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 THE 
 
 RATIONALITY 
 
 OF 
 ILLUSTRATED IN A SERIES 
 
 OF 
 
 SERMONS; 
 
 TO WHICH ARE ADDED, 
 
 AN E§§A1 
 
 ON 
 
 THE MERITS OF MODERN FICTION, 
 
 AND 
 
 Al lecture 
 
 on 
 THE DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE, 
 
 BY 
 
 PIERS EDMUND BUTLER, B.A. 
 
 CURATE OF ST. MARGARET'S IPSWICH. 
 
 IPSWICH : 
 PRINTED AND PUBLISHED BY R. DECK. 
 
 SOLD ALSO BY 
 
 HAMILTON, ADAMS AND CO. PATERNOSTER ROW, AND 
 
 SIMPKIN AND MARSHALL, STATIONER'S HALL, COURT, LONDON ; 
 
 J. DECK, BURY ST. EDMUND'S; DE1GHTON AND STEVENSON, 
 
 CAMBRIDGE; AND J. STACEY, NORWICH. 
 
 1835. 
 

 The Lx»l*Aft¥ 
 
 OF COMORESS 
 
 WAS**-' ' 
 
 
 %T 
 
PREFACE. 
 
 The employment of general rea- 
 soning in defence of revealed truth 
 is sanctioned by Apostolic example. 
 Paul reasoned with all classes of 
 men from their own principles. A- 
 mong the Jews, who, although with 
 unenlightened zeal, venerated the 
 Old Testament, he drew from its 
 page a confirmation of his message. 
 Among the Greeks, who worshipped 
 the idol of human philosophy, he 
 deduced from self-evident propo- 
 sitions an argument in favor of his 
 doctrine. It is to be feared that 
 many in our own age and country 
 
IV PREFACE. 
 
 require to be addressed in the latter, 
 rather than in the former, method. 
 
 Some deviation from the very 
 phraseology of the Bible is surely 
 allowable in a religious Work of 
 the present day; yet by many is 
 regarded with timid suspicion. The 
 Bible, be it remembered, is not one 
 book, but many. Are we to re- 
 gulate style by the model of the Old 
 Testament, or by that of the New ? 
 If it be said we are bound to prefer 
 the New, here the same difficulty 
 recurs. Paul has written in a style 
 very different from that of Peter 
 and of John, who in this respect 
 differ no less from each other. In 
 fact a similar diversity runs through 
 all the writers of the New Tes- 
 tament. Are we to imitate, then, 
 what in style is common to them 
 all ? But who shall determine what 
 
PREFACE, V 
 
 that is ? The Evangelists and Apo- 
 stles themselves employed the style, 
 not of previously-existing Scripture, 
 but of their own contemporaries — 
 modified by the surpassing mag- 
 nitude and moment of their subject, 
 by the hallowed peculiarity of feel- 
 ing that filled their minds, and also 
 by the use of certain terms, not fur- 
 nished by any earthly tongue, yet 
 essential to the expression of their 
 thoughts. They did so, because 
 their aim was to benefit mankind, 
 and they were divinely taught that 
 such a method was best adapted for 
 attaining it. 
 
 It were vain to deprecate the se- 
 verity of criticism by allusion to the 
 circumstances under which a pub- 
 lication has been prepared; other- 
 wise the reader might be told that the 
 present was completed amid the cares 
 b2 
 
VI PREFACE. 
 
 of domestic education and the duties 
 of a laborious cure, with scarcely any 
 outward aid but a Bible, and under 
 the pressure of afflictions such as 
 have not often lighted on one hu- 
 man heart. Eight of the Sermons 
 from the commencement may be 
 considered as forming, in some de- 
 gree, a connected treatise on what 
 the author believes to be the prin- 
 cipal peculiarities of the Christian 
 system : the remaining two, with 
 the Essay subjoined, are on subjects 
 rarely treated, but which he ap- 
 prehends are fraught with interest 
 to a pious and reflecting mind. The 
 Lecture that closes the Volume was 
 delivered at the request of the Com- 
 mittee of the Mechanics' Institute, 
 Ipswich. The whole is laid before 
 the public with much diffidence, but 
 without anxiety. If the labors of 
 
PREFACE. Vll 
 
 the author be in any measure cal- 
 culated to promote the best cause, 
 Divine Providence may ultimately 
 prosper even them— if otherwise, he 
 stands ready to lay the torch with 
 his own hand to their funeral pile, 
 and inscribe on his ruined hope of 
 literary usefulness 
 
 
 
 Ml WttS I1U 
 
 i iau 
 
 
 
 ! 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 1 
 
 ; 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 M &CU1'~^TH : 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
ERRATA. 
 
 Page 145, line 4, for " corporal" read " corporeal." 
 
 159, — 21, for " particular" read " political." 
 
 162, — 19, for " than" read " that." 
 
 209, —21, for "offering" read "offspring." 
 
 247, — 4, for " existence" read " intelligence. 
 
 342, — 20, for " language" read " languor." 
 
 359, — 15, for " national" read " natural." 
 
CONTENTS. 
 
 SERMON I. 
 
 PAGE. 
 ON THE ADOPTION OF AN IMPERFECT MORAL 
 STANDARD. 
 
 Mathew vi. 23. 
 
 " If the light that is in thee be darkness, how 
 great is that darkness." . . . 1 
 
 SERMON II. 
 
 no fear of god without christianity. 
 
 Psalm cxxx. 4. 
 
 ie There is forgiveness with thee, that thou 
 may est be feared" • • • • .27 
 
 SERMON III. 
 
 on the nature of faith. 
 
 Romans x. 9. 
 
 " If thou shalt confess with thy mouth the 
 Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in thy heart that 
 God hath raised Him from the dead, thou shalt 
 be saved." 57 
 
X CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 SERMON IV. 
 
 ON THE GUILT OF UNBELIEF. 
 
 John iii. 19. 
 
 '• This is the condemnation, that light is come 
 into the world, and men loved darkness rather 
 than light, because their deeds were evil • . 98 
 
 SERMON V. 
 
 DIVINE PREDESTINATION CONSIDERED IN CON- 
 NECTION WITH HUMAN ACCOUNTABILITY. 
 
 Romans ix. 19. 
 " Thou wilt say then unto me, why doth He 
 yet find fault, for who hath resisted his mill* . 126 
 
 SERMON VI. 
 
 THE EXPANSIVE TENDENCY OF PERSONAL 
 RELIGION. 
 
 2 Peter iii. 18. 
 " Grow in Grace." 154 
 
 SERMON VII. 
 
 THE ADAPTATION OF CHRISTIANITY TO THE 
 VARIETIES OF NATURAL CHARACTER. 
 
 Isaiah xi. 6 — 9. 
 
 " The wo]f also shall die ell with the lamb, and 
 the leopard shall lie doicn with the kid; and the 
 
CONTENTS. Xi 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 calf and the young lion and the fat ling together; 
 and a little child shall lead them. And the cow and 
 the bear shall feed ; their young ones shall lie 
 down together : and the lion shall eat straw like 
 the ox. And the sucking child shall play on the 
 hole of the asp, and the weaned child shall put his 
 hand on the cockatrice* den. They shall not hurt 
 nor destroy in all my holy mountain, , M . .183 
 
 SERMON VIII. 
 
 THE TENDENCY DERIVED TO AFFLICTION FROM 
 THE PRINCIPLES OF PIETY. 
 
 2 Corinthians iv. 17, 18. 
 "For our light affliction, which is but for a 
 moment , workethfor us afar more exceeding and 
 eternal weight of glory ; while we look not at the 
 things which are seen, but the things which are 
 not seen : for the things which are seen are tern- 
 poral ; but the things which are not seen are 
 eternal: 3 . . . . . . .213 
 
 SERMON IX. 
 
 ON THE REVEALED HISTORY OF ANGELIC 
 BEING. 
 
 Hebrews i. 7. 
 " Of the Angels lie saith, who maketh his 
 Angels Spirits, and his Ministers a flame of 
 fire: 9 242 
 
Xll CONTENTS. 
 
 PAGE. 
 
 SERMON X. 
 
 IS THERE NOTHING IN DEITY ANALOGOUS TO 
 MENTAL AFFECTION IN MAN? 
 
 Genesis i. 27. 
 " God created man in his own image" . . 269 
 
 ESSAY 
 
 ON THE MERITS OF MODERN FICTION . .301 
 
 LECTURE 
 
 ON THE DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE . . 326 
 
SUBSCRIBERS, 
 
 Ashford, Mrs. Sproughton 
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 Bugg, Miss, ditto, 2 copies 
 
 Bartlett, Mrs. H. ditto 
 
 Barton, Bernard, Esq. Woodbridge 
 
 Bullen,G. Esq. Jpswich 
 
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 Buckingham, Mr. S. ditto 
 
 Barker, Mr. John, Ipswich 
 
 Black, Captain Wm. R. N. 
 
