, and, coming within tlie sphere of heaven, they inhale the spirit of their native region, they feel the attrac- tions of the uncreated beauty, they receive a foretaste of the fruits of life, and, with 268 SERMON XIV. hearts already full of heaven, and with tongues already tuned to the songs above, they put on the brightness of angels, and enter into the mansions of paradise. In the third place, the value of the soul v/ill farther appear, if we consider that it is immortal. All human things soon come to an end. Temporal possessions, and earthly greatness, have a short date. The world itself is for ever changing ; the fa- shion thereof passes away, and he who knows it in one age, in the next would not know it again. How short lived are the enjoyments of this mortal state ! Although the flowers of transient joy, more hardy than the gourd of Jonah, may outlive the heat of the morning, and glow amid the blaze of noon, yet when the blast of even- ing comes, they are nipt and wither away. Ambition too has its day, and often a short one. Its votaries seem to be raised, but the more sensibly to feel their fall. The same whirlwind that snatches them up from the crowd, brings them down at even with tenfold fury. Not to mention these more violent revolutions, its natural SERMON XIV. 269 period soon comes. He who runs the race of human glory, is lost m the very dust that is raised around him. And such is the sudden end of all terrestrial enjoyments , when, after the study and the labour of years, we have with much pains and care gathered together the requisites and mate- rials of a happy life, and say to ourselves, *' Soul, take thine ease, thou hast goods " laid up for many years," the warning voice is heard, " Thou fool, this night thy *' soul shall be required of thee." So tran- sient is the date, so short the day of power, and pleasure^ and greatness ! But wisdom never dies ; but virtue is immortal. We have a higher life than that which beats in the pulse, and when the dust returns to the dust as it was, the spirit returns to God who gave it. It is indeed an awful though a pleasing thought, that we have an eternity before us. When the sun shall be extinguished in eternal darkness ; when the heavens shall be rolled together like a scroll ; when the earth, with all its works shall be dissolved, the soul shall survive the general wreck, and exult in the enjoy- ment of youth immortal ! To think of aji STO SERMON XIV. infinity of years of existence, enduring be- yond all the numbers which we can add to- gether, beyond all the millions of ages which figures can comprehend and that, when all this vast sum of duration is expended, our existence is but just beginning, is, in- deed, beyond imagination to grasp. Never to come to an end, never to be nearer an end, is indeed amazing, overwhelming, and incomprehensible to the mind. But such is thine inheritance, O man ! " Because I '* live," saith the Lord, " ye shall live al- *' so." Our duration shall be coeval with His years who. sits upon the Throne for ever ; the Ancient of days, who is, and was, and is to come. In the hit place, to shew you the value of the soul still more, after death its state is unalterable. This is our state of proba- tion, and now is the time to fix the cha- racter for eternity. This is the spring-time of everlasting life ; according as we now sow, hereafter we shall reap ; on our pre- sent conduct, depends our happiness or mi- sery for ever. There is neither repentance nor apostacy beyond the grave. The SERMON XIV. 271 righteous can never fall away, and to the wicked there remaineth no more sacrifice for sin. From the judgment-seat of the Immutable, the voi-ce is heard, " He that *' is righteous, let him be righteous still ; " and he that is unjust, let him be unjust '' still." But even here, too, appears that good- ness of God which is over all his works. For while we know not of any addition to the torments of the wicked, the happiness of the righteous shall be for ever on the increase. That capacity of improvement which WQ formerly ascribed to the soul, is a capacity of improvement without end. The progress which begins here, is carried on hereafter. Heaven is indeed the resi- dence of the spirits of just men made per- fect ; but it is not to be imagined, that they are all at once advanced to a perfec- tion which they shall not to eternity ex- ceed. They will indeed find their state happy, wdien they are taken from this w^orld ; they will all be presented w^ithout spot or blemish in the presence of God with ex(5eeding joy ; but still there is room 272 SERMON XIV, left for their improvement in perfection and happiness. It cannot, iiadeed, be otherwise. For the more we know of the Divine perfections and works, our venera- tion and love of God will increase the more. Now, it is impossible that we can ever know so much of God, and his works, but that we may know more. As our know- ledge of God, therefore, and our views of the Divine glory, will be enlarged without end, our love and admiration of him will also increase for ever. And in proportion to our love, our assimilation to the Divine nature, and our joy in the Lord, will be. What a prospect, O Christian, does this open up to thy mind ! Here thou art at li- berty to expatiate at large ! Here is a noble field for thy contemplation ! There is a time appointed when thou shalt occupy that station which is now occupied by the highest angel in heaven. Not that we shall overtake the angels in their course, or, in the career of immortality, press upon na- tures of a superior order ; but that we shall make advances in moral perfections, and improve in the beauties of immortality. God shall behold his great family for ever SERMON XIV. 273 brightening in holiness; for ever drawing nearer and nearer in likeness to himself. The river of their pleasures increases as it rolls. The fulness of their joy grows more and more fuH. Throughout all the ages of eternity, there is still a heaven which is to come 'y still a glory which is to be revealed. If the soul then be of such infinite value, how inexpressibly great must the loss of it be ! Over the mansions of utter darkness, the Scriptures draw a veil which does not authorize our conjectures. What is com- prehended under these awful emblems, the worm that never dies, the fire that is not quenched, everlasting destruction from the presence of the Lord, and the glory of his power, we do not know. May the Almighty forbid, that any of us should ever know ! Bitt of this, the Scriptures assure us, that from these mansions there is no return ; that the gates of the eternal world shut to open no more, and that when the soul is once lost^ it is lost for ever and for ever ! Vol. L SERMON XV. Psalm xliii, 4. / will go unto the altar of God, unto God my ex- ceeding joy. >^HRisTiANS,as we are next Lord's day to ^^ go to the altar, and approach vinto God, it may be proper for me now to explain the nature, and set before you the advant- ages of such an approach. The pleasures of devotion have been the theme of good men in all ages ; and they are pleasures of such a kind as good men only can feel. In what I am now to say, therefore, I must appeal to the heart, to the hearts of those who, in times past, S2 276 SERMON XV. have felt the joy of spiritual communion, and who will again feel that it is good still for them to draw nigh unto God. This is the time when Jesus prepares a banquet for his friends ; when the Spirit saith, Come ; when the church saith. Come; when he that is athirst is invited to come ; and happy will it be when the friends of Jesus prepare to meet with their Lord, if those who have hitherto been strangers to the holy hill, shall be attracted with the beauty which is in true holiness, also to come, and to take the waters of life freely. For thus runs the gracious promise of Hea- ven : *' The strangers who join themselves '* to the Lord, to love him and to serve '* him, even them will I bring to my holy ** mountain, and make them joyful in my ** house of prayei'." In further treating on this subject, what I intend at present, is, in the first place, to explain the nature of that approach which the devout make to God ; and, in the second place, set before you the advantages which accompany siuch an approach. SERMON XV. 277 I am, in xhtfrst place, then, to explain the nature of that approach which the de- vout make to God. This earth is not the native region of that spirit which is in man. It finds not objects here congenial with its nature, nor a sphere adequate to its faculties. It wants room to expand to its full dimensions ; to spread so wide, and stretch so far, and soar so high, as its immortal nature and un- bounded capacity will admit. Descended from heaven, it aspires to heaven again. Created immortal, nothing that is mortal can satisfy its desires. Made after the image of God, it tends to that God whose lineaments it still bears. When we ap- proach to God, therefore, we find objects suited to our natmx, and engage in the employment for which the soul was made. Here we are at home in our Father's hoiise. Here our spirits aspire to hold communion with the everlasting Spirit; and we tend to heaven with exceeding joy, as to our na- tive coiuitry. 278 SERMON XV. The sense of Deity is akin to the percep- tion of beauty, and the sensibility of taste. We are formed by the Author of our na- ture to feel certain movements of mind at the sight of certain objects. Even inani- mate things are not v^ithout their attrac- tions. The flov^ers of the field have their beauty. Animal life rises in our regard. Rational excellence, and moral perfection, rank still higher in our esteem, and when expressed in action, and appearing in life, awake emotions of the noblest kind, and beget a pleasure which is supreme. Let any person of a right constituted mind, place before his view a character of high eminence for generosity, fidelity, fortitude ; let him see these virtues tried to the iitmost, exerted in painful struggles, overcoming difficulties, and conquering in a glorious cause, and he will feel their effects in his admiring mind : he will be actuated with respect and love to such illustrious virtues. We account that faculty of the mind which gives us a relish for these pleasures, a per- fection in our nature, and a high one ; we look upon an insensibility to such enjoy- SERMON XV. 279 ments as a radical defect. Let us apply this principle to religion. Who can be- hold the vastness and magnificence of the works of God without emotion ; and infi- nite perfection without wonder and awe ? Can our thoughts be fixed upon infinite goodness and everlasting love, without af- fection, and without gratitude ? Can we be- hold Divinity in a form of flesh ; the Son of God extended on the cross for the salva- tion of the world, and our hearts not burn within us with love to him who loved us unto the death ? Can we behold the veil drawn aside from the invisible world, the heavens opened over our head, and the treasures of eternity displayed to view, and after all continue cold and dead ; cold to the beauty of the heavens, dead to the love of immortality ? Where there is any sen- sibility at all, where there are any af- fections that become humanity, they will be excited to their most lively exercise by the presence of spiritual and divine things. Under the influence of these objects, and the impression of Deity, the devout enter 280 SERMON-XV. into their chamber and shut the door ; they turn aside their eyes from beholding vani- ty ; they charge their passions to be silent, their minds to be still ; and pour out their hearts to Him who made them, in all the fervency of prayer. Thus prepared to seek the Lord God of their fathers, they come to his temple to meet with him there. They are seized with a religious awe in the pre- sence of the sanctuary, and approach to the altar wondering and adoring, as Moses to the burning bush, and as the High Priest of old to the holy of holies. They look be- yond the externals of a sacrament, and, un- der the symbols in the communion, they discern the mysteries of redeeming love. Notwithstanding the veil with which a greater than Moses covers himself on this holy mountain, they behold his beauty, and cannot bear the brightness of his counte- nance. When they sit down with him at his table, they are sensible of his presence : While their hands receive the sacred sym- bols, their eyes behold the Lord of Glory. In the spirit of devotion, and on the wings of faith, they rise from earth to heaven ; SERMON XV, 281 tliey pierce beyond the clouds, and enter within the veil. The everlasting doors are thrown open ; the King of Glory appears upon his throne ; Angels and Archangels cover themselves with their wings, and all the pillars of the firmament tremble. But not to heaven is the Divinity con- fined. He fills the earth ; he dwells with men. Look around you, and behold the marks of his presence, and the impression of his hand. In the gay and lovely scenes of nature, behold him in his beauty smiling on his works. In the grand and awful objects of creation, in the tempest, in the thunder, in the earthquake, behold him in the Majesty of Omnipotence. When, like the prophet who retired to the wilder- ness, you hear that voice which rends a- sunder the mountains, which breaks in pieces the rocks, and which shakes the pillars of the world, you hear behind it a still small voice, saying, ** It is I, be not *' afraid." Thus, good iVien see the Creator in his works ; they have the Lord always before 2S2 SERMON XV. them. They know where they can find him, and can come nigh to his seat. They go forward, and he is there, backward, and they perceive his footsteps ; on the right hand his wonders are seen ; on the left his goodness is felt. They cannot go but where he is. The Great Universe is the temple of the Deity, built by his hand, consecrated by his presence, bright with his glory. The second thing proposed, was, to set before you the advantages which accom- pany this solemn approach to God, which are the following : There is honour in ap- proaching to God, there is joy in approach- ing to God, there is consolation in ap- proaching to God, there is preparation for heaven in approaching to God. Firsts then, there is honour in approach- ing to God. The superiority of man to the animal world has been inferred from the structure and formation of his body. While the inferior animals, prone and gro- velling, bend downwards to that earth which is their only element, man is form- SERMON XV. os^ ed with an erect figure, and with a coun- tenance that looks to the heavens. His erect figure is given as the indication of an elevated mind, and the countenance that looks to the heavens is bestowed, in order to prepare us for the contemplation of what is great and glorious. With this forma- tion of body, and with this tendency of mind, man feels that the earth is not his native region ; he looks abroad over the whole extent of nature ; he has an eye that glances from earth to heaven, and a mind which, unconfined by space or time, seizes on eternity. The eye that glances from earth to heaven, the mind which seizes on eternity, draw the line between the intellectual and animal world. The beast of the field, indeed, beholds the face of the heavens ; the bird of the air is cheered with the splendour of the sun ; but man alone has the intellectual eye, which beholds in the heavens the handi- work of Omnipotence, and which traces in the sun the glory of its Creator. To him, high-favoured of his Maker, a scene opens, nnseen by the eye of sense ; a new heaven and a new earth present them- 284 SERMON XV. selves ; the intellectual world discloses its rising wonders, and, seen by his own light, in the majesty of moral perfection, God appears. It was reserved to be the glory of man, that he alone, of all the inhabit- ants of this lower world, should be admit- ted into the presence of his Creator, and hold intercourse with the Author of his being. Accordingly, in the happy days of the human race, when the age of innocence lasted, and the Garden of Eden bloom- ed, there was an intercourse between hea- ven and earth, and God did dwell with man. Our first parents in Paradise were sensible of his presence ; they heard his voice among the trees of the garden ; they held converse with him face to face, and found that the chief honoui' of their na- ture consisted in drawing nigh to God. Nay, it is the happiness of higher natures, it is the glory of superior beings, of the principalities and powers in heaven, to dwell in the presence of their King, to wor- ship at the throne of infinite perfection, and draw nearer and nearer to the foun- tain of all felicity. But this honour have SERMON XV. 285 all the saints. To thee, O Christian ! it is given to hold communion with the Crea- tor, and to become the friend of the Al- mighty. Truly your fellowship is with the Father, and his Son Jesus Christ. If it be great and honourable to be near the person and round the throne of an earthly king, how truly glorious are they whom the King of heaven delighteth to honour I No w^onder then, that though exalted to the highest dignity which the world can bestow, the king of Israel w^as ambitious of higher still : " 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." Seco?idly, there is joy in approaching to God. " I w^ill go to the altar of God, to *' God my exceeding joy." The idea of a perfect being is the most joyful subject of contemplation that can be presented to man. Moral qualities, even when they shine in a lesser degree, have a charm for the soul. The prospect of natural beauty is not more pleasant to the eye, than the 2S6 SERMON XV. contemplation of moral beauty to the mind. A great and good action, a striking instance of benevolence, of public spirit, of