 Bond, J. Esq. Freston 
 
 Badham, C. Esq. Emmanuel College, Cambridge 
 
 Bull, Rev. J. G. Tattingstone 
 
 Beeton Mrs. J. Bury 
 
 Beeton, Mrs. G. Bury 
 
 Burton, Mr. Joseph M. Ipswich 
 
 Brooks, Mr. W. ditto 
 
 Bristol, Marquis of, Ickworth, 5 copies 
 
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 Cobbold Miss S. ditto 
 
XIV SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
 Cole, Miss 
 
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 Cox, Mrs Woodbridge Road, Ipswich 
 
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 Edgell, Rev. W. Hawstead 
 
 Fonnereau, Rev. C. Ipswich, 8 copies 
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SUBSCRIBERS, 
 
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XVI SUBSCRIBERS. 
 
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 Wormley, Captain, R. N. Dedham 
 
SERHOK I. 
 
 ON THE ADOPTION OF AN IMPERFECT 
 MORAL STANDARD. 
 
 Matt, vi. 23* 
 
 " If the light that is in thee be darkness^ 
 how great is that darkness." 
 
 There is not any department of hu- 
 man thought wherein so gross and fa- 
 tal errors have been multiplied as in 
 that of religion. Ages of ignorance 
 have reared false systems in all; but 
 the progress of knowledge detects and 
 dissipates every one, except false reli- 
 gion. Partial errors may cleave to 
 the science of a learned age, until the 
 
 B 
 
touch of some master-hand has swept 
 them away amid the admiration of 
 the civilized world ; but, in religion, 
 the most conflicting systems number 
 still their millions of adherents, and 
 in this department, therefore, essential 
 errors yet remain to be corrected, 
 which the experience of the past for- 
 bids us to hope that the touch of hu- 
 man skill may ever remove. There 
 is somewhat peculiar in the case, nor 
 is it difficult to point out what the pe- 
 culiarity is. On the part of mankind 
 in general, there is no deep-rooted and 
 inveterate enmity to truth in any de- 
 partment of merely natural knowledge; 
 among the educated, an eager desire 
 of discovering it, wheresoever latent, 
 or at least a readiness to recognize it 
 when discovered, most commonly ex- 
 ists ; but our experience of human na- 
 ture within us, and our observation of 
 it without us, warrant the assertion, 
 that a similar willingness to search 
 
out, or acknowledge, religious truth, 
 is not common among mankind. Nay, 
 the very reverse of it is common — an 
 unwillingness to engage in the serious 
 and unprejudiced pursuit of religious 
 truth — an aversion from the reception 
 of it when brought to light — a volun- 
 tary preference of error. Men wish to 
 be deceived, and therefore they are so. 
 Without this soil to work on, no form 
 of superstition would ever have suc- 
 ceeded on earth. So resolved is the 
 sinner on being deluded, that, if no 
 other will, he becomes the impostor of 
 his own soul. While means of better 
 information are multiplied around, and 
 ten thousand lights of sacred science 
 are blazing down upon him, he prefers 
 his own darkness, he murders his op- 
 portunities, and builds up a lie with 
 the ruins of his eternal welfare. 
 
 There is one principle common to 
 all systems of erroneous belief, one er- 
 ror that cleaves to the natural heart in 
 
4 
 
 all circumstances; it is the principle 
 of the Pharisee of old. All the lights 
 of Christianity have not banished it 
 from society, nominally Christian. It 
 is fortified by sophistry in many minds ; 
 it is maintained without reflection in 
 more. The question is never asked, 
 " are my views accordant with the 
 Scripture, and substantiated by impar- 
 tial reason ?" — or if it be, the heart, 
 averse from truth, suggests to the un- 
 derstanding an unrighteous decision. 
 If a hope of immortality has been 
 erected in the soul, the security of its 
 foundation is, doubtless, an important 
 matter; and it behoves us to look, at 
 least, into the assumed reality of the 
 simple fact, that our characters are 
 fit to undergo a scrutiny in Heaven, 
 that our moral worth is indeed worthy 
 
 of the name. 
 
 - 
 
 : 
 I. Everyone knows that the morality 
 
 of an action depends on the motives 
 
which direct it, and, consequently, 
 on the rule to which it is professedly 
 conformed. It will be readily admit- 
 ted that if our rule of life be erro- 
 neous or defective, and yet has been 
 wilfully preferred to a better, the life 
 directed by it never can receive an ap- 
 proval from God. We shall now en- 
 deavour to show that the moralists 
 of the world build their virtues on 
 no more solid foundation than this; 
 and, in order to demonstrate our point, 
 we shall examine in succession the 
 rules of life with which they have fuF- 
 nished it. 
 
 1. What conceptions of duty must 
 they have whose only recognized rule 
 of life is the law of the state ? Ere 
 they have thus lowered and mutilated 
 their moral standard, what awful and 
 successive victories must they have 
 achieved over the dictates of their own 
 calmer judgments, until, at length, the 
 immortal has been merged in the mor- 
 b2 
 
tal of their existence ! Mere ignorance 
 can hardly account for such a void, 
 where virtue's place ought to be, in 
 the soul. Yet are there men, called 
 rational, who acknowledge no other 
 law than that of the country they inha- 
 bit. Provided no visible authority 
 menace their deeds with retribution* 
 they care little to what superior tribu- 
 nal they are amenable. They have, in 
 fact, no real moral standard at all. 
 Every action is with them a thing of 
 inclination, or necessity, or prudence, 
 but not of moral bearings. A mo- 
 ment's reflection might suffice to era- 
 dicate the grossness of their error. 
 They would remember that human tri- 
 bunals have only to do with tangible 
 actions — that the prevention of palpa- 
 ble wrong, or the punishment of acted 
 criminality, is their province, and ten 
 thousand moral enormities in social, 
 in domestic, and individual life, lie 
 utterly beyond it. They would re- 
 
member, that if the vices of private 
 life and the unembodied crimes of the 
 mind were cognizable by civil autho- 
 rity, the criminal and his judge would 
 alike be obnoxious to condemnation, 
 and a being- from some purer and more 
 perfect world would alone be capable 
 of sitting on the throne of judgment. 
 But on such a subject it w^ould be su- 
 perfluous to dwell. 
 
 2. The u unwritten law'* of the 
 world is more comprehensive than the 
 former, and embraces the whole range 
 of principle and practice so far as they 
 come within human observation. Yet 
 on a close examination of the law of 
 public opinion, we shall find that, like 
 the foregoing, when considered as a 
 rule of life, it is not without imperfec- 
 tion. It wants uniformity. Its de- 
 crees in one age have conflicted with 
 its decrees in another ; and at this 
 moment it varies, in important in- 
 stances, in the various parts of the 
 
8 
 
 world. Practices were allowed or 
 encouraged by the voice of former 
 generations that are now either wholly 
 abolished or universally reprobated ; 
 what in our own country would be 
 odious and disgraceful, brings no re- 
 proach along with it when committed 
 in China or in Hindostan. Struck 
 with this want of uniformity in the 
 law of public opinion, some persons 
 have rashly adopted the monstrous 
 idea that right and wrong exist in opi- 
 nion only — forgetting that in no age 
 or country has all virtue been account- 
 ed vice, and all vice accounted virtue, 
 but certain simpler principles of equity 
 have ever been, and are every where 
 agreed on. No community has existed 
 wherein murder and rapine were uni- 
 versally approved and practised, for 
 no such community could continue to 
 exist. Yet the deficiency of the law 
 we examine must still be acknow- 
 ledged. Its dictates are uot seldom 
 
opposed to the dictates of individual 
 conscience* In every country a con- 
 duct unjustifiable by impartial reason 
 may be pursued without incurring the 
 censure of public opinion. We every 
 day behold actions committed which 
 bring no unpopularity on the actors, 
 but which almost any man in private 
 would be ashamed not to reprobate. 
 What the judgment of the individual 
 is compelled to blame, the judgment 
 of the public forbears to censure ; and 
 men collectively allow what they 
 singly condemn. To explain this re- 
 markable fact in human history is not 
 our business here — we have only to do 
 with it as an evidence of imperfection 
 in the law of public opinion. 
 
 3. There is, indeed, among men a 
 law highly pre-eminent over both the 
 foregoing. Like the divine jurisdic- 
 tion, it is not confined to external 
 duty, but reaches to the thoughts and 
 intents of the heart. Where the civil 
 
10 
 
 code was silent, and public opinion 
 erred, conscience has pronounced her 
 pure and unambiguous sentence, and 
 entered her protest on the tables of 
 the heart against practices applauded 
 by a world. Her dictates are the law 
 of God within the breast of man. Her 
 voice is the voice of a divine oracle, 
 giving response to our unuttered in- 
 quiry after the way of rectitude. Her 
 authority is sacred ; her sanctions are 
 from above. But the self-styled mas- 
 ters of moral learning, having num- 
 bered the law of conscience among the 
 rules of life, and regarded it in theory 
 as a law of God, lose sight of this prin- 
 ciple, almost invariably, when they 
 come to establish particular duties, 
 deducing them from the eternal fitness 
 of things, or the temporal consequences 
 of virtue and vice, or our natural per- 
 ceptions of right and wrong considered 
 without relation to God at all. A con- 
 stant reference to the divine will, a 
 