magnanimity, interests us strongly in behalf of the performer, and makes the heart glow with gra.titude to him, although he be unknown. We take delight in pla- cing before our eyes the illustrious cha- racters that stand forth in history, wdse legislators, unshaken patriots, public be- nefactors of mankind, or models of good- ness in private life, whose virtues shone to the past, and shine to present times, whose lives were glorious to themselves, and beneficial to the world. If an imper- fect copy gives so much satisfaction, how will we be affected at the contemplation of the great Original ? If a few faint traces and lineaments of goodness, scattered up and down, yield us so much pleasure, the pleasure will be supreme, when we con- template His nature in whom every excel- lence, every moral perfection, all Divine attributes, reside as in their native seat, flow as from their eternal source, and ever operate as vital and immortal principles, for aU created beauty is but a shadow of SERMON XV. s$7 that beauty which is uncreated ; all hu- man excellence but an emanation of that excellence which is Divine ; all finite per- fection but a faint copy of perfections which are infinite ; and all the traces of goodness to be found among men or an- gels, but a few faint rays from the Father of lights, the uncreated, unclouded, and unsetting Sun of nature, who at first gave life to the universe, who kindled the vital flame which is still glowing, who supplies all the orbs of heaven with undiminished lustre, and whose single smile spreads joy over the moral world. Thus, the very idea of a perfect Being is a source of high pleasure to the mind ; but to us there is more implied in the idea of the Deity. For these perfections are not dormant in the Divine nature ; they are perpetually employed for the happiness of man. This glorious Being is our Father and our Friend. He called us into being at first, to make us happy ; he hath given us many proofs of his goodness, and he liath allowed us to hope for more. He is soon to give us aa opportunity of com- 288 SERMON XV. memorating the most signal display of his grace, his noblest gift to the children of men. And, if he spared not his own Son, but freely gave him up to the death for us all, may it not be depended upon, that with him he will give us all things ? En- tering into these ideas, and animated with this spirit, the pious man is never so much in his element, as when he is drawing nigh to God. The mind never makes nobler exertions, is never so conscious of its na- tive grandeur and ancient dignity, as when holding high converse with its Creator: The heart never feels such unspeakable peace, as when it is fixed upon him who made it, as when its affections go out on the supreme beauty, as when it rests upon the Rock of ages, and is held within the circle of the everlasting arms. Hence, the good men of old, in ap- proaching to God, broke forth into the language of rapture, " As the hart pant- *' eth after the water-brook, so panteth *' my soul after thee, O Lord. O God, '' thou art my God, early will I seek thee. ** My soul thirsteth for thee. My flesh SERMON XV. 289 " longeth for thee in a dry and parched ** land, wherein no water is; that I may see " thy glory as I have seen it in the sanctu- ** ary. Because thy loving kindness is bet- " ter than life, my mouth shall praise thee *' with joyful lips. Surely we shall be sa- " tisfied with the goodness of thy house, ** and thou wilt give us to drink the river " of thy pleasures. — Whom have we in the *' heavens but thee, and what is there upon '^ the earth that we can desire beside thee ? *' My flesh and heart shall fail, but thou " art the strength of my heart, and my portion for ever," a Thirdly^ There is consolation in approach- ing to God, Alas ! in this world, afflictions so abound, that consolation is often our greatest good. In how few days of this mortal life do we not feel the want of a comforter ? Ever since the introduction of sin into the earth, human life hath been a scene of misery. Man is born to trouble, and sore is the travel which is appointed to him under the sun. We come into the world the most forlorn of all beings ; the voice of sorrow is heard from the birth y Vol. I. T 290 SERMON XV. man sighs on through every path of future hfe, and the grave is the only place of re- fuge, v^here the weary are at rest. Some- times, indeed, a gleam of joy intervenes, an interval of happiness takes place. Fond man indulges the favourable hour. Then we promise to ourselves the scenes of para- dise ; perpetual sun-shine, and days withr out a cloud. But the brightness only shines to disappear ; the cloud comes again, and we awake to our wonted anxiety and sor- row. Not limited to our own personal woes, we are doomed to sujffer for sorrows not our own. We are not unconcerned spec- tators of human life. We are interested in every event that befals ovir fellow men. Sympathay makes us feel the distresses of others ; and the best affections of the heart become the sources of woe. How many deaths do we suffer in mourning over the friends that we have lost ! While we la- ment their unhappy or untimely fate, we cut short the thread of our own days. The chords of love are broken,one after another; string after string is severed from the SERMON XV. 291 heart, till all our early attachments are dis- solved, till our sad eyes have wept over every friend laid in the dust, and till v/e become lonely and wretched as we at first began. Under these aiBictions, and from these sorrows, devotion opens a retreat ; the al- tar of God presents a place of refuge ; the ear of the Eternal is open to thy cry ; the arm of the Almighty is stretched out to relieve thee. There is a sanctviary where no evil can approach, there is an asylum where no enemy can enter. In the pavilion of his presence, God will hide thee in the time of trouble ; in the secret of his taber- nacle, he will cover thee in the day of dan- ger. There the prisoners rest in peace, and hear not the voice of the oppressor. There are the small and the great, and the serv- ant is free from his master. There the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest. It is some consolation, it is some relief, to open our hearts to men, and tell our sorrows to a friend, who can give us no re- T2 292 SERMON XV. lief, but by mingling his tears with ours. What consolation, what relief will it then give to open our hearts, and tell oui' sor- rows to that Friend above, who is ever gracious to hear, and ever mighty to save ! To that Friend who never fails ; who is af- flicted in all our afllictions, and who keeps ns as the apple of his eye ! Art thou there- fore oppressed with the calamities of life ; is thy head bowed down with affliction, or thy heart broken with sorrow ? Approach to the altar, go to God, present to him the prayer of thy heart, and he will send thee help from his holy hill. Lastly^ In approaching to God, there is preparation for heaven. The objects among Vvrhich we are conversant, have a wonder- ful power over the mind. External things make such an impression within, that the character is often formed from the situa- tion. The soul is assimilated to surround- ing objects, and proportions itself to the sphere in which it moves. When employ- ed in little and in low things, it is con- tracted ; when occupied in earthly matters, it is debased ; but acquires enlargement SERMON XV. 293 and elevation, in the presence of what is grand and subHme. By daily converse with the world, and familiarity with ma- terial things, the soul is alienated from the life of God, and man, setting his affections on things below, becomes of the earth, earthy. But v/hen we engage in the exer- cises of devotion, we counterwork the charm of material objects, we retire from the world and its temptations, and shut the door of the heart against every intruding guest, that would disturb us in approach- ing to God. Standing upon holy ground, we put off unhallowed affections, and im- pure desires. From the presence of the Lord every sinful thought flies away. Our attention is turned from those things that w^ould raise guilty passions in the mind. Pure and spiritual ideas are presented to view, and the perfections of Almighty God are set before our eyes. When these are before us, our admiration of them will in- crease, our love to them will be kindled, and we will endeavour to resemble them in our own life. Thus, by approaching to God, we become like God. By devotion on earth, we anticipate the work of hea- 294 SERMON XV, veil. We join ourselves, beforehand, to the society of angels and blessed spirits above ; v^c already enter on the delightful employment of eternity, and begin the song which is heard for ever around the throne of God. Such, Christians ! arc the advantages of approaching to God, and encompassing the altar. And if, with pious affections, and a piu^e heart, w^e draw nigh unto God, God will draw nigh unto us. To the wide extent of his creation, to the great temple of heaven and earth, Jehovah prefers the heart of the pure and the pious. There he takes up his abode ; there he delighteth to dwell. In the divine discourse which our Lord delivered to his disciples, the same night in which he was betrayed, there is a promise rich in consolation. *' If *' a man love me, he will keep my words : " and my Father will love him, and we will *' come and make our abode with him.'* While this promise sounds in your cars, I hope that your hearts correspond to the strain, and that you recal those precious hours, when God manifested himself to SERMON XV. 295 you, so as he does not unto the world. When, on former occasions, he sent his light and his trvith ; when the fountain of living waters has been opened, and the voice came to your ears, '* Drink, and live " for ever ;" did you not feel emotions which came from no created source, and taste a joy which confessed its origin from heaven ? Who can describe the blessedness of that time, when a present Deity is felt ? It is the joy of heaven upon earth; the hap- piness of eternity in the moments of time. CELEBRATION of the SACRAMENT op the LORD'S SUPPER. [The Sacrament of the Lord's Supper is celebrated in Scotland always upon a Sunday, in the parish church ; and in most places, once only in the year. There is no particular Sunday fixed for this solemnity. On the Thursday and Saturday before it, and on the Monday after it, there is public worship ; and sermons are preach- ed upon subjects suitable to the occasion. The Thursday is particularly set apart for solemn fasting; and no la- bour is that day permitted in the parish. The greater part of persons of all ranks in the parish, who have ar- rived at the years of discretion, join in celebrating this Ordinance, which, partly from this cause, and partly from its taking place but once or twice a-year, is per- formed in a manner that is very solemn and devout. The Service begins with the singing of a Psalm ; which the Minister reads out immediately upon ascending the pulpit. The choice of the Psalms is, in all cases, at the Minister's discretion ; and to give the Sacramental Service more completely, some portions, which are often sung on such occasions, are inserted here, in their places. The music is entirely vocal. In a few Congregations} there is music in parts ; but in general, the whole Con- gregation sing in unison. The Psalm tunes are set to slow time : the melody is simple, grave, and often very Effecting.] ^9S LORD^s SUPPER. MORNING SERVICE. Psalm Ixv. TpRAisE waits for thee in Zion, Lord^ ■^ to thee vows paid shall be. O thou that hearer art of pray'r, all flesh shall come to thee. Iniquities, I must confess, prevail against me do ; But as for our transgressions, them purge away shalt thou. Blest is the man whom thou dost choose, and mak'st approach to thee, That he within thy courts, O Lord, may still a dweller be : We surely shall be satisfy 'd with thy abundant grace. And with the goodness of thy house, ev'n of thy holy place. MORNING SERVICE. 299 PRAYER, [In the Worship of the Scottish Church, the whole Congregation rise from their seats at the beginning of the prayer, and stand in a devout posture till it be con- cluded.] " Lord God Almighty ! Which was, which is, and which art to come ! Thou art the King eternal, immortal, invisible, the only wise God. All perfections adorn thy nature : Every attribute of Majesty supports thy Throne. The heavens are thine; thou hast made them bright with thy glory : The earth also is thine ; thou art the Lord of universal nature. Thou dwellest in that imcreated light, which mortal eye hath not seen, nor can see. Thousands of angels and of blessed spi- rits stand before thee : Ten thousand times ten thousand, minister in thy presence, and perform thy pleasure. The whole host of heaven worshippeth thee. SOO LORD'S SUPPER. " Thou hast formed the mountains, and created the wind. With thee are the trea- sures of the snow, and the chambers of the hail. Thou makest thy pavilion in the dark cloud : Thou sittest on the multitude of waters : Thou walkest on the wings of the wind ; and thy voice in the storm makes the nations adore. The sons of men, generation after generation, return to the dust from whence they were taken. The heavens which we behold shall vanish like the cloud which covers them ; the earth which w^e inhabit, shall dissolve like the snows upon its surface ; but independ- ent of change, of the revolutions of time, and of the fate of worlds, thou continues t the same, immortal, unalterable, the An- cient of days, from everlasting to everlast- ing God. " Thou hast given commission unto all thy works, to declare their Maker. The light of heaven reveals to our eyes thine existence : Our ears hear the voice of uni- versal nature proclaiming the Providence which sustains what it made. Thou walk- est in the circle of the universe. Thy foot- MORNING SERVICE. 501 steps are everywhere seen ; Thyself, the invisible God. How powerful is that arm which supports the pillars of the firma- ment, and keeps the wheels of nature in perpetual motion ! Plow unsearchable that wisdom, ¥7hich, from the first of time, has conducted all nature ? How boundless that goodness which supplieth the wants of the whole creation ! How precious are thy thoughts of grace to the children of men ? " Thine is the power and the victory and the majesty. Whatsoever pleaseth thee, that thou dost in the heavens and in the earth, and in the sea, and in all deep places. Thou weighest the mountains in scales ; thou takest up the isles as the dust of the balance ; the nations are as the drop of the bucket before thee. At thine altar, Lebanon is not sufficient to burn ; nor the cattle upon a thousand hills, to be a burnt- offering. *' Thou inhabitest time and eternity, and the praises of Israel. Thy goings forth hath been of old ; thy love to the 302 LORD'S SUPPER. human race before the birth of time. Be- fore the mountains were brought forth, when no deep arose from beneath, and no fountains abounded with w^ater, even then were we present to thy mind. Thou didst rejoice in the earth that was to be inhabit- ed, and thy dehghts were with the children of men. We thank thee for the rank thou hast assigned us in thy ^creation. Thou hast given us a portion of thine own Hght ; thou hast opened to us the source of in- tellectual joy, and hast made us capable of becoming fit for heaven, and like unto thee. Above all, we rejoice in Jesus Christ, who redeemed us from death, and washed away our ains in his own blood. " As we now come before thee to com- memorate the sacrifice of the Lamb which was slain from the foundation of the world, we recal with joy what ancient days be- held, and the wonders thou didst work of old. To the fathers thy presence ap- peared, and to the prophets, thine inspira- tion was given. On mount Sinai thou didst descend to give the law ; by types and figures thou didst shadow forth good MORNING SERVICE. so3 things which were to come. In these last days thou hast spoken unto us by thy Son. Thou hast performed thy holy covenant, and raised up an horn of salvation for us in the house of thy servant David. Our souls do magnify the Lord ; our spirits now rejoice in God our Saviour ! " But whilst we adore thy goodness and mercy, we lament ovir own unworthiness and guilt. We are less than the least of all thy mercies. We are transgressors from the birth. We are unworthy to lift up our eyes to the place where thine honour dwell- eth. Thou whose pure eye decerns dark- ness in the sun, and charges thine angels with folly, thou beholdest the multitude of our iniquities. We have sinned, and what shall we answer unto thee, O thou who triest the heart ! We have neglected the good which it was in our power to per- form, and done the evil from which we should have abstained. Deaf to the voice of wisdom we have turned aside unto fol- ly ; forgetting heaven and immortality, wc have set our affections upon the earth ; we have looked up to the fashion cf the world 304 LORD'S SUPPER. rather than to thy laws. Alas ! when we consider what we might have been ; when we think upon the talents that we have abused, the means of improvement that we have neglected, the opportunities of doing good that we have lost ; when we reflect how long it was before we began to form a serious thought ; we tremble at the foot- tool of thy justice. ** We confess our sins to thee, O Lord ! Our iniquities are now before us. Thou who knowest the heart ; thou knowest the sorrow of our souls. Trampling upon conscience, undervaluing the joys of hea- ven, and braving the pains of hell, we have surrendered ourselves to delusions, which, under the colour of good, have left us to misery and remorse. We have turned our glory into shame ; we have de- faced thine image, and the lineaments of heaven. Woe unto us : for we have sin- ned. Every way have we sinned ; ungrate- ful for mercies bestowed ; insensible of blessings promised ; impatient under the smallest evils ; provoking the friend who loves us ! Our condemnation is aggravated, MORNING SERVICE. 