11 
 
 practical recognition of divine autho- 
 rity, would give to their writings a re- 
 ligions ah% which, undoubtedly, they 
 never possess. And is it wise, or 
 right, or safe, to make conscience un- 
 dergo violent transformation into a 
 virtual Atheist, and to silence ail her 
 testimony on behalf of her Author ? 
 Before the relation wherein we stand 
 to God all others dwindle into insigni- 
 ficance. No other power can prefer 
 so strong a claim to dominion; no 
 other legislator can challenge obe- 
 dience with a right so undeniable* In- 
 finitely good, and powerful and wise, 
 dare we withhold from Him our alle- 
 giance ? He has the right of a Crea- 
 tor to reign over us. " If I be a mas- 
 ter, where is my fear? If I be a father, 
 where is my honour ?" The authority 
 of the state may prescribe our conduct 
 as members of the state ; the public 
 judgment may exercise an influence 
 over us as members of society; but 
 
12 
 
 here is an authority competent to legis- 
 late for us in every relation from the 
 lowest to the highest. To make the 
 divine law our rule of life, and do all 
 things to the divine glory, is therefore 
 but our reasonable service. To sub- 
 mit to civil government from motives 
 of necessity is not enough — it should 
 be done in compliance with the will of 
 God ; to respect public opinion with 
 a view to private interest is not 
 enough — we should pay the respect 
 due to it in obedience to the will of 
 God ; and to yield to the dictates of 
 conscience, in order to avoid her stings, 
 is not enough — we should follow them 
 as intimations of the will of God ; for 
 thus to act, is to act as servants of 
 God, and to act otherwise is to deviate 
 from that character, and act as an 
 Atheist might do. An Atheist may, 
 from necessity, submit to the laws of 
 his country, and, from prudence, pay 
 respect to public opinion ; and even fol- 
 
13 
 
 low, occasionally, the dictates of con- 
 science rather than forfeit the enjoy- 
 ment of self-complacency, and sink in 
 his own esteem ; all this he may do, 
 and be an Atheist still. But, under 
 the eye of the Moral Governor of all 
 intelligences, are we no more to regard 
 His authority, than if it did not exist? 
 How must this appear in Heaven? 
 Here is the grand imperfection of the 
 law of conscience, as it prevails in the 
 natural mind — it has been practically 
 torn from its rightful connection with 
 the rule of the Most High, Nor is 
 this the only imperfection by which it 
 is attended. Conscience may, in many 
 instances, be uninformed ; and her in- 
 timations of duty can evidently extend 
 no farther than her knowledge of duty. 
 In every community on earth what 
 numbers are deficient in this! The 
 unpropitious and powerful influence of 
 evil example, combined with the obli- 
 quity of evil passion, hinders the exer- 
 c 
 
14 
 
 cise of the judgment altogether oa 
 many a practical question. Men daily 
 act as others act, and as themselves 
 desire, without a consultation of the 
 internal monitor — hence the ignorance 
 that ever punishes the neglect of in- 
 quiry may be traced in the moral ex- 
 istence of mankind. How many an 
 instance of this ignorance will be dis- 
 covered in himself by the man who 
 seriously sits down to reflection on the 
 subject of his own duties ! Conscience, 
 too, may be misinformed, and, in some 
 cases, adopt an erroneous judgment. 
 In simpler matters her guidance is not 
 delusive, for her judgment is uniform; 
 but in more difficult cases the world 
 has found it otherwise. To practise 
 the rites of superstition, and persecute 
 all who decline them, has been a point 
 of conscientious tenderness in millions 
 of human hearts. Examples of this 
 kind are not brought under our obser- 
 vation ; but others, alike in substance, 
 
15 
 
 may be found among us. And con- 
 science may be hardened into insensi- 
 bility, so as no longer to afford warn- 
 ing, by her penal pangs, when we de- 
 viate into the bye-paths of iniquity. 
 Her light, long unheeded, may be per- 
 mitted to go out in darkness; her 
 voice, long contemned, may be suffered 
 to die away into silence, or a feeble 
 murmur be its only remnant, until the 
 discoveries of eternity awaken it into 
 thunder again. 
 
 These include, or imply, all the rules 
 of life with which the moralists of the 
 world have furnished it — the law of the 
 state, extending only to grosser and 
 more tangible forms of wickedness; the 
 law of public opinion, characterized by 
 want of uniformity, and by not infre- 
 quent collision with the dictates of in- 
 dividual judgment ; and the law of 
 conscience, parted from divine autho- 
 rity, defective through ignorances er- 
 roneous through misinformation, liable 
 
16 
 
 to become marred into incapability of 
 its office. 
 
 The world has witnessed the pro- 
 mulgation of another and a purer law, 
 but to this none of its moral guides 
 habitually refer. They may praise in 
 general expressions the pure and sub- 
 lime morality of the New Testament, 
 acknowledge its pre-eminence over all 
 other ethical systems, and occasionally 
 compliment the beauty of particular 
 precepts ; but an habitual reference to 
 the revealed law of God, for the deci- 
 sion of every moral question, is un- 
 known among them. This is the point 
 which we have all along had in view, 
 and around which we would now col- 
 lect all your attention. A perfect mo- 
 ral standard has been sent down from 
 Heaven ; its divine original is acknow- 
 ledged by most among us, its unrival- 
 led elevation by all ; yet have other 
 and imperfect rules of life been wil- 
 fully substituted for it. Where the rule 
 
17 
 
 of life is wrong, how can life be right? 
 " If the light that is in thee be dark- 
 ness, how great is that darkness?" 
 We admit it is by the law of nature 
 they will be judged who know no 
 purer law ; but they who know a purer 
 and reject it, make themselves respon- 
 sible for all the consequences of adopt- 
 ing an imperfect standard. That all 
 this actually applies to his own condi- 
 tion, is an awful and startling disco- 
 very for a sinner to make ; it is there- 
 fore with much tenderness and concern 
 we would lay the subject before your 
 minds. We conceive that the consi- 
 derations brought forward are too 
 weighty to leave you excusable in 
 lightly passing them over. Pause, 
 and consider your state. The law 1 of 
 God we have shown to be the true rule 
 of life, and the Scripture to be the only 
 perfect revelation of it. There it 
 shines forth, holy, just, and good ; the 
 greater and minuter points of duty 
 c2 
 
18 
 
 alike displayed in its illumination. 
 There principle is directed, and 
 thought controlled — precepts furnished 
 for all the relations of human life, 
 liable to none but wilful misinterpre- 
 tation. If, instead of such, you have 
 adopted an imperfect rule, what plea 
 can you urge in self-vindication at the 
 bar of eternal righteousness ? What is 
 the real worth of all the virtues in which 
 you may have hitherto gloried ? Is 
 it too much to affirm, that they are 
 lighter than vanity, constituting, as 
 they do, but a weak and miserable at- 
 tempt at conforming to a false rule ? 
 No — 
 
 " The Judge of all men owes them no regard." 
 In the annals of our world, one— 
 and one only — character is found on 
 which none could ever fix a stain; 
 one only being is named who honoured 
 and fulfilled the divine law. To 
 do the will of his Heavenly Father 
 was meat and drink to him ; his na- 
 
19 
 
 ture was purity, and his practice -per- 
 fection. He could challenge all the 
 scrutiny of his enemies, and say, 
 " which of you convinceth me of sin 383 
 Such is the character on which eyes 
 purer than to behold iniquity can look 
 with satisfaction ; such is the righted 
 ousness that will bear the test of the 
 balance of the sanctuary. Such a 
 righteousness ive must be prepared to 
 exhibit, if we would find acceptance 
 with God. There must be no flaw in 
 our performances, no blemish in our 
 characters, or they must be altogether 
 worthless before Him. If sin be upon 
 them, it is impossible they can in any 
 measure commend us to his favour. 
 Let us not be deceived. Is it by the 
 opinions of the world, or by the prin- 
 ciples of his own government, that 
 God will direct the proceedings of the 
 final judgment ? No insufficient plea 
 will there be admitted — no righteous- 
 ness recognized that does not exceed 
 
20 
 
 that of the moralists of the world— no 
 performances approved that were ne- 
 ver directed by the divine law — no ex- 
 cellencies allowed of which an Atheist 
 may be capable. You may, by your 
 public worth and private virtues, com- 
 mand the love and veneration of 
 earthly society, yet be excluded from 
 the society of Heaven as men who 
 feared not God. Between a perfect 
 righteousness and none, there can be 
 no medium — an imperfect righteous- 
 ness is a contradiction in terms. But 
 such a one as you need is proposed 
 for your acceptance. — " Christ is the 
 end of the law for righteousness to 
 every one that believeth." Invested 
 with such a covering, our souls pre- 
 sent no visible stain to the eye of di- 
 vine justice. The Father beholds us 
 in legal identity with the Son, and 
 the beauty of the Lord is upon us. 
 Over against the believer's name there 
 once was a dark catalogue of trans- 
 
21 
 
 gression in the book of remembrance ; 
 but the recording angel has blotted it 
 with the blood of the Lamb, and writ- 
 ten in its stead an everlasting righte- 
 ousness. How it lightens awakened 
 conscience of her burden to realize 
 this, and removes a mountain off the 
 penitent heart ! 
 
 II. It remains to contrast the obe- 
 dience of the believer with the mora- 
 lity of the world. Although its ene- 
 mies have reproached the Gospel with 
 relaxing the motives of virtue, there 
 is an obedience of faith. The present 
 department of our subject would prove 
 a very ample one, should we attempt 
 a survey of it all ; a few leading ob- 
 servations will be sufficient here. 
 
 1. The believer acknowledges a true 
 and perfect rule of life —the revealed 
 law of (ml. Faith will receive all 
 that it understands of the word of God, 
 being simply a principle of reliance on 
 
22 
 
 His testimony. When we read a com- 
 munication from a person in whose 
 veracity our confidence is complete, 
 it is evident we cannot defer to one 
 part of it and despise another, while 
 both have equal inherent credibility. 
 Such a proceeding would imply some 
 want of faith in the word of our in- 
 formant ; in the case under considera- 
 tion it would be altogether monstrous. 
 Now the divine testimony not only re- 
 veals an indissoluble connection estab- 
 lished between faith in Christ and the 
 believer's security, but it reveals, in a 
 manner no less explicit, a similar con- 
 nection established between the prac- 
 tice of holiness and the maintenance 
 of peace. Tt declares that he who be- 
 lieveth on the Son hath everlasting 
 life ; and it as plainly declares that 
 the ways of wisdom are ways of plea- 
 santness, and in keeping her command- 
 ments there is great reward. While 
 relying implicitly on divine truth, can 
 
23 
 
 we select the former portion of its 
 testimony for the keeping of affection- 
 ate zeal, and carelessly consign the 
 latter to eternal oblivion ? And in 
 what way can we evidence our belief 
 of the declaration concerning the hap- 
 piness of walking in wisdom's ways, 
 but by directing our own footsteps 
 accordingly ? The same hand has in- 
 dited the precepts and sealed the pro- 
 mises; he who venerates that hand 
 will receive them both alike. 
 
 2. The divine authority is presented 
 to us in the Gospel encompassed with 
 additional claims. There God is seen 
 entitled to our allegiance not only by 
 the right of a Creator, but by that of 
 a Redeemer too. We view Him as 
 our Father by a twofold claim when 
 we view him through the medium of 
 his own Revelation. We know him 
 as not alone the author of our natural 
 being, and our preserver from unnum- 
 bered and unknown perils encompass- 
 
24 
 
 ing our mortality ; but we know him 
 as the giver of a new and better being, 
 the author of our life eternal, the pre- 
 server of our immortality. This will 
 overcome the mind, and bow it to a 
 sense of his authority ; it will render 
 subjection light, and make it easy to 
 obey; it will establish, on weightier 
 considerations, a permanent sense of 
 his right to reign over us. 
 
 3. But not only does the Gospel 
 give additional force to divine autho- 
 rity, by presenting it encircled with 
 new and more interesting claims ; be- 
 lief of it, in fact, gives birth exclusively 
 to the principle of submission. You 
 have seen that the world, and its re- 
 puted lights, have pushed aside that 
 authority from the place rightfully 
 belonging to it in the system of morals; 
 and the law of the state, the law of 
 public opinion, and that of conscience 
 unconnected with the government of 
 its Author, are the imperfect, or erro- 
 
25 
 
 neous rules of life, substituted by them 
 for the law of God. But why has the 
 world conspired to supersede the 
 claims of her legitimate sovereign, 
 and virtual Atheism less or more cha- 
 racterized all her moral systems, in 
 ancient or modern times, in rude or 
 civilized society? Have we not here 
 a practical evidence of that enmity 
 against God, that deep resistance to 
 his holy rule, with which his revela- 
 tion charges every natural mind? 
 But when God is made known in the 
 character of a Saviour, and we hear 
 his voice announcing " your sins are 
 forgiven," the burden of guilt falls off, 
 the dread of retribution is dissolved, 
 and the enmity that arose from them 
 is for ever slain. Revering Him as a 
 Father, and trusting Him as a Saviour, 
 we turn to contemplate him with the 
 willingness of love, and feel it a de- 
 light no less than a duty to yield our- 
 selves up to his control. Submission 
 
26 
 
 becomes natural to the mind, and we 
 would not, if we might, cast away the 
 cords of one sacred obligation. We 
 shall raise our aim to higher virtues 
 than the Pharisees of the age may ex- 
 hibit; and while they are content 
 with an imperfect and Godless mora- 
 lity, it shall be our object evermore 
 to feel the presence and follow the 
 will of the Most High. 
 
27 
 
 $ERM©<¥ II. 
 
 NO FEAR OF GOD WITHOUT CHRIS- 
 TIANITY. 
 
 Psalm exxx. 4. 
 
 " There is forgiveness with thee that 
 thou mayest be feared" 
 
 If we admit that Deity exists, and 
 that a hereafter of retribution awaits 
 mankind, it must be allowed that the 
 business of religion precedes all others 
 in importance. It is the only one 
 commensurate with that eternity to 
 which we are destined. All others 
 terminate here; their remotest con- 
 sequences, except as they affect our 
 
28 
 
 religious condition, extend no farther 
 than the grave. When the breath of 
 mortality has ceased to heave the 
 breast, and the eye has looked for the 
 last time on all that was splendid or 
 lovely in the world, what boots it to 
 the disembodied spirit how fashion 
 turns the tide of folly, how commerce 
 languishes or revives, what party pre- 
 vails in the state, or what influence is 
 dominant in the councils of nations ? 
 Much as these things affect the real 
 or imaginary interests of the living, 
 they concern not and they touch not 
 the soul that has taken her flight into 
 eternity. Other interests, if not be- 
 fore, have at length broken upon her 
 view in all their unutterable magni- 
 tude, and absorbed all her emotions. 
 Oh ! if they affected ours as they are 
 worthy to affect them, what a different 
 scene would human life exhibit from 
 that which every where meets our 
 eyes! 
 
29 
 
 The man who is convinced that he 
 has a judicial affair of infinite moment 
 to himself to transact with a being of 
 most perfect righteousness and al- 
 mighty power, and yet by a painful 
 but prolonged effort smothers up that 
 conviction in his breast, at once dread- 
 ing to obey its tendency and dreading 
 the consequences of resisting it, con- 
 ceding the reality and the weight of 
 duty's greatest obligation, and feebly 
 putting off compliance with it, is an 
 object for the Christian to contemplate 
 with the tenderness of profound com- 
 passion. But he who scoffs at all that 
 is most solemn in what he knows to 
 be truth — who glories in the hardihood 
 with which he sets Heaven at defiance, 
 and makes death and et rnity the 
 theme o* his jocular mood —is an in- 
 stance of depraved infatuation which 
 the serious behold and shudder* Nor 
 let it be believed that the courage 
 boasted by such a character is genuine* 
 d2 
 
30 
 
 Will genuine courage impel to a con- 
 test where there is no rational induce- 
 ment to undergo discomfiture, and 
 where success cannot be hoped ? Will 
 it prompt its possessor to rush on the 
 terrors of an exploding volcano, and 
 await in defying attitude the down- 
 pour of its flaming deluge? Is it 
 courage then, or is it the delirium of a 
 moral disease, that sends a man into 
 collision with the laws and omnipo- 
 tence of God, and places him under 
 the descent of his menaced retribution? 
 Oh ! for a voice to awake him from so 
 fatal a delusion. "The fear of the 
 Lord is the beginning of knowledge ; 
 but fools despise wisdom and instruc- 
 tion." 
 
 But there are those, who professing 
 an exalted zeal for the obligations of 
 virtue and the sanctities of religion, at- 
 tempt to vindicate their rejection of the 
 peculiar doctrines of revelation on the 
 ground that they are superfluous, inas- 
 
31 
 
 much as piety and virtue may exist 
 where they are disbelieved; and that 
 they are injurious, as tending to dissolve 
 the sense of moral obligation altogether. 
 In their opinion the fear of God may 
 not only flourish in all the vigour of 
 its practical influence without the 
 faith of the New Testament, but is 
 absolutely incompatible with the exis- 
 tence of such a faith. So objects the 
 Deist ; and so, be it remarked, objects 
 many a nominal Christian. So iden- 
 tical is the ff enmity" in every human 
 heart — the pride of self-dependence, 
 that builds up its own and revolts 
 against the righteousness of God — 
 that imagines security where it cannot 
 be found, and will not see it where it 
 is ! On the banks of the Ganges, as 
 in European society, by the learned 
 blasphemer and the untutored savage, 
 the same cavil is urged in justifica- 
 tion of the same unbelief, rejecting 
 the only method by which a sinner 
 
32 
 
 may reasonably hope to find accept- 
 ance with a righteous God. Still we 
 are told that virtue and piety may 
 flourish although not on hallowed 
 ground, and that Christianity in its 
 genuine form is unfavourable to their 
 production, while the evidence of fact 
 on either side refutes the double asser- 
 tion. There are, relative to religion, 
 three grand distinctions in the world 
 — superstition, infidelity, and the faith 
 of the Bible. To one or other of the 
 two former every shade of unbelief 
 may be referred. Now the persons 
 for whose benefit the present observa- 
 tions are intended, admit the demora- 
 lizing tendency of superstition in all 
 its forms, and it is therefore unneces- 
 sary to bring forward any further evi- 
 dence that it contains in it elements 
 destructive of the fear of God. The 
 self-mortifying devotee is the only ap- 
 parent exception to this, and the ex- 
 ception is no more than apparent. 
 