305 when we think against whom we have sin- ned ! Hadst thou been a hard master, less had been our crime, and less had been our sorrow ; but we have offended against the most indulgent goodness, against the ten- derest mercy, against the fondest love. *' O thou ! who madest us, have mercy upon us. O thou ! who redeemest us, lift vip again the light of thy countenance. God of infinite perfection, we humble ourselves before thee in the dust ! Suppliant at thy throne, we plead for mercy. In the me- ritorious life, in the atoning death, in the prevalent intercession, of our great High Priest, we place our claims for life, and our hopes of salvation. Hide not thy face, O God ! Shut not thine ears against the pray- er of the miserable. Shine forth in our re- demption, and let thy glory appear in sav- ing thy people from their sins. '* By thy goodness which created the world, by thy tender mercies which are over all thy works, by the love which mov- ed thee to redeem mankind by the death of thine own son, — save us we beseech thee ; Vol. I. U 306 LORD'S SUPPER. save us, O God ! from our sins. Have mer- cy upon us, O Lord ! O Lord ! have mercy upon us ! ** See, O Father! the tears of thy children. Weary and heavy laden with sin, we come unto thee, O blessed Jesus ! that we may find rest unto our souls. At thy feet, great Patron and Protector of the human race, we lay ourselves, and pray for mercy and salvation. We come again unto thy altar, to seal our vows of new obedience. *^ ^Vliy are our hearts cast down, and our spirits disquieted within us ? Thou art mighty to save ; we still hope in thee ; our fathers trusted in thee, and they were not deceived. Whom have we in heaven but thee ? When thou standest at the door and knockest, may it be the voice of x)ur hearts, Come in thovi beloved ! to sit with us and to bless us ! Clothe us w^ith the garments of salvation ; let thy banner over vis be love. *' Father of all ! God of our Israel, bend now the heavens, and come down this MORNING SERVICE. 307 day to thy holy mountain. O send forth thy light and thy truth. Lead us by the green pastures. May the dews descend, and the blessings be poured down. Here, take up the place of thy rest ; here, com- mand the blessing, life for evermore. Up- hold our goings in the paths of righteous- ness, and perfect within us thy good work unto eternal life, " And now, what wait we for, O our Father in heaven ! Manifest now thyself unto us we most fervently beseech thee. May we see thee as thou hast been seen heretofore in thy holy place. Go up with us, O our God, this day ui^to thy holy mountain; and make us joyful in thy house of prayer. " Now, to the Father, and to the Son, and to the Holy Spirit, be praise for ever and for ever ! AmenT v^ MORNING, OR ACTION SERMON, Luke xxii, 44. And being in agony. — T^HE agony of our Lord in the garden, and his complaints upon the cross, are the most extraordinary parts of his hfe. A dread of those sufferings which he was to undergo, appears to have made a strong impression upon his mind. Forebodings of them frequently disturbed his repose, and overwhelmed his spirits. Many days be- fore his passion, he cried out, '' Now am *' I troubled, and what shall I say ? Father *' save me from this hour." It was pro- bably with a view to console his mind in such a dejected state, that he was transfi- gured ; that he re-assumed the glory which he had with the Father before the founda- U3 510 LORD'S SUPPER. tion of the world, and was favoured with the presence of Moses and Elias from the mansions of immortahty ; for, as we are informed by the EvangeUst, they talked of that decease which he was to accomplish at Jerusalem. Magnanimity in all its exertions was a conspicuous part of his character. He who walked upon the water, wdio slept in tranquillity amid the storm, and who encountered the foe of mankind in the de- sert, cannot be accused of a defect in cou- rage. When a band of soldiers, with Judas at their head, came to apprehend him and inquired for Jesus of Nazareth, he said un- to them, '' I am he ;" and by the dignity of his demeanour, struck them with awe. When he was accused by the chief priests and elders before the judgment-seat of Pi- late, with that majestic silence which is sometimes the best expression of fortitude, he answered not a word. Nay, when he underwent the severest of his bodily suf- ferings upon the cross, he endured them with a tranquiUity, a firmness and mag- nanimity, which display a mind truly great and undaunted. How, therefore, on some other occasions, his spirit was overwhelm- MORNING SERVICE. Sit ed, is a subject worthy of our inquiry at all times. More particularly on this day, when we have assembled together to renew the memorial of his death upon the cross ^ and to recal the remembrance of all his sufferings. In further discoursing upon this subject, I shall, in tht^rst place, set before you the account which is given of his sufferings ; and, secondly^ endeavour to assign the causes of them. In lYiCjirst place, I am to set before you the account which is given of his sufferings. That night in which he was betrayed, the Saviour of the word went into the gar- den of Gethsemane, and ascendent the mour« tain of Olives, as he was wont to do. This had been his accustomed retreat from the world ; here was the hallowed ground to which he retired for prayer and contem- plation ; here he had often spent the night in intercourse with heaven. He was ac- companied by Peter, James, and John, the very same disciples who had been the wit- 312 LORD'S SUPPER. nesses of his glorious transfiguration, when Moses and Eiias had appeared to him, and a voice had come from the overshadowing cloud, '" This is my beloved Son, in whom " I am well pleased." What a different scene now presented itself ! the rays of glo- ry shone no more ; the Divine presence was withdrawn ; the voice from heaven ceased ; that time was now come, which is so emphatically called the hour and ponjoer qf darkness. He had lately partaken of the passover Vvith his disciples ; that passover which, with so much earnestness, he had desired to eat ; he had instituted the holy sacrament of the supper ; he had delivered those di- vine discourses recorded in the Gospel of John ; he had warned them against desert- ing him in the hour of temptation ; he had selected three of them to attend him in his sorrows : nevertheless, even these three thus favoured, thus honoured, thus warn- ed, forgat all that had been said and done, and unconcerned sunk into sleep. He was left alone to endure the bitterness of that hour. MORNING SERVICE. S15 The severity of his sufferings in the gar- den, the anguish and the horror which then overwhelmed him, appear from the strong colours in which they are drawn by the sa- cred writers. They speak of his sorrow : *' My soul is exceeding sorrowful, even un- " to death." They speak of his agony, that is, the most inexpressible torment of mind : " And being in an agony.'' They speak, of his fears : *' He was heard in that ** he feared." They speak of his cries and his tears : " He offered up prayers and sup- *' plications with strong crying and tears." They speak of the prodigious effects his agony had upon his body: " His sweat was " as it were great drops of blood." They speak of the desire he had to withdraw from his sufferings for a time : " Father, if *' it be possible, let this cup pass from me." They who are acquainted with the style of the Holy Evangelists, know how re- markable they are for simplicity of narra- tive. They make use of no oratorial arts to interest the passions of their readers, they affect no threatenings or embellishments Jf eloquence, but place the plain action before 814 LORD'S SUPPER. 0ur vifew, devoid of all ornament wliateven Historians contemporary to the events v^hich they record, and who beheld the actions which they describe, visually give free vent to their passions in relating the occurrences of their history, and enter with the zeal of parties upon the various subjects which en- gage their attention. The sacred writers, on the other hand, lay aside every thing that looks like passion or party zeal ; they relate events not like men who were inte-' rested in the facts which they describe; not like men who had acted a part in the his- tory they write ; not even with the ordin«^ ary emotion of spectators, but with all the simplicity, and conciseness, and brevity, of an evidence in a court of justice. The torments which our Saviour endured in the garden, therefore, must have been great and amazing, when the sacred writers clothe them with all the circumstances of terror, and paint them in all the colours of distress. What shall we say, then, to ac- count for this dejection which our Lord felt, and for this desire which he expressed to be saved from his sufferings ? In the or« dinary course of human affairsj an iuuo- MORNING SERVICE. si5 cent man of common fortitude, resigns himself with acquiescence to his fate ; his integrity supports him ; a good cause and a good conscience carry him onwards through life and death, undaunted and un- dismayed. Hence, many illustrious and virtuous men in the heathen world, sup- ported by the native fortitude of the human mind, poured contempt upon all the forms of death, and departed with magnanimity, and with glory. If a man who had only innocence to support him, might thus ac- quiesce in his doom, one whose sufferings were to be publicly useful, whose death was to be glorious to himself, and benefi- cial to the world, might rejoice in the midst of his sufferings, and exult in the prospect of death. In the early times of the Christian Church, the first disciples followed their Lord in a path that was marked with blood ; persons of all ranks, of all ages^ and of both sexes, braved the rage of the enemy, the sword of the persecutor, the fire of the tormentor, became candidates for the^ crown of martyrdom, and with tri- umph embraced that very form of death at 316 LORD'S SUPPER. which our Lord, to appearance, now trem- bled and stood aghast. This leads us to the second thing propos- ed^ which was to account for these appear- ances ; to assign the causes of our Lord's peculiar sufferings. In general, then, there was circumstances in the passion of our Lord, of a singular kind, fully adequate to produce the effects here mentioned. What these were, will appear when we consider that our Lord died in a state where he was abandoned by his friends, and by mankind ; that he died in a state of ignominy ; and that he died in a state, where, after suffer- ing an agony of spirit, he was at last fore- saken by his Father in heaven. While the two former of these can hardly be parallel- ed in all their circumstances, the last is en^ tirely peculiar to our Lord, and constitutes the chief branch of his sufferings. Yirst^ He died in a state where he was abandoned by his friends and by mankind. From the beginning he found the world against him. He came unto his own, and his own received him not. He was to be MORNING SERVICE. 317 made perfect through sufferings, and many were the distresses which wrung his heart, before the decease which he accomplished at Jerusalem. This was the severest of all, from the manifold terrors that were now combined together. He had not only to carry his own cross, to have his head crown- ed with thorns, to be derided and buffeted, to be extended vipon the accursed tree, to suffer the scourge, the nails, and the spear. AH this he was superior to ; but to be a- bandoned by his friends, and by all man- kind, at the very time he was suffering for their sakes, was the peculiar and forlorn fate of the Saviour of the world. The presence of our friends, in the hour of trial, gives a secret strength to the mind ; it affords a melancholy pleasure to die among those with whom we lived. But this consolation our Saviour had not. He had chosen twelve friends to be the part- ners of his life, and the companions of his death. One of these betrayed him, ano- ther denied him; all foresook him and fled. It is some relief to the unhappy sufferer, 318 LORD'S SUPPER. to have the passions of the spectators on his side ; from their sympathy he derives courage, and the pain that is felt by many, is alleviated to the one who suffers. But the high and the low, the Jew and the Hea- then, entered into the conspiracy against Christ. The priests and elders accused him. The High Priest cried out, " He is guilty '* of death." Pilate, his judge, though con- scious of his innocence, though he washed his hands from the guilt of his death, or- dered him to be scourged, and allowed him to be crucified. I'he people, with a frantic ardour, sought his death. That very people, who, a few days before, upon his triumphal entery into Jerusalem, had strewed the way with palm branches, and cried out, '* Hosanna to the Son of David," that very people, such is the giddiness of the multitude, now cried out, " Crucify ** him, crucify him." Thus, in his sor- rows, he stood by himself, a wretched indi- vidual without a friend. When the Shep- herd was smitten, the sheep were scattered abroad. He trode the wine-press alone. Of the people there were none with him. When he died for a^, he was pitied by «one* MORNING SEUVICE. sid In the second place, He died in a state of ignominy. The death of the cross was not only painful and tormenting, btit ignomi- nous also, and accursed, A death that was never inflicted upon free men, but reserv- ed for slaves and malafactors, for the basest and the vilest of the human kind. There is implanted in the mind of man a strong abhorrence of sharae and disgrace. The sense of ignominy is more pungent in a noble nature, than the feeling of pain. To want the appearance of innocence, while, at the same time, we preserve the reality ; to lie under the imputation of heinous crimes, to die the death of a criminal, and leave the world with an indelible stain up- on our name and memory, is one of the sorest trials that virtue can meet with up- on earth. Yet even this our Lord had to suffer. He had to endure the cross, and submit to the shame. It was foretold by the prophet, that he should be '^ number- *^ ed among transgressors." And although he was holy, harmless, liudefiled, and se- parate from sinners, yet he was impeached of the highest crimes : not only as a viola- tor of the Divine law, in breaking the S^b- 520 LORD'S SUPPER. bath, and frequenting the company of sin- ners, but also as an impostor, deluding the people ; as a blasphemer, assuming to him- self the prerogatives of God ; and as a se- ditious person, perverting thenation, usurp- ing royal authority, and forbidding to give tribute to Caesar. " If he had not been a " malefactor," said the Jews to Pilate, " we " should not have delivered him up to " thee." The resentment of such a situa- tion our Lord felt strongly, and discover- ed in that remarkable speech, '* Are ye " come against me as against a thief, with *' swords and with staves ?" Thus, our Lord was not only a sufferer, but in ap- pearance a criminal : he had not only to endure the pain but the ignominy of the cross ; not only to be wounded and tor- mented, but also to be mocked, revil- ed, and scorned by the vilest of man- kind. Then were fulfilled the words of the mystical Prophet, " I am a reproach *' of men, and despised of the people. All '' they that see me, laugh me to scorn : " they shoot out the lip, they shake the " head, saying, he trusted on the Lord, " that he would deliver him : let him de- MORNING SERVICE. 321 *' liver him, seeing he deUghted in him." There is not a circumstance in the history of mankind so ignominious, and to an in- genuous nature so tormenting, as the fol- lowing, which is recorded by the Evange- lists. Pilate said, *' Shall I release Jesus ? " They all cried, not this man, but Barab- '' bas. Now Barabbas was a robber." There is a misapprehension into which we are apt to fall, in considering the suf- ferings of Jesus Christ. Whenever he ap- pears before our eyes, the splendour of his Divinity overcomes the mind, and in the Lord of glory the man of sorrows is for- gotten. But, my friends, you are to re- member that as God is by his nature in- capable of pain or sorrow, in all scenes of distress, the Divhiity withdrew, that the Hnma7iity might suffer. Yes, Christians, the man Christ Jesus was like one of our- selves, as encompassed with the same in- firmities, and subjected to the same dis- tresses; as accessible to sorrow, and as sens- ible of ignominy and pain. I'hirdly^ our Lord died in a state, where, Vol. L X 322 LORD'S SUPPER. after undergoing an agony of spirit, he was at last forsaken by his Father in heaven. The presence of God, and the aids of his Holy Spirit, have always been the consola- tion of good men in their afflictions. They experienced the fulfilment of these pro- mises, " As thy days are, so shall thy " strength be. When thou goest through *' the waters 1 will go with thee, and " through the rivers, they shall not over- '' flow thee. Our fathers trusted in thee," saith the Psalmist, *' they trusted, and thou ** didst deliver them." But in the suf- ferings endured by the Redeemer in the garden, and on the cross, God departed from him, and the Divine presence was withdrawn. Christians ! what an hour was that, which our Saviour passed in the garden of Geth- semane ! In the time of his passion, his torments succeeded one another. He was not at the same time betrayed, mocked, scourged, crowned with thorns, pierced with a spear, extended on a cross, and for- saken by his Father ; but here all these torments rose before him at once : all his MORNING SERVICE. 