33 
 
 For if man be a sinful being, as con- 
 science testifies to every individual who 
 at all reflects on his moral condition, 
 what so much becomes him, in his ap- 
 proaches to God, as a self-abasing 
 spirit and sense of unworthiness ? But 
 what traits are more distant than 
 these from the character of supersti- 
 tion's ardent votary ? Are not all his 
 austerities based on the belief that, 
 guilty as he is, and fallen, he yet pos- 
 sesses a re-ascending power, and by 
 its exertion may finally glory in the 
 grand result of his vindication self- 
 effected under the eye of God? Do 
 not they originate altogether in blind 
 and self-justifying pride ? And can this 
 be a constituent part of genuine religion 
 in a sinner ? Then for the tendency of 
 infidelity, even under its most plau- 
 sible appearances, does not the history 
 of nations and the observation of every 
 day sufficiently vouch? Are not in- 
 fidels in general notorious for their 
 
34 
 
 contempt of moral decorum, except so 
 far as society around may impose on 
 them a restraint reluctantly borne ? 
 May we not with confidence affirm 
 that a pious, a truly and practically 
 pious Deist, is a character unknown — 
 so entirely unknown that the very 
 mention of it sounds anomalous and 
 absurd? Facts then evince that the 
 fear of God in its uncounterfeited 
 worth cannot be found beyond the 
 limits of vital Christianity. May we 
 not triumphantly refer to the same 
 evidence in proof that within those 
 limits it is found ? We forbear to ap- 
 peal to the annals of her martyrs and 
 her missionaries — we pass over (so far 
 as the present argument is concerned), 
 the meek yet supernatural fortitude of 
 the former, in enduring a weight of 
 unparalleled affliction for the cause 
 their unblemished lives adorned ; and 
 the untired zeal, the holy and unos- 
 tentatious labours of the latter, for the 
 
35 
 
 benefit of thankless and distrustful 
 barbarians, far from the well-known 
 and for ever renounced enjoyments of 
 home, of country, and refined society. 
 These, we admit, are not the every- 
 day effects of Christianity, although 
 they are effects to which no parallel 
 can be found in the history of any 
 other religion. But we appeal to the 
 manifested efficacy of her doctrines 
 in the present age and in our own 
 land, in every rank of society from 
 the highest to the lowest, where they 
 are known in their simplicity and un- 
 feignedly loved. Where are the de- 
 moralizing effects of evangelical truth? 
 If every thing highly estimated must 
 have its counterfeit, and personal 
 piety must have hers, is it not known, 
 however, that so elevated is the stand- 
 ard and practice of morals among the 
 professors of the Gospel, that hypo- 
 crisy is constrained, in order to pass 
 for piety among them, to assume an 
 
36 
 
 outward semblance of sanctified dis- 
 positions and moral superiority ? And 
 if the Gospel tended to demoralize, 
 should we hear, as we continually do, 
 the charge of peculiar and overbur- 
 thening strictness brought against its 
 disciples ? We might, then, rest the 
 refutation of the cavil in question, on 
 the evidence of facts themselves which 
 have proved, and still prove, on the 
 one hand, that there is no genuine 
 fear of God apart from Christianity, 
 and on the other, that Christianity in 
 its genuine form is ever productive of 
 that principle. 
 
 The words of the Psalmist at pre- 
 sent before us appear to contain a two- 
 fold assertion also. " There is for- 
 giveness with thee that thou mayest 
 be feared" — language implying, that 
 without a sense of his forgiveness the 
 fear of God cannot exist, and that 
 with it it will ever co-exist. It will 
 be interesting, and may be profitable 
 
3; 
 
 to examine, whether, in our moral 
 condition, and in the nature of the 
 human mind, materials may be found 
 for a vindication of this assertion. 
 It would be indeed profanely presump- 
 tuous to offer to the believer any proof 
 of its truth but the fact of its being 
 found on the pages of revelation, and 
 the coincident testimony of other in- 
 spired declarations ; but to those who 
 either professedly or practically disre- 
 gard the authority of the divine word, 
 it is lawful, and by the divine blessing 
 may be beneficial, to attempt the ge- 
 neral argument by which the assertion 
 may be substantiated. 
 
 1. We will suppose that a man who, 
 in either form alluded to, rejects the 
 doctrine of the New Testament, at- 
 tains a thorough conviction of the ne- 
 cessity of personal religion, according 
 to his own notions of it. We will sup- 
 pose him in the first place to investi- 
 gate with a deep seriousness becom- 
 
 E 
 
38 
 
 ing its importance, the relation in 
 which he stands to God, with all the 
 obligations arising out of it. He 
 gives up his mind, we will add, to a 
 full admission of the truth that he is 
 bound by the light and dictates of his 
 conscience, and by gratitude for innu- 
 merable blessings and forbearances, 
 to render to the Most High a homage 
 in which the heart and understanding 
 shall engage, and to rule the tenor of 
 his life by his convictions of duty to- 
 ward Him. At times he is over- 
 whelmed, as he well may be, by the 
 apprehended magnitude of so awful a 
 relation, and his mind sinks within 
 him at the bare possibility of a failure 
 in meeting the momentous obligations 
 it imposes upon him. What if it 
 should at last appear that the solicita- 
 tions of passion overpowered the sense 
 of duty, and prevailed over all the 
 convictions of his better mind, making 
 Ms life but a course of ingratitude and 
 
39 
 
 guilt ? And then he considers the ex- 
 tent of his duty, and allows the justice 
 of the sentiment that ascribes to God 
 a judicial cognizance over the thoughts 
 of our inward, no less than over the 
 actions of our outward, existence. In 
 vain, he is aware, may we expect di- 
 vine approval to reward a studious 
 affectation of external propriety, while 
 the sources of action, the affections, 
 are uncleansed within us. But how 
 complicated, and often how doubtful 
 to ourselves, are the motives that im- 
 pel us to the most plausible conduct ! 
 How great the difficulty of making, 
 uniformly and steadily, the conviction 
 of conscience the guide of our actions, 
 and of living as responsible to a divine 
 authority! Is there not on every 
 heart a superincumbent and over- 
 whelming weight, when by the exer- 
 tion of its native energies it would 
 rise to the love of rectitude, and en- 
 large itself with the liberty of virtue ? 
 
40 
 
 And in despite of the deepest convic- 
 tions, the most zealous resolutions, and 
 most strenuous efforts, are not the 
 best of men betrayed by infirmity into 
 the hands of guilt, so as daily to fall 
 short of the moral standard which 
 they have proposed to themselves ? 
 Nor can he be ignorant, however 
 highly he may estimate his own cha- 
 racter, that he too, like all other men, 
 has his imperfections to correct, and 
 his failings to mourn. What if they 
 should be found, when God shall make 
 up their estimate, to overbalance in 
 the divine judgment all the amount of 
 his virtues ? What if the latter should 
 appear so blended and polluted with 
 the workings of depravity, as to be 
 worthless in the view of infinite per- 
 fection ? What if the final investiga- 
 tion which his character is destined to 
 undergo shall be conducted with all 
 the rigid exactitude of eternal justice, 
 and the resulting verdict be pro- 
 
41 
 
 nounced by the voice of unerring 
 truth ? What if he shall indeed be 
 weighed in the balance of the sanc- 
 tuary above, and found wanting? God 
 is merciful he knows by the evidence 
 of a thousand bounties daily showered 
 on a world of folly and of guilt ; but 
 conscience darkly intimates to him the 
 alarming suspicion that God is righte- 
 ous no less than he is merciful — and 
 if righteousness hath indeed set bounds 
 to the continuance of mercy, how shall 
 the guilty finally escape? It may 
 consist with the most perfect righte- 
 ousness to leave room for repentance, 
 but not to leave room for eternal im- 
 punity. Many as are the displays of 
 divine mercy in our present life, yet 
 they are significantly qualified by 
 many co-existing inflictions, evils di- 
 vinely permitted to link themselves to 
 the folly and criminality of man. 
 What if it shall be found that provi- 
 sion was made for a more thorough 
 e2 
 
42 
 
 and lasting union between suffering 
 and guilt in a future life? Solemn 
 reflections these, and that may well 
 be supposed to trouble him. Whither 
 shall he resort for relief? Who shall 
 charm away for ever these disquieting 
 thoughts from his breast ? Who shall 
 introduce in their stead a well- 
 grounded confidence of divine accep- 
 tance, and enable him to look out on 
 eternity with undaunted eyes? The 
 atonement, if realized, will indeed 
 meet his condition, and set every thing 
 right. It will solve all his difficulties, 
 and remove all cause of disquietude. 
 It will bring deity before him in a new 
 character, invested with a wondrous 
 and designed adaptation to the sin- 
 ners state. It will present for bis 
 happy contemplation a plan whose de- 
 velopement has made it appear that 
 the Judge of all can advance to the 
 full exercise of mercy toward the 
 most criminal of mankind, without 
 
43 
 
 departing in the minutest degree from 
 the majesty of his character ; and the 
 sinfulness of man may be brought into 
 safe contact with the holiness of God. 
 But if the process of his mind issue in 
 a different result, and his rejection of 
 the atonement become finally con- 
 firmed, — under the influence of the 
 fears that agitate him What course 
 will he take ? He casts his eyes 
 around him to discover some door of 
 hope beside that which God has re- 
 vealed — but there is none. No other 
 religion offers a solution of his difficul- 
 ties, a consolation of his distress, that 
 can win from him the glance of a mo- 
 mentary attention — nor can imagina- 
 tion carve out for him that which his 
 condition requires in any other quar- 
 ter than the one where he has rejected 
 it. Behold him, then, aware of his re- 
 sponsibility to God, aware in some 
 degree of failure in the attempted dis- 
 charge of it, and yet destitute of every 
 