32ii pains were united together : what he was to endure in succession, now crowded into one moment, and his soul was overcome. At this time, too, the powers of darkness, it should seem, were permitted to work upon his imagination, to disturb his Spi- rit, and make the vale through which he was to pass, appear more dark and gloomy. Add to this, that our Saviour having now come to the close of his public life, his whole mediatorial undertaking presented itself to his view j his eye ran over the his- tory of that race which he came to save from the beginning to the end of time ; he had a feeling of all the misery, and a sense of all the guilt of men. If he looked back into past times, what did he behold ? The earth a field of blood, a vale of tears, a theatre of crimes. If he cast his eyes up- on that one in which he lived, what did he behold ? That nation to whom he was sent, rejecting the counsel of God against themselves, imprecating his blood to be upon them and their children, and bring- ing upon themselves such a desolation as has not happened to any other people. X2 324 LORD'S SUPPER. When he looked forward to succeeding ages, what did he behold ? He saw that the wick- edness of men w^as to continue and abound, to erect a Golgotha in every age, and by obstinate impenitence to crucify afresh the Son of God. He saw that in his blessed name, and under the banners of his cross, the most atrocious crimes were to be com- mitted, the sword of persecution to be drawn, the best blood of the earth to be shed, and the noblest spirits that ever graced the world to be cut off; he saw that for many of the human race all the efforts of saving mercy were to be defeated ; that his death was to be of no avail ; that his blood was to be shed in' vain ; that his agonies- were to be lost, and that it had been happy for them, if he had never been born. He saw that he was to be wounded in the house of his friends ; that his name was to be blasphemed among his own follow- ers ; that he was to be dishonoured by the wicked lives of those who called themselves his disciples ; that one man was to prefer the gains of iniquity, another the blandish- ments of pleasure, a third the indulgence of malicious desire, and all of you, at times. MORNING SERVICE. 325 the gratification of your favourite passion, to the tender mercies of the God of peace, and the dying love of a crucified Redeem- er. While the hour revolved that spread forth all these things before his eyes, we need not wonder that he began to be m agony, and that he sweated as it were great drops of blood. On the cross that agony returned, and was redoubled. Judge of what he felt by the expressions of the Prophet in the mysti- cal psalm, « My God, my God, why hast « thou forsaken me, why art thou so far « from helping me, and from the words of "■ my roaring ? O my God, I cry m the " day-time, but thou hearest not, and m " the night-season I am not silent. Our « fathers trusted in thee ; they trusted, " and thou didst deliver them. But I am « a worm, and no man; a reproach of men, " and despised of the people. 1 am pour- " ed out like water. My heart is meltc -^ death's pangs about me went, 5 Hell's sorrows me environed : death's snares did me prevent, 6 In my distress I calFd on God, cry'd to my God did I ; He from his temple heard my voice, to his ears came my cry. 7 Th* earth, as affrighted, then did shake^, trembling upon it seiz'd ; The hills' foundations moved were, because he was displeas'd. MORNING SERVICE. 3Z5 FENCING OF THE TABLES. [What is termed the Fencing of the Tables, is a Dis- course designed to point out the characters of such aa arc wortliy, and such as are unworthy, to be aduiiUal to sit at tlicm. Among the Author's manuscripts, no form for this pur- pose could be found. The following is supplied by on« of his friends, tliat no part of the Sacramental Service might be wanting.] *' /Christians, we proceed now to the particular and solemn service of this day. An ordinance the most sacred and holy in the Christian religion, is now, by the blessing of God, to be celebrated among us. The Table of the last Supper of our Lord, is before you ; and there will soon be placed upon it the consecrated repre- sentations of the Body and Blood of Jesus Christ, the Son of God, the second Per- son of the Trinity, and the Saviour of the world. Let now, therefore, the believer in Christ, and the keeper of his command- ments, prepare himself to approach and sit 336 LORD'S SUPPER. down, partake of the spiritual feast, and present his vows to the Most High. ** My brethren ! So sacred an occasion as this is, demands, upon our part, a suit- able frame of spirit, and naturally tends to inspire us with religious awe. Many serious and solemn thoughts now arise in the mind. An holy fear takes possession of the soul ; and we distrust ourselves, when about to approach unto the pre- sence of the living God. " Who is the *' man that shall ascend into the holy hill ? " and where is he who has clean hands and ** a pure heart ?'' These questions arise ^ in the breasts even of the faithful, and of the devout. They know that God is of purer eyes than to behold iniquity ; and therefore they desire to sanctify their hearts before Him, and to prepare themselves to enter within the Fence that is now to be drawn round his holy place. " Before, therefore, we advance, let us inquire, — What is it that God hath re- quired of us ? How read the Command- ments and the Law r" MORNING SERVICE. f?37 In tlie Book of Exodus xx, 3, &:c. we find these words : — " Thou shalt have no other gods before *' me. ** Thou shalt not make unto thee any ** graven image, or any likeness of any « thing that is in heaven above, or that is " in the earth beneath, or that is in the " water under the earth. Thou shalt not '* bow down thyself to them, nor serve *' them: for I the Lord thy God am a *' jealous God, visiting the iniquity of the " fathers upon the children unto the third *' and fourth generation of them that hate « me : and shewing mercy unto thousands *' ot them that love me, and keep my com- '* mandments. *' Thou shalt not take the name of the « Lord thy God in vain: for the Lord - will not hold him guiltless that taketh *' his name in vain. « Remember the Sabbath day, to keep ** it holy. Six days shalt thou labour, and Vol. L Y 53S LORD'S SUPPER. " do all thy work. But the seventh day *' is the Sabbath of the Lord thy God : " in it thou shalt not do any work, thou, " nor thy son, nor thy daughter, thy man- " servant, nor thy maid-servant, nor thy " cattle, nor thy stranger that is within « thy gates : for in six days the Lord " made heaven and earth, the sea, and all ■' that in them is, and rested the seventh " day: wherefore the Lord blessed the Sab- '* bath day, and hallowed it. a u m Honour thy father and thy mother : that thy days may be long upon the land which the Lord thy God giveth thee. " Thou shalt not kill. ** Thou shalt not commit adultery. " Thou slialt not steal. *' Thou shalt not bear false witness ^* against thy neighbour. '* Thou shalt not covet thy neighbour's ^' house, thou shalt not covet thy neigh- MORNING SERVICE. 339 " hour's wife, nor his man-servant, nor " his iTiaid-servant, nor his ox, nor his *' ass. nor any thing that is thy neigh- " hour's." * Such is the law : and we read, that when it was delivered, there was thunder on Sinai, and the people in fear, " remov- " ed and stood afar olF." Let him who is guilty of wilfully and hahitually breaking the law, forbear to approach unto this table : Stand back thou profane ! But let him who obeys, and who loves the law, come forward : Sit down thou blessed of the Lord! * Let us next proceed from the Old to the New Testament, from the laws of Moses to the laws of Christ. These are not reduced into a summary ; hut thcu' substance is, faith, charity, hiunility, and holiness. We have the character of the blessed in Jesus described particularly by himself in the sermon on the mount,' Matth. V, 3, &c. " Blessed are the poor in sphit : lor " theirs is the kingdom of heaven. Y 2 340 LORD'S SUPPER. " Blessed are they that mourn : for they " shall be comforted. *' Blessed are the meek : for they shall " inherit the earth. " Blessed are they which do hunger and " thirst after righteousness : for they shall ^' be filled. *' Blessed are the merciful : for they •* shall obtain mercy. " Blessed are the pure in heart : for they " shall see God. *' Blessed are the peace-makers : for they " shall be called the children of God. " Blessed are they which are persecuted *' for righteousness' sake : for theirs is the *' kingdom of heaven. " Blessed are ye, when men shall revile ** you, and persecute you, and shall say " all manner of evil against you falsely " for my sake. Rejoice, and be exceedin MORNING SERVICE. 541 " glad ; for great is your reward in hea- " veil : for so persecuted they the prophets ^" which were before you." ^ Such is the character of the disciples of Christ ; of those who are worthy to sit down at the Sacrament of the Supper. Let him whose character is opposite, for- bear to approach unto this table : Sta?id back thou profafte ! But let him who imi- tates and who loves this character, come forward ; Sit down thou blessed of the Lord ! ' Some, my brethren, are thus debar- red ; but the invitation to this feast is large and generous. All who repent and pro- pose a reformation of life are welcome. Every one that thirsteth is invited to drink. They who labour and are heavy laden, are desired to come in, and obtain rest ; and he that cometh unto me, saith the Master of the feast, I will in nowise cast out. ' Trusting in the grace of Heaven, let us therefore advance ; and in vows of obe- dience, in songs of love and of praise, par- take of the banquet which is prepared. 342 LORD'S SUPPER. And, may He himself be with us, and go before us. May He clothe us this day with the wedding-garment, and his banner over us be love !' Psalm xxiv. [Upon the giving out of a Psalra, such as this, the IMinister desires the Elders to bring forward the Sacra^ mental Elements, and the Communicants to take theis seats at the Communion Table. The Elders consist of several of the most respectable and exemplary persons of the Parish, and who are regularly ordained to their office, which has a considerable resemblance to that of Church- Warden in England. The senior Elder generally carries the Bread, and the rest follow him with the Wmcy Cups, and other utensils, which, for the most part, arc of silver. Tlese are placed at the head of the Commu- nion-Table, which corresponds to the^//flr in the Church of England. The whole Communion-Table is covered with linen. The Communicants, agreeably to directions given them on a previous day, approach to the Tables, and, after communicating, retire from them, in such u manner as to avoid any interference or confusion.] 7 Ve gates lift up your heads on high, ye doors that last for ay, Be lifted up, that so the King of gloi*y enter may. MORNING SERVICE. 343 8 But who of glory is the King ? the mighty Lord is this, E*en that same Lord, that great in might and strong in battle is. 9 Ye gates, Uft up your heads, ye doors, doors that do last for ay. Be lifted up that so the King of glory enter may. 10 But who is he that is the King of glory ? who is this ? The Lord of hosts, and none but he, the King of glory is. 344 LORD'S SUPPER, IIONSECRATION PRAYER. [This Prayer is pronounced by the Minister standing at the head of the Communion- Table, to which he has now descended from the Pulpit. And the Addresses to the Communicants, are all afterwards delivered succes- sively at this place.] " ILternal Jehovah ! Lord of the heavens and of the earth, God of glory, we bend before thy throne. Thy child- ren prostrate themselves with holy adora- tion at thy footstool. The heavens are bright with thy glory. The earth is full of thy praise. The great universe is thy temple. Thy name is Jehovah, who alone hast, of thyself, being and immorta- lity. *' Thou mightst have continued for ever alone, in the enjoyment of thine own per- fections, though angels and men had ne- ver been. But to extend life, to commu- nicate happiness, and to diffuse joy, thou didst rise from thy throne, thou raisedst MORNING SERVICE. "Mfi thine arm over the void, thou spakest this earth into existence, thou madst us after thine own image, and hast watched over us from the beginning of time, even until this day. *' When we transgressed against thy commandments, and lost our original in- nocence, thy mercy foresook us not. Thou hadst compassion upon the offspring of Adam. Thine eye looked with pity ; thou didst lay our help upon One who was mighty to save. Him, in the fulness of time, the Ambassador of peace and recon- ciliation, and love, thou didst send. Our ears have heard the joyful sound ; our eyes have seen the salvation of our God, This is a day of the Son of Man ! " Glory be to God, that peace is pro- claimed on earth, and good- will to the children of men ! Hosanna to the Son of David ! Blessed be he who came in the name of the Highest to save us ! Halle- luiah, Halleluiah, to him that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb for ever and ever ! 34S LORD'S SUPPER. *' God of the patriarchs ! who saw afar off this day which we now commemorate : God of the prophets ! who foretold its ar- rival : God of the righteous men ! who de- sired its approach : God of the evangelists and apostles ! who first beheld the day of the Messiah : God of the martyrs and con- fessors ! who honoured it with their blood : God of our fathers, who within these walls have kept it in remembrance : God of our children ! who will commemorate it when we shall sleep in the dust : God of time I God of eternity ! descend now, make thy- self known to us, and fill this house with thy glory. *' Father Almighty ! Creator of the world, great Parent and Preserver of men,, who didst contrive the mystery of our re- demption, which we now come to comme- morate : Son of the Most High ! Redeemer of the world, Intercessor, Friend, and Pa- tron of the human race, who by thy death upon the cross, didst accomplish the mys- tery of our redemption, which we now come to commemorate : Eternal Spirit ! proceeding from the Father and the Son, MORNING SERVICE. 347 Author of the divine hfe, Comforter of the faithful, Inhabitant of the temple of a pure heart, who dost apply to the penitent the benefits of that redemption which we now^ come to commemorate, — Father, Son, and Holy Spirit ! God blessed for ever ; be now present ; be now propitious, and hear the prayers of thy people. *^ Thou hast brought us to thy holy mountain ; make us joyful in thy house of prayer. We have come to thy temple ; may we behold thy glory ; may the beauty of our God be upon us, and make all thy goodness to pass before us. Open unto us the fountain of life, that we may drink and live. Now command the blessing, even life for evermore. '' May these elements of bread and wine, which in the name, and by the authority, of the Lord Jesus Christ, we now set apart to represent his body and blood, convey to the faithful the grace of the new covenant. May the bread become the bread of life ; may the fruit of the vine be a fore- taste of that wine which is for ever new^ in 348 LORD'S SUPPER. the kingdom of the Father. Ealing of this bread, and drinking of this cup, may we never after hunger or thirst again. Hear, O God, these our humble praises and pray- ers. May they now ascend before thee with acceptance from this table, upon which are the emblems of the Lamb sacrificed, to the throne of the Lamb reigning in glory. Now, to the Father, and the Son, and the Holy Spirit, be all glory, and honour, do- minion, and power, time without end. ^\men." MORNING SERVICE. 349 ADDRESSto communicants before and after THE SERVICE OF THE TABLES. IService of Tables, is the bomely phrase which ha8 been bisg used, and is still ret lined upon this occasion. It strictly refers to tlie distribution of the Elements bj the Elders. It has been improperly extended to the Addresses made by the Minister; for the JMinister, in reality, only gives the Elements io the two Communi- cants who sit nearest on each hand. The Elders ad- minister them to the rest. At the first Table, the Minister, immediately upon concluding the Consecration Prayer, usually proceeds to read the words of the Institution, and without adding more, to distribute the Elements. But before the Ser- vice of the succeeding Tables, Addresses at some leno^tk are made to the Communicants.] TABLE FIRST. [Before the Service.] " Communicants! I now proceed, after the example, and in the words of our Lord, to distribute among you the symbols of his 3 350 LORD'S SUPPER. body broken, and of his blood shed. The sacred warrant was received of the Lord, and has been delivered unto us. [Service.] (C The Lord Jesus, that night on which " he was betrayed, took bread, and having ** given thanks," (as we have already done in his name), '' he brake it, and gave it '* unto his disciples, saying, Take, eat ;" " {Here the Minister gives the Bread) , this '* is my body which is broken for you; " this do in remembrance of me." [After a short Pause.] ^' In like manner also after supper, he " took the cup, and gave it unto his dis- ** ciples," (Here the Minister gives the ciip)^ " saying, this cup is the New Testament *' in my blood, shed for the remission of " the sins of many ; drink ye all of it. For ** as often as ye eat of this bread, and drink " of this cup, ye do shew the Lord's death *' until he come again." MORNING SERVICE. S5l [After the Service.] " Draw near, niy soul, and behold this great sight ! Thy Saviour, the Son of God, and equal to God, in agony, upon the cross ! *' Comunicants ! that agony was for vou. It was to save you from the wrath to come. It was to restore you to the fa- vour and image of God ; and to present you one day before Heaven, a glorious Church, perfect in the beauty of holiness. <' Forbid it, O communicants, that you should ever be of that number who crucify the Lord afresh, and by your ungodly lives dishonour that name by the which you are called. The religion of Jesus may be at- tacked by its enemies, but it can only be hurt by its friends. Much, therefore, O Christians, depends upon you. The sm- cerity of your faith, the truth of your reli- gion, and the honour of your Master, ar at stake. Shew to the world the divinity oi^ the Gospel, by leading lives becoming its (• f.52 LORD'S SUPPER. glorious light ; and never forget the vows which you have this day made. ** To animate you to run the race of glo- ry, lift up your eyes, O communicants, from these symbols of the Lamb sacrifi- ced, to the throne of the Lamb reigning in glory. There the harps of heaven are all employed, and the song of Moses and the Lamb is heard from ten thousand voices. The blessed above, with one ac- cord, cast down their crowns at the foot of the throne, and cry out, Hossanna, and blessing, and praise ! Many who, like our- selves, were frail and imperfect creatures, who, like us, struggled under the bondage of corruption, have now entered within the gates of the heavenly Zion, and have sat with Abraham, and Isaac, and Jacob, in the new Jerusalem. ** O city of the living God ! when shall we approach to thee. When shall the day come, when death shall be swallowed up in victory ; when this corrupted shall put on incorruption ; when this mortal shall put on immortality ! This is our song in MORNING SERVICE. 35.-5 the house of our pilgrimage. Eecause of this our glory rejoices, and our flesh shall rest in hope. *' As ye have received the Lord Jesus, ** communicants, so walk ye in him. Go " in peace ; and may the God of all peace '' and grace go with you. Amen." [The Minister now generally quits llie head of the Table; and, after communicating at the Second Service, resumes his place iu the Pulpit. One or more neigh- bouringMinisters, who act the part of his Assistants, pre* side, in succession^ at thQ remaining Tables.] Psalm ciii. 1 O TH0U5 my soul, bless God the Lord, and all that in me is Be stirred up, his holy name to magnify and bless. 2 Bless, O my soul, the Lord thy God, and not forgetful be, Of all his gracious benefits he hath bestow 'd on thee. Vol. L Z 354 LORD'S SUPPER TABLE SECOND. [Before the Service.] CjOMmunicants ! yovi have sat down at this table, to commemorate the death of your Redeemer. It was the solemn charge of your Lord himself, " Do this in remem- '*' brance of me." We are so formed by the Author of our frame, that the memo- rial of a friend who is no more, and the token of a love that is past, has a wonder- ful power over the affections. The slight- est circumstance that recals a departed friend, awakens the sensibility of the soul. The smallest relic acquires a value : a robe, a ring, or a portrait, calls up a history, on which the heart delights to dwell. How much more, the memorials of our glorious Redeemer, the dearest friend of the whole human race ? * Remember now, then, O Communi- cants ! the Man of sorrows. Remember his state and sufferings, from Bethlehem to the cross. Mark the reception he met with, MORNING SERVICE. 45!i despised and rejected of men : he came to his own, and his own received him not. In the midst of scorners, in the hands of persecutors, mark the patience and meek- ness of the Lamb of God. Follow him to the court of Herod, the hall of Pilate, and the hill of Calvary. See him at last, fore- saken of God. Was there ever sorrow like T*nto his sorrow ? " Turn now, Christians, with hearts pe- netrated with grief, and bleeding at a sight so sad, to the table that is novv' before you. You are now to engage in the most solemn ordinance of our holy religion. You are going to transact with the King of Glory, now far from men and their cruelties, in the highest heavens ; before whom ten thousand tim.es ten thousand angels bovV down and adore. You are about to com- memorate that scene at which the sun grew dark and the earth trembled. You are go- ing to seal your souls to the day of ever- lasting' redemption. Not the last hour of your lives can be more awful than the pre- sent. In the view of so great a covenant^ T call upon you to banish all worldly pas- Z 2 ^^6 LORD'S SUPPER. sions, all unhallowed affections,- all the leaven of malice and of wrath, and to sit with reverence, with faith, and with love, at the feast of salvation, of which you are now to partake. [Service. 1 *' The Lord Jesus, that night in which " he was betrayed, took bread," &c. [After the Service.] *' How awful is this place ! Surely God *' is here, and I knew it not. This is none *' other than the house of God ; and this *' is the gate of heaven." These were the words of Jacob, when at Bethel he awoke from a dream in which he was favoured with the visions of God. The Almighty gave him this promise, " In thy seed shall ' all the families of the earth be blessed." ' This promise, O Christians ! is fulfilled. This great redemption is accomplished by him, in whom all the families of the earth are blessed. MORNING SERVICE. s.57 * While you now sit with him at liIs table, the Patriarchs who foresaw this day, the Prophets who foretold it, and the righteous men who desired to see it, are beholding your Redeemer face to face, and sitting on thrones in heaven, where they now dwell in the presence of God ; where they now sing the high praises of the Lord. My friends ! there are vacant thrones. Say, are they vacant for you ? Do you look on him whom you have pierced with re- penting eyes ? Do your hearts glow with love to God, with love to Christ, with love to the brethren ? Do your bosoms expand with benevolence to the whole creation of God ? Do you aspire to the regions above, and breathe towards the mansions of im- mortality? Then, my friends, these thrones are vacant for you ! As sure as if an angel descended from his orb, and hailed you to your seat at the right hand of the Father, so sure will be your arrival in the promij^- ed land. If you fulfil the vows you now make, the gates will lift up their heads that ye may enter in: your blessed Redeem- er will call unto you, '' Well done, good ** and faithful servants, enter ye into the " joys of your Lord." Z ; 558 LORD'S SUPPER, * Thither, O Communicants, may ye all go ! May God himself keep your feet from falling ; hear this day your vows, and seal you to the day of redemption 1 *' As ye have received the Lord Jesus ,'^' &c. Psalm ciii. ^ All thine iniquities who dotfe most graciously forgive ; Who thy diseases all and pains doth heal, and thee relieve. i Who doth redeem thy life, that thou to death mayst not go down : Who thee with loving kindness doth and tender mercies crown. MORNING SERVICE. f5J9 TABLE THIRD. [Before the Service.] Communicants ! the prophet Daniel foretold concerning oin' Saviour, '' That he " should confirm a covenant with many." It is for this purpose that we have as- sembled this day. You sit down at this table to avouch the Lord to be your God, and to join yourselves unto him, in a per- petual covenant never to be broken. ' If with sincere and upright hearts, if with true repentance and faith unfeigned, yoii accept the terms of the Gospel, then all the blessings of the new covenant are in this ordinance sealed to your souls. Then t;he promises of the covenant become your portion : Then the blood of the covenant pleads for you in heaven : Then the mes- senger of the covenant brings you the glad tidings of salvation : Then the Mediator of the covenant gives you access to the holiest of all, by that new and living way 360 LORD'S SUPPER. which he hath consecrated with his flesk within the vail. " Rejoice greatly, O daughter of Zion," said the Prophet of old, " for behold thy " King Cometh !" " Rejoice greatly, O '^ daughter of Zion," say we now, " for " behold thy King is come !" Sing hosan- na : Strew his path with flowers : He who loved us is come ! When Jesus wept at the grave of Lazarus, the Jews, observing his emotion, cried out, " Behold how he lov- " ed him !" Christians ! The ordinance which we are now to celebrate, represents the Redeemer, not as shedding tears, but shedding his blood for his friends. Much greater reason have we then to cry out, — " Eehold how he loved the human race 1" * My friends, this is a feast of joy : This is the eucharist or song of thanksgiving. When the Patriarchs saw afar ofF this day which we now commemorate, they re- joiced : The Prophets broke out into strains of exultation, when they foretold its ar- rival : The angels, when they announced its approach, tuned their harps to higher MORNING SERVICE. 361 joy, and sung, *' Glory to God in the " highest, peace on earth, and good- will " to the children of men." It is a token of love which had no begianhig, and which shall never have an end. Like the bow appearing in the cloud in the day of rain, which the hand of the Most High hath bended, it is a memorial of the world's being preserved from one deluge, and a signal that it shall never be destroy- ed by another. * To commemorate this great salvation, and to enter into covenant with God, I now distribute among you the symbols of the body and of the blood of Christ. [Service.] *' The Lord Jesus, that night in which " he was betrayed took bread," Sec. [After the Service.] " I will arise and go to my Father, and ^' say, Father, I have sinned against hea- ** ven and before thee." Instead of bcini; 562 LORD'S SUPPER, in covenant with God, I heretofore made a covenant with sin and with death. That covenant, from henceforth, I disannul : Be it written in the volume of thy book, that henceforth I am thine ! Accept of a heart v/hich has been long estranged from thee : Receive a prodigal returning to his Father's iiouse. If I have done iniquity in times past, I will do o no more. Lord ! thou who knowest all things, thou, knowest how sincerely I am resolved to serve thee. * Communicants, you have now joined yourselves in covenant to God : You have vowed unto the Most High, and I hope you shall never go back. Your hands have this day been lifted up unto the Lord, let them never afterwards be defiled with sin : Your eyes have this day beheld a crucified Redeemer, let them henceforth be turned away from beholding iniquity. *' I make no doubt, Christians, that at this moment you are sincere, and in ear- nest to fulfil the engagements you have now come under. But ah ? do you know the deceitfulncss and treachery of your ^ MORNING SERVICE. rib^ own souls ? Set a watch, I beseech you, upon your hearts. Give them unto Cod ; for unless he keep the house, the watch- men watch in vain. * Finally, my brethren, trust always in your Saviour, for he is mighty to save. He suffered, but he overcame. The hour of his agony was also the hour of his tri- umph. Then he destroyed death, and him that had the power of death. The Lion of the tribe of Judah bruised the head of the serpent. He cancelled the handwriting that was against us, fixed it to his cross, and left it there as a trophy of his victory. He dismissed the cherubim that were placed in the garden of Eden ; and sheathed the flaming sword which turned every way to guard the tree of life. He hath opened the gates of heaven, and now calls upon us to follow after him, and to enter in. *' As ye have received the Lord jcsiis.'* &:c. 64 LORD'S SUPPER. Psalm ciii. T S 1 PIE Lord our God is merciful, and he is gracious. Long-suffering, and slow to wrath, in mercy plenteous. 9 He will not chide continually, nor keep his anger still. 10 With us he dealt not as we simi'd, nor did requite our ill. TABLE FOURTH. [Before (lie Service. J ^ CjOmmunicants ! After the first cele- bration of the supper, our Lord looked for- ward to the hour of his departure, and said, *' I will not henceforth taste the fruit of " the vine, until the day that I shall drink ** it new in the kingdom of the Father." When we have now assembled to celebrate this supper, it becomes us, in imitation of MORNING SERVICE. 365 his example, to look forward to the hour of our departure, and consider this op- portunity, as perhaps the last which we shall enjoy. We recollect the brevity and uncertainty of human life. We have up- on our minds the sad remembrance of friends that are departed, and of compa- nions that are no more, who, on former occasions, sat with us at this table. Now they have gone to their rest \ to the house appointed for all living. ' Let us then, for a while, shut out the living world, descend into the chambers of the grave, and, like the Prophet of old, take a view of the vale of deAth. ' Son of man ! what dost thou behold ? Dust and ashes, and desolation ; dead mens' bones scattered around. How still and fearful is the tomb ! Who lie here in these mansions that are so sad ? The handwrit- ing is blotted out : The inscriptions are obliterated: The land of desolation has be- come still more desolate : The things that; were, have become as if they had never 366 LORD'S SUPPEA, been. No trace remains of a glory that is passed. ' But let us take a nearer view of this house of deep forgetfulness. Fellow mor* tals ! around you, and beneath you, are the ashes of your fathers, and the bones of your friends. The remains of those whom you once knew, and loved, are here: The companions of your youthful years : The partners of your tender hours. Now they have no more connection with the liv- ing world. ^ But shall it always continue so ? Shall they who are thus dead, never live again ? Have the wise and the worthy, the great and the good, passed into utter annihila- tion, to exist no more ? * No, Communicants ! I swear to you by the groans and agonies of suffering Virtue- by the blood of the martyrs which is un- der the altar : I swear by that tomb from which your Lord arose, as the first fruits of those that sleep, and by these heavens which opened to receive him, and where MORNING SERVICE. SC7 in glory he now sits enthroned, that ckath shall not prevail in the universe of God. His reign is only for a season : You shall awake from his sleep, you shall break lii^ bands asunder \ and rise and live again. " When Jesus arose from the grave, he proclaimed immortality to man. When Je- sus ascended up on high, the cloud which covered the eternal world was withdrawn : the everlasting doors were thrown open, and the heaven of heavens revealed to mor- tal view. " In the name, and by the authority of Him who was once dead, but is now alive, I now proceed to give you the bread of: life, [Service] " The Lord Jesus, that night on which " he w^as betrayed, took bread," &c. [After the Service.] " Communicants ! Wc mourn j:ioc for 56S LORD'S SUPPER. tiiose which are asleep, as if there wefc no hope. We beheve that Jesus died, and rose again ; even so them also which sleep in Jesus, will God bring with him. For the Lord shall descend from heaven with a shout, with the voice of the archangel, and with the trump of God : and the dead in Christ shall rise first. " I am the resurrection and the life, said €ur Lord : whosoever liveth, and belie v- cth in me shall never die. Blessed immor- tality ! to live for ever, and with Christ the Conqueror of death, and the Captain ©f our salvation ! *' I heard a voice from heaven, says S^ John, saying unto me, write. Blessed are the dead which die in the Lord : they rest, saith the Spirit, from their labours, and their works do follow them. ** Loud as the sound • of many waters, and of mighty thunderings, this voice comes from a multitude which no man can number of all nations, and kindreds, and people, and tongues standing before MORNING SERVICE. S69 the throne, and before the Laml), clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands, — from patriarchs, prophets, apos- tles, confessors, martyrs, and righteous men, who beckon from the skies, and call upon us *' to come up hither/' * Celestial society ! Ye spirits of the just made perfect, we hear your voice ! You have now finished your course, you have entered into bliss, and have received the crown of glory f We now combat with flesh and blood ; with sense and passion : but yours is the victory. You taste the pleasvires that are pure and unalloyed : yours is the joy of paradise ; the white robe, the crown, and the sceptre. At a distance we adore : you stand in the presence of God; you see him as he is ; you enjoy the smile of Divinity unveiled. We behold our Saviour darkly in the symbols of this institution : you see him face to face, the Friend, the Patron, and the Redeemer of mankind ! * But we, too, hope to become members of the general assembly of the church oi Vol. I. A a 370 LORD'S SUPPER. the First-born ; and that what you'now are, we shall be. Hear from thy throne, O God ! the desire of thy people ; and carry us at last, from this table where we now sit, and from which we are abotit to arise, to the feast of the Lamb in heaven, which w^ill never end ! *' Communicants ! as ye have received " the Lord Jesus," &c.^ * The Service of four Tables is only given here. But in general, the Tables are more numerous ; sometimes ex- tending to ten or twelve, or more. This is ovv^ing partly to the populousness of particular parishes, and partly to the smallness of cliurches, which of ten can admit only of Table* to accommodate thirty or forty Communicants at a time. MORNING SERVICE. 371 Psalm xxiii. 1 1 HE Lord's my shepherd, Til not want, ^ He makes me down to lie In pastures green : he leadeth me the quiet waters by. 3 My soul he doth restore again ; and me to walk doth make Within the paths of righteousness, e'en for his own name's sake. 4 Yea, though I walk in death's dark vale, yet will I fear none ill : For thou art with me, and thy rod and staff me comfort still. 