44 
 
 reasonable ground of conviction that 
 forgiveness and favor await him at 
 the divine tribunal ! Can he perse- 
 vere in efforts to attain peace of con- 
 science that have never yet proved 
 satisfactory, and that promise for the 
 future no better result? Can he go 
 on still in his endeavours to please a 
 Being on whose acceptance of him he 
 has no right and no reason to calcu- 
 late? The longer those endeavours 
 are continued, the more will his sense 
 of guilt, and consequent inquietude, 
 accumulate ; for every day will add 
 to the acknowledged amount of his 
 deficiencies and infractions of duty; 
 and a longer and still lengthening dis- 
 tance will stretch out between him 
 and the phantom of self-justification 
 which he pursues. Is it then unrea- 
 sonable to conclude, that as the expec- 
 tation of attaining his object declines, 
 the desire to attain it will diminish also 
 — that as he more deeply experiences 
 
45 
 
 the impracticable nature of his at- 
 tempt to satisfy conscience and come 
 up to the requirements of duty, his 
 zeal will gradually die into sullen apa- 
 thy (confirmed as he is in rejecting the 
 only cure of his condition), and he 
 will commence a retrograde career 
 whose limits none may define ? It is 
 morally impossible to serve God in 
 cheerful perseverance, without a well- 
 founded hope of finally finding his 
 favour. It belongs to our nature that 
 we must renounce the pursuit of what 
 our reason and experience have 
 joined in pronouncing unattainable. 
 Without the knowledge of his for- 
 giveness there can be no genuine and 
 abiding fear of God. The son, secure 
 of paternal affection, has a motive to 
 encourage him in a joyful acquiescence 
 with his fathers righteous will; but 
 the slave, conscious of guilt, and ap- 
 prehensive of retribution, whatever 
 service he may render to his master* 
 
46 
 
 cannot render him the service of the 
 heart* In the latter case, indeed, the 
 fear of immediate retribution operates, 
 and compels to an outward, but reluct- 
 ant and lifeless obedience — in the case 
 of the unenlightened sinner the dread 
 of a retribution which, except in the 
 visible approach of death, he ever 
 flatters himself is distant, will operate 
 with far less efficacy in producing the 
 outward and ill-borne restraint which 
 is all that at best it can ever produce. 
 We do not affirm that the whole of 
 this picture has ever been realized in 
 the history of any individual. On the 
 contrary we believe that just views of 
 our responsibility to the Supreme Be- 
 ing, with an unfeigned sense of moral 
 deficiency, will invariably issue in a 
 willingness to embrace the Gospel.* 
 We only affirm that could such views 
 and feelings issue in a confirmed rejec- 
 
 * John vii. 17. 
 
47 
 
 tion of the Gospel, such is human 
 nature, that the consequence we have 
 described must ensue. To feel as a 
 sinner ought to feel toward a righteous 
 God, and reject the only known or 
 rationally conceivable means of accept- 
 ance with Him, and then to persevere 
 in endeavouring to fulfil his require- 
 ments without an authorized hope of 
 his final approbation, we regard as a 
 moral impossibility. But if the unre- 
 claimable enemies of the Gospel reject 
 not it alone, but every sentiment which 
 demonstrably becomes them respect- 
 ing their relation to the Supreme 
 Being, and actual moral condition, as 
 it must lie before His view, how can 
 their conduct admit of vindication? 
 And such we believe to be universally 
 the fact. They cherish an ill-founded 
 estimate of their responsibility and 
 their state, and therefore see not the 
 necessity of the Gospel provisions. 
 They love to underrate duty, to think 
 
48 
 
 lightly of sin, and therefore despise 
 and dislike the salvation that makes 
 an end of sin, and brings in everlasting 
 acquittal. " Every one that doeth evil 
 hateth the light, lest his deeds should 
 be reproved." 
 
 2. It has, we hope, been satisfac- 
 torily shown that the fear of God, in 
 the true sense of the expression, can- 
 not be severed from reliance on the 
 Mediator. It is now to be shown that 
 the latter principle will ever be at- 
 tended by the former as its necessary 
 result — or that, according to the in- 
 timation of the Psalmist, the effect of 
 forgiveness communicated from God 
 will be that he shall be feared. This 
 is ihe great seeming paradox of Chris- 
 tianity. Assurance of forgiveness, in 
 the opinion of many, must undo the 
 springs of obedience, and induce 
 habitual indifference to the obligations 
 of moral principle. Why, say they, if 
 secure of divine favour, must the soul 
 
49 
 
 be any longer solicitous about it ? And 
 if exempt from all cause of solicitude 
 on that score, can she be expected to 
 toil and persevere in well-doing, as 
 when her toiling and persevering are 
 believed to earn her security? The 
 effect of forgiveness, we reply, depends 
 not on the mere fact of forgiveness, 
 but much more on the mode in which 
 forgiveness is conveyed. If it be so 
 conveyed as to leave the impression 
 on the receiver's mind that the guilt 
 remitted is of little or no moment in 
 the estimation of him who remits it, 
 it will evidently tend to slacken obe- 
 dience, by inducing the persuasion that 
 a renewal of guilt will be followed by 
 a similar impunity — and such is the 
 case of mere indulgence. But if it be 
 so conveyed as to impress the convic- 
 tion that while the guilty is absolved, 
 his guilt is abhorred by the very party 
 absolving him, it cannot induce the 
 habit of regarding duty as a light 
 
 F 
 
50 
 
 thing, because it will bring along with 
 it a well-grounded apprehension that 
 the guilt so remitted cannot always be 
 incurred with safety — and such is the 
 case of accepted atonement. And the 
 absolving party demonstrates his ab- 
 horrence of the guilt he forgives by 
 the magnitude of the atonement he 
 accepts — proportionable to which will 
 consequently be the tendency of the 
 whole transaction to deter the offender 
 from future transgression. If the 
 atonement accepted be such as not to 
 admit of being made again, so as to 
 leave no hope of renewed forgiveness 
 in case of reincurred guilt, this ten- 
 dency to deter from transgression will 
 exist in the greatest degree. A mas- 
 ter may, if his disposition lead him to 
 it, weakly indulge the criminality of a 
 servant, whose offences have rendered 
 him liable to legal penalties — and such 
 indulgence will obviously encourage 
 disobedience. Or he may, as a mat- 
 
51 
 
 ter of grace, accept satisfaction for the 
 wrong committed, where he could not 
 be required to accept it as a matter of 
 justice. According as the satisfaction 
 is more or less proportionable to the 
 wrong, it will more or less beneficially 
 influence the future conduct of the 
 offender, as it will more or less strik- 
 ingly demonstrate the hatred in which 
 his offence is held by him who has 
 wiped it out. If it be a satisfaction 
 that can never more be repeated, it 
 will powerfully plead against the repe- 
 tition of an offence for which forgive- 
 ness hae already exhausted her stores. 
 A mere manifestation of indulgence on 
 the part of God may be supposed ca- 
 pable of emboldening the guilt so 
 treated. But the acceptance of an 
 atonement on behalf of the guilty — of 
 an atonement fully proportioned to 
 the magnitude of their offence — of an 
 atonement that never can be made a 
 second time — declares the divine ha- 
 
52 
 
 tred of the offence in the most expres- 
 sive manner, and removing every pre- 
 text for future presumption on divine 
 lenity; sets up the most effectual 
 warning against a return into the path 
 of criminality. Such is the atonement 
 which God has accepted, an atonement 
 infinite in dignity, and incapable of 
 repetition, for in him, by whom it has 
 been offered, " dwelleth all the full- 
 ness of the Godhead bodily;" and 
 " Christ being raised from the dead 
 dieth no more, death hath no more 
 dominion over him ;" so that " if we 
 sin wilfully after we have received the 
 knowledge of the truth, there re- 
 maineth no more sacrifice for sin." 
 Thus the atonement of Christ — while 
 it holds out a sure hope of final ac- 
 ceptance, to him who relies upon it, 
 and furnishes him with the encourage- 
 ment without which it has been 
 proved impracticable to persevere in 
 the attempted service of God — at the 
 
53 
 
 same time demonstrating, by its uncal- 
 eulated magnitude, God's infinite ab- 
 horrence of the guilt for which it was 
 made, warns the accepted from a re- 
 currence to the rebellion for which no 
 second expiation remains. Not that 
 all sin is that rebellion. The recon- 
 ciled spirit is compassed with the in- 
 firmities of flesh, and by them incapa- 
 citated, while they continue, from 
 entire coincidence with the line of 
 undeviating perfection — but she is 
 willing to walk by it ; and wilful, deli- 
 berate, final desertion of it is now the 
 inexpiable offence. To that offence 
 indeed the enlightened mind is con- 
 scious every sin in itself tends, and 
 will therefore abhor the idea of indulg- 
 ing any. Hence while the belief of the 
 atonement supplies a peace with God 
 which no other source can supply, it 
 furnishes at once the animating, cheer- 
 ing impulse to obedience, and the po- 
 tent influence deterring from trans- 
 f2 
 
54 
 
 gression, which nothing else can ori- 
 ginate, and the sinner's condition re- 
 quires. The sense of safety it pro- 
 duces does not enfeeble the principle 
 of virtue, nor the control it imposes 
 lessen the sense of safety. It gives 
 birth to an authorized confidence of 
 present and final acceptance, thus 
 removing the obstacle to obedience 
 that existed before in the want of such 
 a confidence; and at the same time 
 implants a conviction of the deepest 
 nature that God and sin are for ever 
 irreconcileable, and no further inter- 
 position of his mercy can be expected 
 to throw oblivion over renewed and 
 final revolt. All sin is covered by the 
 atonement, except the continued re- 
 jection of it ; and such rejection is 
 implied in a final return to voluntary 
 guilt. This limitation is obviously 
 involved in the very nature of the 
 case. The atonement, received on the 
 sinners part, covers all sin, because it 
 
55 
 
 is of infinite dignity; but, if finally 
 scorned, leaves no hope of escape, for 
 then forgiveness itself, in its only ap- 
 pointed form, has been refused. 
 
 In this two-fold operation of diverse 
 yet compatible principles, animating 
 confidence and controlling awe, we 
 behold something wonderfully and 
 beautifully adapted to our nature and 
 condition. The profoundness of di- 
 vine wisdom is brought before us. 
 The exquisite adjustment, the happy 
 counterbalance, the peculiar effect, 
 bespeak the operation of a perfect 
 skill where all inferior had failed. 
 Superstition, philosophy, did each her 
 uttermost in vain— but the belief of an 
 atonement prevails ; and there is for- 
 giveness with God that he may be 
 feared. When some piece of most de- 
 licate workmanship is renovated by a 
 master-hand, after all others have 
 failed to touch its disordered springs 
 with effect, and restore their intended 
 
56 
 
 movements, we are at no loss where 
 to attribute its origin ; and the fact of 
 the Gospel having supplied the grand 
 desideratum in the moral condition of 
 man, will lead the thoughts of every 
 serious mind to God as its Author. 
 
57 
 
 SEBIOI III. 
 
 ON THE NATURE OF FAITH. 
 
 Rom. x. 9. 
 
 " If thou shalt confess with thy mouth 
 the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in 
 thy heart that God hath raised him 
 from the dead, thou shalt be saved." 
 
 A slight acquaintance with the Bible 
 is sufficient to show that the word 
 " heart" is there employed, not, as 
 with us, to denote the affections, but, 
 as among the ancients in general, to 
 denote the mind with all its powers. 
 Therefore as by us the word " mind" 
 is employed, whether the faculties, or 
 
58 
 
 the affections, be specially intended, 
 because of its signification compre- 
 hending both of these ; in like manner 
 is the word " heart" employed in the 
 Old and New Testaments. Thus we 
 read of loving with the heart, of under- 
 standing with the heart, and, in the 
 passage prefixed to this discourse, of 
 believing in the heart. If, indeed, faith 
 be not simple belief, but what many 
 learned theologians have deemed it, 
 confident expectation or trust, then the 
 heart, even in the modern use of the 
 term, may be regarded as in some mea- 
 sure the seat of faith. To a simple stu- 
 dent of divine truth, drawing his doc- 
 trines from the page of inspiration only, 
 and ignorant of the cloud of many con- 
 troversies that has settled over theo- 
 logy 5 it might be matter of surprise to 
 learn that a difference of opinion exists 
 concerning the nature of faith. It would 
 be interesting, and might be instruc- 
 tive, to observe the effect of a sudden 
 
59 
 
 disclosure of this fact, on the mind of 
 such a person. The pain which may 
 be supposed to accompany his surprise 
 would be diminished, however, when 
 he knew that if the wise and good 
 have differed on a subject apparently 
 so plain, they have been animated on 
 either side by a zeal unfeigned in the 
 cause of pure and undefiled religion. 
 
 Yet if it be an error to suppose faith 
 in religion different in kind from all 
 other faith, it is one not wholly un- 
 natural ; since religious faith un- 
 doubtedly differs from all other in 
 its object and origin, the one a di- 
 vine testimony, the other a divine 
 operation — and differs no less in its 
 importance, being indissolubly con- 
 nected with holiness of life, and with 
 everlasting salvation. Hence it has 
 by many been regarded as a compli- 
 cated and mysterious principle, whose 
 nature can be fully evolved only by the 
 profound investigations of philosophical 
 
60 
 
 theology ; and it has been thought in- 
 jurious to its acknowledged dignity 
 and importance, to imagine that we 
 believe even the testimony of God in 
 the very same way wherein we believe 
 any other. 
 
 The question whether a doctrine be 
 Scriptural or not, can obviously be de- 
 cided only by an appeal to the Scrip- 
 tures. If it be found substantiated by 
 their declarations, and accordant with 
 their tenor, abstract argument may 
 commend, but cannot overturn it. 
 Most plausible theories are every day 
 amended, or falsified, by experience ; 
 and such cannot for a moment be 
 rationally opposed to the wisdom of 
 God. The strongest arguments in 
 favor of any doctrine conceived to form 
 a part in the system of revealed reli- 
 gion, must, therefore, be those which 
 are drawn directly from Revelation 
 itself. We now proceed to examine 
 the arguments of this nature adduced 
 
61 
 
 in support of the opinion that the faith 
 of Scripture is not simple belief, but 
 confident expectation, or trust. 
 
 1. It is important here to observe 
 that the evidence from criticism ad- 
 duced in support of this opinion is 
 principally defensive. It has been 
 established, that the word for ff faith" 
 in the original New Testament is ca- 
 pable of a two-fold application, and has 
 actually been employed by the inspired 
 w r riters, not only in the simple meaning 
 of belief, but also in the complex 
 meaning of trust. On the opposite 
 side, the principal evidence adduced 
 from criticism has a more than defen- 
 sive character. It has been established, 
 that of the two meanings of which the 
 original word is capable, belief is the 
 primary r , and trust a derivative mean- 
 ing ; and since it may be fairly con- 
 sidered a sound rule of interpretation, 
 never to depart from the primary 
 meaning of a word, unless where the 
 
 G 
 
62 
 
 tenor of the context indicates another, 
 it follows, in the case in question, that 
 " belief" is the natural rendering, from 
 which every departure will require to 
 be defended. In favor of the one 
 rendering, and consequently against 
 the other, there exists a general pre- 
 sumption. In all passages, therefore, 
 wherein either rendering in itself may 
 be equally applicable, " belief," as the 
 natural one, ought to be preferred; 
 and we hope to shew hereafter that 
 such a principle of interpretation, 
 undeniably just, arranges under the 
 natural rendering a great majority of 
 passages. In most of those commonly 
 quoted to prove that faith is trust, it 
 will appear that the meaning of belief 
 is at least equally reconcileable with 
 the context. 
 
 That persuasion or belief is the pri- 
 mary, and trust a derivative meaning, 
 of the original word, will be clear to 
 the English reader, when he remem- 
 
63 
 
 bers that so much is constantly af- 
 firmed on one, and admitted on the 
 other, side of the present argument. 
 Concerning the corresponding word 
 in the Hebrew original an equally ge- 
 neral admission is not made ; but since 
 the New Testament is an infallible 
 commentary on the Old, when we have 
 been enabled to fix the meaning of a 
 word in the former, the meaning of 
 the word corresponding with it in the 
 latter may be considered as fixed at 
 the same time. The radical idea of 
 the Hebrew word for faith is admitted 
 to be stability ; from which the mean- 
 ing of belief, or firm persuasion, may 
 be, at least, as naturally derived, as 
 that of trust.* 
 
 * Nor ought it to be forgotten that for trust, in 
 the original language of the Old Testament, is found 
 an additional word, which all allow is never rendered 
 in the version of the Seventy with the same word as 
 the other is — a fact for which ingenuity on the other 
 side of the present question can only account by re- 
 
64 
 
 In thus pleading evidence furnished 
 by criticism against the opinion we 
 have - ventured to dispute, it will be 
 seen that we have proceeded solely on 
 the ground of admissions made by 
 those who support it. Such a mode of 
 reasoning may be appreciated by those 
 on whom, from want of acquaintance 
 with the original Scriptures, any criti- 
 cal research on our own side of the 
 
 ferring it to the observance of a rule which the In- 
 terpreters thought fit to adopt. If we ask why they 
 adopted such a rule, what reply can be given, but 
 that they were influenced by some apprehended rea- 
 son — and what reason can be imagined except their 
 conviction, that to the one Hebrew word belongs 
 primarily the meaning of belief, and that of trust to 
 the other ? The version of the seventy Interpreters 
 is not, indeed, an infallible commentary ; but com- 
 posed, as it was, by the learned of an age when an- 
 cient Greek was a living tongue, and Hebrew had 
 not wholly ceased to be so, there is a presumption 
 that it must throw some peculiar light on the com- 
 parative obscurity of the one by the more familiar 
 phraseology of the other. 
 
65 
 
 question could hardly be expected to 
 produce effect. 
 