3 My table thou hast furnished, in presence of my foes ; My head thou dost with oil anoint, and my cup overflows. 6 Goodness and mercy all my life shall surely follow me : And in God's house for evermore, my dwelling-place shall be. Aa 372 LORD*S SUPPER. COiSCLUDlNG EXHORTATION from the PULPIT. * iVlY brethren and friends ! our solemn work of communion is now over. It has been performed with much external de- cency, and seeming devotion. I presume not to judge of the heart, — that is the pre- rogative of Almighty God. Proceeding according to the judgment of charity, I conclude that your intentions have been pure, and your hearts upright before the Lord. In this viev/ I congratulate you on the good confession which you have this day made before many witnesses. You have given your hearts to him who redeem- ed you from the wrath to come : and I have authority to assure you that you will never have cause to repent. * Henceforth you belong to the family of Jesus. Your Lord now says to you, I call you '* not servants but friends." Tlie blessings which he bequeaths to his friends who have sat with him at his table, are summed up in those precious and expressive s MORNING SERVICE. ' 373 words which he spoke to his disciples at the first institution of the Sacrament, — " Peace I leave with you, my peace I give *' unto you ; not as the world giveth, give ** I unto you.'' ** Twill see you again, and ** your hearts shall rejoice, and your joy '' no man taketh from you, — ask, and ye •* shall receive, that your joy may be full." These are the words of life ; and have in them a power to give comfort to the mind In life and death, in time, and through eternity. ' Yet, my brethren, draw nigh, and give ear to me. — It is only to those who have prepared themselves according to the pre- paration of the sanctuary, who have wash- ed their hands in innocence before they ap- proached to the altar of the Most High, that these blessings are promised. It is to be feared, that with many persons on such occasions as this, and perhaps at this very time, the performance of the solemn duty has been rather a matter of form, than ot true devotion. To such I must say, "The bread is not the bread of life, nor the cup the cup of blessing. Their hearts may have burn- A a 3 374 LORD'S SUPPER. ed for a time within them ; but this flame will soon be extinguished. Were I endow- ed with the power of looking into futuri- ty, and of beholding the after lives of this assembly, what might I forctel ? But without pretending to such a power, I may predict, from the experience of ages past, that not a few will break their sacra- mental vows, and profane that holy name by which they are called : that by secret sins, and open wickedness, they w^ill cru- cify the Son of God afresh, and put him to open shame : that he will be wounded in the house of his friends : that perhaps before the sun shall have ended his course, in the heavens, — that perhaps before the cock shall have crowed twice, the best re- solutions will be forgotten ; that one man shall prefer the gains of iniquity, another the cup of drunkenness, and all their dar- ling sins to the tender mercies of the God of Peace, and the dying love of a cruci- fied Redeemer ! *' O Jerusalem, Jerusalem," (it may be said still), *' thou who stonedst " the prophets, and killest them who are '* sent unto thee, how often would the ," blessed Jesus gather thee under his wings^ MORNING SERVICE. 375 ^' as a hen gathereth her brood, and yc '' will not ?" * But, my friends, we hope better things of you, though wc thus speak. Many, it is to be hoped, (and fain would I say, all) who have sat with Jesus this day, will sit again with him in his Father's kingdom. And for your encouragement, — He will be always with you. Over the future, there hangs a dark cloud, which the eye of Providence only can pierce. In the world you shall have tribulation. Eut let not your souls be troubled : You believe in Qod, believe also in Christ. When you go through the waters, he will be with you. Amidst all the changes of this fleeting and turbulent scene, you will have one friend, and him mighty to save, who will never fail you : You will have a city which can- not be shaken, a kingdom which cannot be moved, and a crown that flideth not away. ' For you the joys which accompany religion are preparing. Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the up- 375 LORD^S SUPPER. right in heart. Walk then as becometh the children of the resurrection, and the heirs of glory. Keep yourselves unspot- ted from the world, and let your convers- ation be in heaven, from whence you look for the Saviour. And when your hearts fail, you have an Advocate with the Father, even Jesus Christ the righte- ous, the propitiation for your souls. Let: us pray. • PRAYER^ *^ We come now, O God, from the table of thy Son, with grateful and with joyful hearts, to prostrate ourselves before thy throne. Elessed, for ever blessed be the Lord ! that our eyes have seen this day of the Son of Man : We will for evef remember it as one of the days of the right hand of the Most High. We have seen the King in his beauty : We have seen the Messiah's reign, which, of old, thou didst keep hid from prophets, and from princes, and from righteous men. Thou hast made all thy goodness to pass before us : Thou MORNING SERVICE. 377 liast opened the fountain of life, and hast poured the treasures of heaven upon earth. Thou hast this day put into our hands the dearest pledges of thy love : Thou hast per- mitted us to sit down w^ith Jesus, and par- take of that feast through which we hope for eternal life, " Blessed Jesus ! in obedience to thy commandments, and in conmiemoratton of thy dying love, we have this day joined ourselves unto thee in an everlasting co- venant, and vowed, that whether living or dying, in time or through eternity, wc will serve thee, be thine, and thine only. In obedience to thy commandments, we have joined ourselves to the Church mili- tant upon earth, and rest in hope of join- ing the general assembly and church of the first born in heaven, when we shall be ad- mitted to the presence of God, the merci- ful Judge of all ; to Jesus, the Mediator of the New Covenant ; to an innumerable company of angels, and spirits of just men iT^ade perfect ; to all the host of heaven, who are now sitting on thrones, and sing- ing hosannas to the Highest. With thcni S78 LORD'S SUPPER. we join in ascribing praise and blessing to him that sitteth upon the throne, and to the Lamb for ever and ever. Our souls do magnify the Lord : Our spirits rejoice in God our Saviour, " Pardon, O God, vfhat thy pure eyes may have seen amiss in any part of this day's service. Forgive the preparation which has not been the preparation of the sanctuary. Forbid that the bread of life should become the means of death. May what our eyes have seen, our ears have heard, and our hands have handled, keep their hold of our hearts : May we feel the transforming povv^er of that death which we have commemorated, and walk among men as the redeemed of the Lord. May we carry into life the spirit of this day. O grant us aid from above, and the com- munications of thy grace, to keep alive upon our minds a sense of thy amazing love, to second the good impressions that have been made upon us, and to assist us in performing the solemn vows wc have this day made unto the Lord. Let ujs not think, when the Sacrament is over, MORNING SERVICE. 379 that the work is ended. Having begun our journey, let us not wander in the wil- derness, and lose sight of the heavenly Canaan. Comfort our hearts under the hardships of our pilgrimage : Cheer our minds in the waste and howling desert : Bear us up under the swellings of Jordan, and bring us in safety to the promised land. May the Gospel become effectually nnto us the glad tidings of great joy, by conveying to us the pardon of all our sins, and peace with God, through our Lord Je- sus Christ. *' For these purposes, send thy holy Spi- rit to abide with us for ever. Sanctify us to thy service ; subdue the power of sin in our hearts ; save us in the hour of tempta- tion, and preserve us to thy heavenly king- dom. Let not the suggestions of a carnal mind, nor the solicitations of sensual plea- sure, nor the allurements of a corrupted world, seduce us from the path that con- ducts to glory and immortality. In pro- sperity may we reflect, that too often a serpent lurks among the flowers : In ad- versity mav we be enabled to see thy meruv 386 LORD^S SUPPER. shining through the doud ; and be con- vinced that we are in the hands of infi- nite Wisdom, v/ho knows what is best for lis, and will make all things work for our good. May we fill our stations with inte- grity, with usefulness, and with honour, hoJding fast the testimony of a good con- science. " We would humbly ofier up our pray- ers in behalf of these our native lands. Preserve the liberties of the British consti- tution inviolate to the latest posterity. O thou who art King of kings, and Lord of lords, we commend to thy protection, thy servant his Majesty King George. En- dow him from on high, with all princely virtues ; place wise counsellors around his throne, men actuated with the fear of God, and with an ardent zeal for the good, the liberty, and the glory of the people. Bless our gracious Queen Charlotte, his Royal Highness George Prince of Wales, and all the other branches of the Royal Family. Bless all in high rank and autho- rity. May they adorn the stations they possess, and by their influence and exam- MORNING SERVICE. 3Sl pie, form the manners of the people to virtue. Bless thy servants the ministers of the everlasting Gospel. May they be en- dued with the Spirit of their Master, and preach the good Word, not from vanity and ostentation, nor to gain the praises of men, but from a regard to the welfare of souls, from the love of truth, of godliness, and of Thee. << We humbly offer up our prayers in behalf of this congregation, Let the light of thy countenance be lifted up upon them; and bless all ranks, high and low, rich and poor. Guide and direct them by thy coun- sel, while here below ; and at last receive them unto thyself, that where thou art, there they may be also, enjoying blessed- ness at thy right hand for evermore. " Grant us all, we beseech Thee, that we may partake of the Spirit of our holy calling, and exercise the virtues of our heavenly state. Raise our aflections from earth to heaven, and may we become lol- lowers of those who, by their faith and pa- tience, are now inheriting the promises. 382 LORD'S SUPPER. Let not an inordinate affection to earthly objects, withdraw our eyes from heavenly things, or dissolve our connection with the joys above ; but may we live on earth as the citizens of heaven ; may we pass through things temporal, so as not to ne- glect things eternal. May we walk in the world as becomes the dignity of the ra- tional character, as becomes the sanctity of the religious profession, and the purity of the Christian hope. *' Oh ! that it may be the stedfast pur- pose of our lives, to hold fast our integri- ty so long as we shall live. Let not the fear of evil, nor the fashion of the world, nor the vain splendour of life, turn us aside from the right path. In every department of duty, may we approve ourselves unto thee ; and in every situation of life, may we possess that peace of mind which the world cannot give, and cannot take away. May we pass through life unspotted from the world, and end our days in innocence and peace. ** Be with us now in singing praises to MORNING SERVICE. 383 thy name ; and come forth with us in the evening, to worship again before thee, and to hear instructions from thy holy word. Now to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, be glory, and honour, and praise, for ever and ever. Amen'^ Psalm cxxu 1 1 TO the hills will lift mine eyes, from whence doth come mine aid. 2 My safety cometh from the Lord, who heav'n and earth hath made. 3 Thy foot he'll not let slide, nor will he slumber that thee keeps. 4 Behold, he that keeps Israel, he slumbers not, nor sleeps. 5 The Lord thee keeps, the Lord thy shade, on thy right hand doth stay. 6 The moon by night the shall not smite, nor yet the sun by day. 7 The Lord shiJl keep thy soul, he shall preserve thee from all ill. S Henceforth thy going out and in God keep for ever will. GB-C^ LORD'S SUPPER, BLESSJNG. [The whole Concrre^atlon stand up wbeu the blessing is pronounced.] " May tlie love of God the Father, the grace of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, the fellowship and communion of the Holy- Spirit, be with you, and all the people of God, henceforth and for evermore. Amen.'^ CELEBRATION or the SACRAMENT of Tiir LORD S SUPPER. EVENING SERVICE. Paraphrase Ivii. Hebrews iv, 14, to the end. * I. W HERE high the heavenly temple stands. The house of God not made with hands, A great high priest our nature wears ; The guardian of mankind appears. * Besides the Psalms of David, a Collection of Transla- tions and Paraphrases in verse, of several passages of Sacred Scripture, together with some Hymns, has been, of late years, used in several Congregations in public worship ; and this, by permission of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland. This paraphrase of Hebrews iv, 14, and like- wise the Hymn which closes the following Evening Ser- vice, are taken from that Collection, and both of them were composed by the Author of these Sermons. See Mr. Logan s Poems, published in 1781. Vol. I. B b 386 LORD'S SUPPER. IT. He who for men their Surety stood. And pour'd on earth his precious blood. Pursues in heav'n his mighty plan, The Saviour and the Friend of man. in. Though now ascended up on high. He bends on earth a brother's eye ; Partaker of the human name. He knows the frailty of our frame. IV. Our fellow-suff 'rer yet retain.^ A fellow-feeling of our pains ; And still remembers in the skies, His tears, his agonies, and cries. In every pang that rends the heart, The Man of Sorrows had a part j He sympathizes with our grief. And to the suff'rer sends relief, VI. With boldness therefore at the throne, Let us make all our sorrows known ; And ask the aids of heav'nly power^ To help us in the evil hour. EVENING SERVICE, 387 PRAYER. ** Father Almighty, we come again into thy presence, with the voice of thanksgiv- ing, and of praise, to worship at the foot- stool of thy throne. May our prayers come tip before thee, as the incense of old ; and the lifting up of our hands, as the evening sacrifice ! To all temples, thou preferrest the pure and humble heart ; to all burnt- offerings, the sacrifice of prayer and of praise. ** The heaven of heavens cannot contain thee. Thou dwellest not in temples made with hands. The universe is the altar of God. Thy worshippers are, wherever are thy works : every knee bends, and every tongue utters thy praise. Ihou lookest down from the height of heaven, upon all vhe works of thy hands. Thou art clothed with majesty, and dwellest in light. Thou art a God of pure eyes : thou art glorious in holiness. Thou lookest upon the sun, and it shineth not : the heavens are not Bb 2 S88 LORD^S SUPPER. dean in thy sight. The angels who sur-* round thy throne, continually worship thee, saying, Holy, holy, holy, art thou, Lord God Almighty I the whole heavens, and the whole earth, are full of thy glory ! " Thy throne, O God is for ever : thy dominion rvileth over all : the sceptre of thy kingdom is altogether a right sceptre. Thy tender mercies are over all thy works. Thy goodness falls everywhere like the dew, and extends like the beams of the sun. Order and beauty attend thy steps : mercy and love direct the whole train of thine ad- ministrations. Thou lookest down upon the highest and upon the lowest of thy works : thou carest for the raven of the de- sert : thou feedest the fowls of the air when they cry unto thee. Thou adornest the grass with'green, and deckest the lilies of the field with beauty superior to the glory of kings. Thou hast created all be- ing at first with a father's care, and thou dost still watch over them with a father's eye. Thou, the Lord Jehovah, rejoicest in thy works ; and thy works, O Lord Je- hovah, rejoice in thee ! Whatever hatrh 5 EVENING SERVICE. 389 being blesses thee : whatever hathUfc sings thy praise. Who is like unto the Lord our God, that dwelleth on high ! " We, too, the children of men, desire to accord with the rest of thy creation, to join in the joy of universal nature, and to bear a part in the hymn which the living world continually sings to thee. Thou hast raised us above the animal creation : thou hast opened unto us the source of pure and intellectual pleasure : thou hast endowed us with higher life than what pertains to the body ; and set before us a better world than that which we now inhabit. Thy goodness is nevsr to us every day of our lives. Thou leadest us to the green pastures, and by the still waters : thou guardest us from the arrow that flieth in darkness, ard from destruction which rageth at noon- day. The lines have fallen unto us in pleas- ant places : the sun doth not smite us by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord buildeth the house : the Lord keepeth the city. Blessed for ever be the name of the Lord : because the Lord God Omnipotent Bb ^ 590 LORD'S SUPPER. reigneth, let the isles be glad, and the in- liabitants of the earth rejoice. ** But, alas ! what is man, O Lord, that thou art mindful of him, and the son of man, that thou shouldst visit him. The child of the dust, whose strength is w^eak- ness, whose wisdom is folly, whose good- ness is imperfection, whose life is altoge- ther vanity ! We behold the heavens, but discern not him who stretched them over our heads ! we hear the voice, and speech, and language, of universal nature proclaim- ing the great Creator : we hear the night speaking unto the night, and the day re- porting unto the day, telling of him that made them, and yet we learn not to know thee as we might, nor become wise unto salvation. ** Have mercy upon us, O God, not for our own sakes, but for the sake of him whom thou lovest always, our Advocate and Intercessor with thee. Help, Lord, or else we perish : extend thy powerful arm, and snatch us from the devouring deep. Reconcile us unto thyself, through EVENING SERVICE, 391 the blood of Jesus, whom thou hast set forth to be a propitiation for the sins of the world, who suffered for us on the ac- cursed tree, that he might bring us to God, and purify us unto himself, a pecu- liar people, zealous of good works. For his sake forgive all our iniquities : Receive us graciously, and love us freely. See, O God, the contrition and repentance of our hearts. Hear the vows which this day we have offered up at the table of a Rc- deemen O our Father, receive again thy children unto thee, who return with their whole heart, and strength, and soul. Fram- er of the bodies which now stand before thee, Father of the spirits which now ascend unto thee in prayer, take thine own \into thyself. Our spirits magnify^ and love, and bless thee the Lord : As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so pant our souls after thee, O God. The desire of our hearts is unto thee, and to the remembrance of thy name ! *' May our purposes of amendment and sincere endeavours after purity of heart and life, be not like the early flood and S92 LORD'S SUPPER, dew, which soon pass away, and are no more ; but like the morning light, which shineth more and more unto the perfect day. Teach us to shun every temptation to sin : May we neither sit in the chair of the scorner, nor stand in the way of sin- ners, nor walk after the counsel of the ungodly. May we study the laws and commandments of our God : Make thera our meditation by night, and our practice by day ; that we may be like trees planted by the rivers of water, which yield their fruit in their season, and whose leaf is ever green. Let not the course of days, and months, and years, which we enjoy, pass over us in vain, to rise up against us in sad remembrance at the evening of life^ and to fill our departing hours with terror and remorse. Let not the time of our pil- grimage in this world be one vast blank, barren of improvement, and blotted with conscious guilt ; but may we pass the time of our sojourning here in thy fear, daily abounding in the graces of Christianity, and the fruits of holiness, adding to our faith virtvie, and one grace to another, till we arrive at; full conformity to thy blessed EVENING SERTICE. 3!>3 image, and be partakers with the sahits in light. May we be translated from the king- dom of darkness, to the kingdom of thy Son, and entitled to all the privileges of the children of God. ^' Bestow upon us that faith which pu- rifieth the heart, and worketh by love. Grant unto us that repentance from dead works, to serve the living God, which leadeth unto life, and is not to be repent- ed of. Fill our hearts with that charity w^iich is the bond of perfection, which suiiereth long, and is kind, which bear- eth ail t nil OS, which hopeth all things, and whic:; endure th all things. Inspire us with tiiit wisdom which cometh from above, which is pure, peaceable, gentle, full of mercy and of good fruits, without partiality, and without hypocrisy. May we exercise at all times a conscience void of offence towards God and towards man, and have the testimony of our own hearts, ' that in simplicity and godly sincerity we have had our lives and conversations in t!:c world. 334 LORD'S SUPPER. '• For these purposes, O God, inspire us with thy Spirit, and strengthen us with all might in the inner man, that we may press forward to perfection. May we acquire that humiUty which afterwards shall be exalted; that mourning which shall be com- forted ; those penitential tears which shall be changed into eternal consolations ; that contempt of the world to which belongs the kingdom of heaven ; that purity of heart which shall fit us to see God ; and perform all those works of mercy, and labours of love, for which the kingdom of our Lord was prepared before the foundations of the world were laid. Grant that neither the splendour of any thing that is great, nor the conceit of any thing that is good with-? in us, may ever withdraw our eyes fron\ looking upon ourselves as sinful dust and ashes ; but that we may persevere with patience, and huipility, and zeal, unto the end. Grant that when we shall depart from this life, we may sleep in the Lord, and when the morning of the resurrectioq dawns over the world, we may lift up our heads with triumph, and rejoicing, receive the blessed sentence of those who having EVENING SERVICE. 395 done well, are called upon to enter into their Master's joy. '' And now, our waiting eyes, O God, are towards thee. May the words of our mouths, and the meditations of our hearts, be acceptable in thy sight, O Lord our strength and our Redeemer. All these our humble prayers, we offer up in the name and through the intercession of Christ, to whom with thee the Father, and Holy Spi« ri^, be all praise and glory. Amen:' 3'JQ LORD'S SUPPER. JLVENING SERMOX. Matthew xxviii, 6. Comey see the place where the Lord lay, -TTTTKEN our Saviour expired upon the cross, the cause of Christianity seemed to be lost. Rejected by that natio.n to whom he was sent, condemned under the forms of a legal trial, and crucified as a ma- lefactor before all the people, an effectual bar seemed to have been put for ever to all his designs. It then seemed that all was over. A people whom their prophets taught to look for a king, did not look for him to come down from a cross ; a nation w^ho expected the appearance of a Messiah, did not expect him to appear from the grave. His followers were few in number, and feeble in spirit. Although he h^d frequent- EVENING SERVICE. 397 ly foretold his death, the idea of a temporal prince was so strong in their minds, that they could not reconcile themselves to the thought of a suffering Saviour; and though he had also on various occasions foretold his resurrection, they v^ere so much under the power of prejudices, deeply rooted, that they either did not understand, or did not believe, his predictions. When he was apprehended by a band of soldiers, they forsook him and fled ; they had not cour- age to attend him in the last hour of his fife ; to go with him to the tribunal and to the cross : Afar off only, they followed with their eyes, and beheld with tears, him whom they expected to behold no more. Then they gave up all for lost. The sun, v/hich was soon after darkened by a pre- ternatural eclipse, and the rock which was rent asunder by an earthquake, appeared to be the sad tokens of a glory that had departed, and of a kingdom that was to be no more. Dark and dismal were the shades of that night which descended on the Saviour's tomb : The hearts of the disciples were S9S LORD'S SUPPER. troubled, and their Comforter was gone> -All the scenes of their past lives, the mi- racles they had seen, the discourses they had heard, the hopes they had entertained, were like a dream ; they abandoned them- selves to despair, and, as we learn from the Evangelist Luke, they were about to leave Jerusalem, and betake themselves to their old employments. "While the enemies of Jesus triumphed, and his friends lamented, the counsels of heaven were executing, and the operation of the Almighty was going forward. We read in the Gospel of Matthew,— '^ In the " end of the Sabbath, as it began to dawn '' towards the first day of the week, came " Mary Magdalene, and the other Mary, ** to see the sepulchre. And behold, there *' was a great earthquake ; for the angel " of the Lord descended from heaven, and " came and rolled baCk the stone from the *' door, and sat upon it. His countenance ** was like lightning, and his raiment white " as snow. And for fear of him, the *' keepers did shake, and became as dead " men. And the angel answered and said EVENING SERVICE. 399 *^ unto the women, Fear not ye : for I ** know that ye seek Jesus which was cru- *' cified. He is not here : for he is risen, " as ye said: come, see the place where the Lord lay." (C The nativity of our Lord had been an- nounced by an angel to the shepherds of Bethlehem. " While they were abidding " in the field, and keeping watch over " their flocks by night, Lo, the angel of *' the Lord came unto them, and the gloiy " of the Lord shone round about them; and " the angel said unto them. Fear not, for *' behold I bring unto you glad tidings of *' great joy, which shall be unto all people ; " for unto you is born this day, in the *^ city of David, a Saviour, which is Christ " the Lord.'' In like manner, his second nativity, his resurrection to a new life, was here announced by an angel. What emotions would arise in the minds of these ministers of heaven, who had attended him through his life, we cannot tell : this on- ly we know, that " into these things they desire ** to look." Much more then doth it become us to contemplate the life and 400 LORD'S SUPPER. death, and resurrection of our Lord ; for lie took not on him the nature of angels, but of the seed of Abraham. Christians ! you have this day beheld your Saviour set forth crucified among you ; let us nov7 contemplate him as arising from the dead, and appearing in glory : you have already sat at the foot of the cross, and I hope reaped benefit from the commemoration of your Redeemer's passion ; let me now carry you to the tomb, to behold '* the place *' where the Lord lay.'' Behold, then, in the Jirsf place, in the resurrection of your Lord, the proof that the redemption of the world is accomplish- ed. Our salvation is everywhere ascribed in Scripture, to the death and passion of our Saviour. As our great Righ Priest, he made an atonement for the sins of the world upon the cross ; his death was our redemption, and his blood the ransom that was paid for his soul : but his resurrection was the proof, that the sacrifice which he offered up was accepted by God, and that EVENING SERVICE. 401 the price which he paid, was available for our recovery. By his sufFering unto death, we were freed from condemnation ; but our freedom was not made manifest till he arose from the grave. His resurrection then is the basis of the whole Christian in- stitution, and the ground of our faith and of our hope in him. That Christ appear- ed on earth as a Great Prophet ; that he passedhisdays in instructing and reforming the world ; and that after a life of eminent and exemplary goodness, he died the death of a malefactor, was common to him and others, whom God had raised up to be the lights of the v.'orld, and patterns to man- kind. Thus the prophets of old were per- secuted and destroyed by sundry kinds of death : thus the martyrs since the time of our Lord, were cut off in a cruel and igno- minious manner ; but in their deaths there was no expiation for sin ; the blood of the prophets and of the martyrs spoke no such language ; their blood cried, indeed, to hea- ven, — not for mercy, but for vengeance against a guilty world. If Christ had died like one of them, and been heard of no more, how should we have believed that Vol. I. Cc 402 LORD'S supper; his death had atoned to the penitent, for all the blood that had been shed from the foundation of the world ? How should we have believed that the whole earth had ob- tained remission of sin from God, by de- stroying one prophet more ? Although he had declared, that he was to be offered up as a sacriiice, and to give his life a ransom for many, if he had never appeared again, how should we have known that the sa- crifice was accepted, or that the ransom was paid ? The natural conclusion then to be drawn was, that his labours had been in vain. Then might we have said with the disciples, who were going to Emmaus, " We trusted that it had been He who was " to have redeemed Israel ;" but now all our hopes are buried in his grave. When he burst the bands of death, and rose vic- torious from the tomb, then it was mani- fest to all, that he had finished the work which the Father gave him to do. For if he had not accomphshed his undertaking, and expiated the sins of the world, he had never been released from the prison of the grave. When he arose, therefore, and brought back with him the pardon which EVENING SERVICE. 403 he had sealed with his blood ; when, in- stead of executing wrath upon his enemies, he sent again the offer of peace and recon- ciliation, and took upon himself to be their intercessor, as he had already been their sacrifice, what room was there to doubt of the efficacy of his death, the efBcacy of which was so undeniably confirmed by his resurrection ? Here, therefore, we hail the completion of that plan by which the world was to be redeemed ; here we rejoice over the finish- ing of the new heavens and new earth, wherein righteousness is to dwell, and come to the close of the celestial song, which ascribed glory to God in the highest, peace upon the earth, and good-will towards men. Now, we may join in the triumph- ant language of the apostle, " It is God *' that justilieth ? who is he that condemn- *' eth ? It is Christ that died, yea rather " that is risen, who is even at the right " hand of God, who also maketh interces- ** sion for us." As if he had said, '* who can " condemn those whom God hath justified, '' and for whom Christ hath died ? Our C c 2 40'i LORD'S SUPPER. •' great High Priest hath now offered up *' the sacrifice which was requisite for the " redemption of the world. The wrath of '* God is atoned ; the guilt of sin is taken " away ; peace is made between God and ** man ; and there is joy in heaven over " the world of the redeemed." That this sacrifice was acceptable and meritorious in the sight of God, he hath testified unto all men, by raising his Son from the dead, by exalting him to his own right hand, and committing to him the sceptre of Provi- dence, to rule and govern for the good of his church. In the second place, Christians, behold your Saviour at his resurrection, entering into his glory. His first appearance was not distinguish- ed by marks of greatness or splendour. The wise men who came from the east to worship the king of the Jews, expected not to- find him a babe at Bethlehem, lying in a manger. Descended of humble parents, and born in a mean condition, he passed his early life in obscurity, and in the la- EVENING SERVICE. 4or> bours of poverty. What the Prophet calls the '* stem from Jesse," was, at its first ap- pearance, but a root out of a dry ground ; it had no form nor comeliness, for which it could have been desired. Hitherto it had been only unknown and obscure ; and at the time of his appearing unto Israel, he was a man of sorrows, and acquainted with grief. But even while he stood forth in the power of the Lord, and confirmed his mis- sion by the miracles which he wrought, the opposition to him increased, and every act of charity he did to others, became a new source of misery to himself. During this time in which he went about doing good to all the sons of men, he had not where to lay his head. When he cast out devils, he was immediately charged with being in league with the prince of them. When he sat with publicans and sinners, he was called a glutton and a wine-bibber. When he healed the sick of their infirmi- ties, and forgave their sins, then was he called a blasphemer, and an encroacher on the prerogative of God, When he restor- ed the withered hand, and cured the blind or the lame on the Sabbath-day, then is he Cc-, 406 LORD'S SUPPER. no longer fit to live. These were such of- fences as nothing but his death could ex- piate. And to death at last they brought him. He is betrayed by one of his own disciples, and carried to judgment. He is charged with the most opprobrious crimes. In cruel sport, they pay him the mock ho- nours of a prince ; they crown him with thorns ; they put a reed into his hand ; they bow the knee before him, and, with profane and impious derision, cry, '' Hail " King of the Jews." And that nothing might be wanting, to shew how much he was despised and rejected of men, the ques- tion was put betw^een him and a murderer, which should be released ; and with one voice, the people answered, '' Release un- *' to us Barabbas." He was then nailed to the accursed tree, and died the death of a malefactor. And is this the Messiah whom the Jews expected, and whom the prophets had fore- told ? Is this He, concerning whom Isaiah had prophesied, '' Unto us a Son is born, " unto us a Child is given, and his name " shall be called Wonderful, Counsellor^ EVENING SERVICE. 407 *' the Mighty God, the Everlasting Father, '' the Prince of Peace." Is this He who was to raise up the tabernacle of David ; who was to repair the desolations of many ages ; who was to sit upon the throne of Zion, extend his dominion from sea to sea, and from the river to the ends of the earth ? Yes, it is He ! But, as the Scriptures fore- told, he must suffer before he enter into his glory. Hence, saith the same Prophet, when he shcdl be stricken for the trasgres- sion of the people, and make his soul an offering for sin, then he shall prolong his days, and the pleasure of the Lprd shall prosper in his hand. At his resurrection, the prophecies of the Old Testament are vm- derstood, and the scandal of the cross is wiped away. The history of the man of sorrows ends, and the Lord of Glory ap- pears. A brighter train of years begins, and a new era of happy time revolves. From the cloud which had concealed him long, he now issues forth in the beauties of im- iTiortality ; from the veil which had ob- scured him in the days of his flesh, the splendour of his Divinity now shines forth; celestial rays circle and distinguish hi^ 408 LORD'S SUPPER. head ; and he appears to be the Son of God with power, when he comes in triumph from the tomb, having subdued the powers of death, and leading captivity captive. He now sees the travail of his soul, and is satisfied ; he enters on the joy that was set before him ; and has all power committed to him in heaven and in earth. In the third place, Christians, behold in the resurrection of your Lord, your nature restored to its original dignity. Man was at first made after the image of God, clothed with the robe of innocence, and crowned with the honours of immor- tality. There was no discord among the principles of his frame ; no darkness in his mind, and no disorder in his heart. Hap^ py and harmonious was the temper of his soul. Order, the great law of heaven, was also the law of man. He had a paradise without, and a fairer paradise within. But by his disobedience and fall he became a different person : his nature was degraded, and his dignity was lost. He who was the Lord of the inferior world, and was in- EVENING SERVICE. 40«> vested with dominion over the works of nature, was now sunk into a state little su- perior to the beasts that perish. This change was the death of the man whom God had created ; the divine life was no more ; the image of God lay buried under the ruins of iniquity. Hence the human form in Scripture is called a " body of ** death ;" and the world is said to be " dead in trespasses and sins.'' But as by man came death, by man came also the re- surrection to life. As in Adam all die, so in Christ all are made alive. *' The crea- '* ture was made subject to vanity, not ^' willingly.'* We consented not to the de- gradation of our nature ; and he who sub- jected us in hope hath restored us again. Christ rose as the Representative of all his people ; as the Leader of an innumerable multitude, who shall follow him into the? heavens. Hence we are said in Scripture to be begotten again by the resurrection of Christ from the dead ; to be made aliv^ with Christ j to be risen with him ; and sit with him in heavenly places. Here then you behold your nature rising anew from the tomb of Christ ; fair as when it first 410 LORD'S SUPPER. came from the hands of the Creator, when he saw his own image, and pronounced it good. Here you behold it rising with ad- ditional honour : made at first a little low- er than the angels, it was assumed by o.ne who was greater than they, and is now dig- nified in heaven by him before whose throne the angels of God worship. In the last place, Christians, behold in the resurrection of Christ, the proof and the earnest of your own resurrection. Our Saviour not only taught the immor^- tality of the soul, but also the resurrection of the body. This doctrine was new to the world, and contrary to the observation of mankind ; for there is nothing in the whole compass of nature, that yields a si- militude to dust and ashes rising up again into organized bodies, and to perpetual life. It required, therefore, a proof of a particular kind, which it obtained ; for as a proof that the dead were to arise, our Sa- viour arose from the dead. Hence God is said to have given assurance to all men of the general resurrection, by raising his Son EVENING SERVICE. 411 from the dead. This subject is handled professedly, and at great length, by the Apostle Paul, in a most eloquent discourse to the Corinthians, part of which I shall now read to you. i Cor. xv, 20, 21, 22, 2'Z. '* But now is Christ risen from the *' dead, and become the first fruits of them *' that slept. For since by man came death, '' by man came also the resurrection of the *' dead. For as in Adam all die, even so '' in Christ shall all be made alive. But ^* every man in his owm. order : Christ the '' first-fruits ; afterward they that are *' Christ's, at his coming." In the times of the apostle, this doctrine was more felt than it is now ; a strong im- pression of immortality did then animate the disciples of Jesus. From whence, but from this doctrine, proceeded the zeal and spirit of the primative Christians, who em- braced the religion of Jesus at the expence of all that was dear, and at the peril of their lives. The sword of the persecutor had no terrors, when they saw it succeed- ed by a crown of glory. When they look- ed on the shore of bless and immortality, 412 LORD'S SUPPER* they trembled not, though they knew they had to swim through a sea of blood. Even when death was before their eyes, their hearts sprung with joy, and their hopes ber» gan to bloom. Not the ft^ownofthe ty- rant, nor the face of the king of terrors, nor the executioner that thirsted for blood, could rob them of their peace. They look- ed upon these as messengers sent by Provi- dence, to carry them to that better world where their hearts longed to be. This was the armour by which the saints and martyrs overcame the world ; by which they tri- umphed over pain, and ignominy, and death, and looked upon fires, and racks, and gibbets, upon every engine of torture, and every form of dissolution, as so many 'doors opening into the kingdom of glory. They were invincible, because they knew tliey were immortal. From the docrines which have been now laid down, let us conclude with some in- ferences and reflections. Christians, you are the disciples of a risen Redeemer. As we glory in his cross EVENING SERVICE. 413 and passion, let us also rejoice In his resur- rection. The disciples were glad when they saw their Lord restored to life again ; and the first Christians considered it as such a joyful event, that they used to greet one another with this salutation, *' Christ is " risen.'* He who was once dead is now alive, and lives for evermore. He hath re- moved the terror and the sting of death ; he hath hallowed the grave as a place 6f rest for all his followers, and risen as the Forerunner of the faithful, who shall rise to eternal life. He left the vestments of mortality behind him. Death hath no more dominion. And if ye be risen with Christ, put off the old man and his af- fections ; let sin have no more dominion over you ; walk in newness of life. As you have set out in the paths of righteousness, continue your course therein. Religion was not intended for extraordinary occa- sions. Holiness is not a robe which you can put off and on at pleasure. You must never lay aside the wedding garment. Tran- sient emotions which you may now feel, will not change the heart. vStarts and sal- lies of goodness which you may now expe- 414 LORD'S SUPPER. rience, will not form the character. The temper of the mind, and the tenor of the life are all in all. When religion and vir- tue have been matured by time, and grown into habit, then vv^e can pronounce them to be sincere and genuine. Let him that is righteous then, be righteous still. Let him that is holy, be holy still. Let the spirit of this day accoinpany you all the days of your lives. Carry into the world, into the business, and into the pleasures of the world, the purity of this ordinance, the dispositions you now feel, and the pur- poses you now form. Be faithful unto death, and God will give you the crown of life. Farther, as ye have gained the victory over death, through our Lord Jesus Christ, therefore be assured, that a life of faith and duty will effectually conduct you to happi- ness. " Therefore, my beloved brethren, be *' ye stedfast, immovable, always abound- ** ingin the work of the Lord, forasmuch as '' ye know that your labour is not in vain «' in the Lord." Miserable, indeed, would be the condition of the humankind ; feeble EVENING SERVICE. 41-; would be our efforts, and few our attain- ments, if, after a well-ordered life, we were obliged to sit down with the sad confes- sion, that virtue was but an empty name ; that we had cleansed our hands in vain, and purified our hearts to no purpose. But, Christians, our labour shall not be in vain ; our works of faith and love, our exertions of magnanimity, our efforts of patience in the cause of goodness ; the tender offices of humanity, charity, and pity, that we have performed, the kind dispositions that we have cherished or improved, the upright intentions which we have maintained, even the silent aspirations of a good heart, the warm wishes of the benevolent, for the hap- piness of the human kind, arc now well- pleasing in the sight of God. We know, even from our own experience, that there is a reward for the righteous. Never have we done a good deed, but we have obtain- ed the gratulations of our own conscience, and enjoyed the triumph of the mind. Let the wicked call upon tlic mount:uns to overwhelm, and the rocks to hide them in the day of the Lord. Let infidels .look 416 LORD'S SUPPER. for the shades of annihilation to conceal them, and the curtains of the dark nighr to be drawn around them for ever. Better prospects are presented to us. The hope of immortality is set before vis, and hea- ven opens its everlasting gates to receive us to its mansions. Because of this our heart is glad, and our glory rejoiceth. The Everlasting Fa- ther will not leave us in the grave, nor suffer his holy ones to see corruption. He hath shewed us the path of life. In his presence there is fulness of joy, and at his right hand there are pleasures for ever- more. Know then thyself, O man ! make thyself acquainted with thy future state. Enter early, my brethren, upon your eter- nal life ; and now think, and act, and live, as the heirs of immortality. Implore the Divine goodness to give you the spirit of that better country to which you tend, and to bless you with a foretaste of the joys which are to come. And in the strength of Heaven, go forth from this assembly, immortal; go forth into the world, the sons of God, the heirs of heaven, candidates EVENING SERVICE. 417 for a crown of glory which fadcth not away. Then you will have good cause to remember this day, as one of the days of the right hand of the Most High, and to endless ages you will bless the time when you retired from the vanities of the world, and learned to meditate at your Saviour's tomb. Now may the God of peace, who brought again from the dead our Lord Jesus, that great Shepherd of the sheep, make you per- fect in every good work, to do his will, working in you that which is well-pleasing in his sight, through Jesus Christ; to whom be glory for ever and ever. Amen, PRAYER. " Follow now, O God, with thy bless- ing, the whole solemn service of this day. Accept of the praises, and hear the humble prayers of thy people. Our souls would again bless thee, O Lord : all that is with- in us would magnify thy holy name ; for Vol. L D d 418 LORD'S SUPPER. thou hast forgiven our iniquities, healed our diseases, redeemed our hves from de- struction, and crowned us with loving- kindness and with tender mercies. Ador- ed be that Providence which hath watch- ed over us ever since we had a being. Thou wast the guardian and protector of our tender years : Thou didst supply our wants, before we knew how to express them to thee in prayer : Thou didst distinguish us with thy love, before we knew that li- beral hand from which our blessings flow- ed. Thy good Providence has brought us up hitherto : Thou hast kept our feet from falling, and our eyes from tears : Thou hast not been far off when trouble was near, nor like an absent friend to the distressed. Thou hast given songs to us in the night of adversity. ** Above all thy mercies, we thank thee for eternal life, through Jesus Christ. Glo- ry to God in the highest, for peace pro- claimed on earth, and good-will to the children of men. We thank thee for the divine doctrines which he taught, for his meritorious life, for his atoning death, for EVENING SERVICE. 419 his glorious ascension into heaven, and his prevailing intercession for us within the veil. " While we enjoy the blessings of the Gospel, may we improve them. Let it not be our condemnation, that when the light hath come into the world, we have loved darkness rather than light ; but hav- ing the promise of the life which now is, and of that which is to come, may we pu- rify ourselves from the pollutions of the world, and perfect holiness in the fear of the Lord. May we live blameless and harmless in the world, as the children of God, in the midst of a perverse and crook- ed generation. Among men may our light so shine, that they seeing our good works, may glorify thee also, our Father which art in heaven. May we put on, as the dear- ly beloved of the Lord, bowels of com- passion and mercy ; forgiving one another, even as God for Christ's sake hath forgiven us. While yet on earth, may our convers- ation be in heaven. May we run our Christian race with patience, and with cheerfulness, pressing forward to the mark D d 2 420 LORD'S SUPPER. set before us, as heirs of immortality, and candidates for a crown of glory that fad- eth not away. " We would again humbly offer up our prayers in behalf of these our native lands. We would again pray for thy blessing up- on our King, and Queen, and Royal Fa- mily. Extend thy favour to all ranks of men, and conditions of life among us. " We offer up our prayers for the whole cluuxhes of Christianity, and for all the race of man. Spread the knowledge of the faith further and further over the world. We implore thy favour in behalf of the dark corners of the earth, on which the light from heaven hath not yet shone. May the Day-spring from on high visit them, and the Sun of righteousness arise over their heads. Give thy Son the hea- then for his inheritance, and the utter- most parts of the earth for his possession. May a light arise in the regions of dark- ness, and the dry and parched land be- come as a field which the Lord hath bless- ed. Thou hast brought a vine to us from EVENING SERVICE. 421 Judah : Thou hast cast out the heathen, and planted it : Thou hast caused it to take deep root, and to fill our lands : The boughs thereof are like the cedars of God. Do not suffer its fences to be broken down, nor let the evil one lay it waste. Return, return, we beseech thee, O God of Hosts, and behold and visit again thy vine, and the vineyard which thy right hand hath planted, and the branch thou hast made strong for thyself. Extend its boughs over the whole earth, that its leaves may be for the healing of all people : That nations yet undiscovered, and ages yet unborn, may rejoice in its shade ! " Father of all mercies, God of all grace! visit the sick and the afflicted. Let the sighs of the prisoner come up before thee -. Look down with pity on tlie afflictions of the just ; bend thine ear to the groans of the unhappy. We pray for the whole human race, the distressed and fallen fa- mily of man; once formed after thy image, destined to glory, honour, and Immortali- ty, but now defaced with guilt, debased with ignorance, subjected to slavery, and 422 LORD^S SUPPER. appointed unto death. Let them know Je- sus, whom to know is eternal life. Sow the seeds of virtue and happiness every- where. May the blood of Christ which was shed upon Mount Calvary, atone for a whole guilty world. May the rays of the Sun of righteousness dissipate as one vast cloudj the collected sins of humanity ! *' May cruelty, bigotry, and wrath, be no more : May the rod of the oppressor be broken, and the sword of persecution sheathed. Come down as in the times of old, put on thy robe of vengeance, and deliver the innocent from the hands of the destroyer ; may the benign genius of Chris- tianity appear in the lives of all its pro- fessors, that the heart may be opened, that amiable virtue may appear again, that mau. may become a friend to man, and the earth resemble heaven. " We offer up our prayers in behalf of those miserable men who have abandoned themselves to wickedness and impiety. O most merciful God ! give them not over to final reprobation : Cast them not off for EVENING SERVICE. 423 ever. Pour down upon them the influ- ences of thy Spirit, to melt their hearts of stone; to turn them unto the wisdom of the just, before the day of grace expire, and the gates of heaven be shut, never to be opened again. *' May we, all of us, this day depart from thy courts with deep and solemn im- pressions upon our minds, never to be ef- faced ! Keep, O God, keep our feet from falling: With desiring eyes we look for- ward to the glory which is to be revealed ; and we rejoice in the happy immortality of the redeemed from among men. And now what wait we for but thy blessing. Bless us, O our God, and be with us for ever and ever. Amen^ HYMN V. I. '^ruE hour of my departure's come ; I hear the voice that calls me homo ; At last, O Lord ! let trouble cease, i\nd let thy servant die in peace. 424^ LORD'S SUPPER, II. The race appointed I have run ; The combat's o'er ; the prize is won j And now my witness is on high, And now my record's in the sky. III. Not in mine innocence I trust ; I bow before thee in the dust ; And through my Saviour's blood aloKe i look for mercy at thy throne. IV. I leave the world without a tear. Save for the friends I held so dear : To heal their sorrows. Lord, descend. And to the friendless prove a friend. V. I come, I come;, at thy command, I give my spirit to thy hand ; Stretch forth thine everlasting arms, And shield me in the last alarms 1 VI. The hour of my departure's come, I hear the voice that calls me home ; Now, O my God ! let trouble cease. Now let thy servant die in peace. EVENING SERVICE. 42S BLESSING. " May the love of God the Father, the grace of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, the fellowship and communion " of the Holy Spirit, be with you, and all " the people of God, henceforth and for " evermore. Amen." t( cc iND or THH KIRGT VOLWML. Vol. 1. Printed ty MunJeUt Vtlg^ l^ 5/