 2. In bringing forward passages of 
 Scripture as decisive evidence for any 
 opinion, it is obviously not enough to 
 prove them capable of a sense favora- 
 ble to it ; it ought also to be shown 
 that they are incapable of any other. 
 By the former proceeding the opinion 
 is only reconciled with the quoted 
 passages ; by the latter it is established 
 upon them- Yet in theological discus- 
 sion this has not always been remem- 
 bered ; and in the case before us there 
 are not wanting instances wherein it 
 has been overlooked. A number of 
 passages have been adduced where the 
 word faith will bear the sense of trust 9 
 consistently with their general tenor ; 
 and then the question whether faith be 
 trust, or simple belief, has been con- 
 sidered as decided. But it was not 
 considered that if the word faith ex- 
 plained as belief leave the tenor of 
 g2 
 
66 
 
 those passages unviolated, evidence 
 decisive of the question at issue must 
 be sought elsewhere. One or two ex- 
 amples will illustrate this. " When 
 he was entered into a ship his disciples 
 followed him. And behold there arose 
 a great tempest in the sea, insomuch 
 that the ship was covered with the 
 waves : but he was asleep. And his 
 disciples came to him, and awoke him, 
 saying, Lord, save us : we perish. And 
 he saith unto them, why are ye fearful, 
 O ye of little faith ?"* "Behold a 
 woman which was diseased with an 
 issue of blood twelve years, came be- 
 hind him, and touched the hem of his 
 garment ; for she said within herself, 
 if I may but touch his garment, I shall 
 be whole. But Jesus turned him 
 about, and when he saw her, he said, 
 Daughter, be of good comfort; thy 
 faith hath made thee whole."^ On the 
 
 * Matt. 8. f Matt, 9. 
 
67 
 
 former occasion here described, it is 
 admitted there was a want of trust in 
 the miraculous protecting power of 
 Christ ; and, explaining faith as trust, 
 you certainly preserve the harmony of 
 the whole account. But it is equally 
 clear, that in supposingbelief of Christ's 
 almighty power was weak, and want 
 of trust in him the consequence, and 
 in explaining faith as belief — the har- 
 mony of the account is still preserved. 
 On the latter occasion described, it is 
 admitted there was a trust reposed in 
 the miraculous power of Christ ; but, 
 if that trust resulted from a firm per- 
 suasion of the reality of his miraculous 
 power, and of his goodness, here also 
 faith may be consistently explained as 
 belief. The disciples were rebuked for 
 the fears which indicated that, after 
 all they had witnessed of the works, 
 and experienced of the loving-kind- 
 ness of their Lord, a firm persuasion 
 of his readiness and ability to save 
 
68 
 
 had not yet been suffered to settle in 
 their minds. The woman healed is 
 described as led by such a persuasion 
 to repose her confidence in Christ ; and 
 virtually admonished by him that this 
 persuasion only, not her merit, had 
 opened the way for the miracle per- 
 formed in her behalf. The same re- 
 marks equally apply to a multitude of 
 other passages, with which every 
 serious person is so familiar, that the 
 quotation of them with a similar com- 
 ment is unnecessary here. 
 
 If we allow there are passages 
 wherein " faith" bears exclusively the 
 meaning of trust, be it remembered 
 that this is not enough to justify the 
 opinion now called in question. In 
 order to prove that faith is not simple 
 belief, it would be necessary to prove 
 that the word is not limited to that 
 sense in any one passage, bearing on 
 the doctrine of justification. A single 
 text) irreconcileable with an opinion. 
 
69 
 
 overthrows it ; and a single text inti- 
 mating that justifying faith is simple 
 belief, can never be reconciled with 
 the opinion that it is something more. 
 On the other hand, in order to estab- 
 lish that faith is simple belief, one in- 
 stance wherein the word is incapable 
 of any other sense, in a passage bear- 
 ing on the doctrine of justification, 
 will be enough to decide the point ; for 
 with such a passage may be recon- 
 ciled not only all those before alluded 
 to, in which the word is capable of 
 either sense, but even those wherein 
 it is exclusively limited to that of 
 trust. The latter admit of easy ex- 
 planation, consistent with the opinion, 
 that we are justified by simple belief, 
 of which belief trust in the Saviour is 
 the natural effect. If we are exhorted 
 to believe the Gospel, and belief of it 
 naturally produces trust in its Divine 
 Author, we may be consistently ex- 
 horted to trust in Him, and thereby 
 
70 
 
 give evidence to ourselves, that we do 
 believe. If the belief by which we 
 are justified naturally gives rise to 
 the hope of glory, and that hope ope- 
 rates as a preservative in the soul 
 amid the difficulties of the Christian 
 way, it is affirmed consistently with 
 our justification being through belief 
 of the truth, that " we are saved by 
 hope" — for which trust, we allow, is 
 but a stronger term — or that our 
 " confidence hath great recompense of 
 reward" — in which sentence, we allow, 
 the original word for confidence is 
 equivalent to that for faith in one of 
 its applications. 
 
 One text would be sufficient to de- 
 cide that faith is simple belief — but 
 we are not restricted to one. Many 
 more might be adduced than we could 
 conveniently illustrate within the li- 
 mits of a single discourse. " We 
 walk by faith, not by sight."* Here 
 
 * 2 Cors. v. 7. 
 
n 
 
 faith and sight are evidently con- 
 trasted. But sight and trust are com- 
 patible. An object of sight may be 
 also an object of trust. When the 
 servant of the prophet beheld, with 
 eyes miraculously opened, a heavenly 
 host arrayed between him and the 
 hostile Syrian army, he saw, and there- 
 fore was confident. Sight and trust 
 cannot, then, be properly contrasted. 
 But nothing can be at once an object 
 of belief, and an object of sight. What 
 we see exists, is before the eye of 
 sense ; but what we believe exists, is 
 before the eye of understanding alone. 
 Belief and sight may be therefore con- 
 trasted with propriety. The former 
 must, consequently, be the exclusive 
 meaning of faith, in the passage above 
 quoted. 
 
 " He that believeth on the Son of 
 God hath the witness in himself; he 
 that believeth not God hath made 
 him a liar ; because he believeth not the 
 
72 
 
 record that God gave of his Son"* 
 Here believing on the Son of God, or 
 faith in him, is placed in opposition 
 with not believing- God — with making 
 Him a liar — with not believing the 
 record that He has given of his Son. 
 We surely know what faith is, when 
 we know what is the opposite of it. 
 Not believing the record that God 
 gave of his Son is a matter too simple 
 to need much explanation. A record 
 is properly the object of belief or dis- 
 belief — a person that of trust or dis- 
 trust. The rejection of divine truth 
 must, indeed, be followed by distrust 
 of the Saviour whom it reveals ; but 
 the unbelief that rejects, and the con- 
 sequent distrust are wholly distinct. 
 Faith, then, being the opposite of un- 
 belief, must, be simply, belief of the 
 record that God has given of his Son. 
 
 This will be, perhaps, more strik- 
 ingly apparent from the case of the 
 
 * 1 John v. 10. 
 
73 
 
 Ethiopian eunuch, related in the Acts 
 of the Apostles. " A man of Ethiopia, 
 an eunuch of great authority under 
 Candace, queen of the Ethiopians, who 
 had the charge of all her treasure, and 
 had come up to Jerusalem to worship, 
 was returning, and sitting in his cha- 
 riot read Esaias the prophet. Then 
 the Spirit said unto Philip, go near, 
 and join thyself to this chariot. And 
 Philip ran thither to him, and heard 
 him read the prophet Esaias, and said, 
 understandest thou what thou readest ? 
 And he said, how can I, except some 
 man should guide me? And he de- 
 sired Philip that he would come up, 
 and sit with him. The place of the 
 Scripture which he read was this : He 
 was led as a sheep to the slaughter ; 
 and like a lamb dumb before his 
 shearer, so opened he not his mouth : 
 in his humiliation his judgment was 
 taken away ; and who shall declare 
 his generation? for his life is taken 
 
 H 
 
74 
 
 from the earth. And the eunuch an- 
 swered Philip, and said, I pray thee of 
 whom speaketh the prophet this ? Of 
 himself, or of some other man ? Then 
 Philip opened his mouth, and began at 
 the same Scripture, and preached unto 
 him Jesus. And as they went on their 
 way, they came unto a certain water; 
 and the eunuch said, see, here is wa- 
 ter ; what doth hinder me to be bap- 
 tized? And Philip said, If thou he- 
 lievest tvith all thine heart, thou mayest. 
 And he answered and said, J believe 
 that Jesus Christ is the Son of God. 
 And he commanded the chariot to 
 stand still : and they went down both 
 into the water, both Philip and the 
 eunuch ; and he baptized him"* Here 
 it is evident that the faith considered 
 by the inspired Evangelist as a prere- 
 quisite for baptism on the part of the 
 eunuch, was simple belief. On the 
 
 * Acts viii. 
 
75 
 
 solemn profession of his belief " that 
 Jesus Christ is the Son of God," he 
 was admitted into Christian fellowship 
 by one under the special guidance of 
 the Spirit of God. And if the uncon- 
 tradicted profession of that belief 
 united him to the visible church of 
 Christ, the unfeigned possession of it 
 united him, doubtless, to the invisible 
 church of God's elect. 
 
 We may therefore employ in its 
 plain import an Apostle's language — 
 " if thou shalt confess with thy mouth 
 the Lord Jesus, and shalt believe in 
 thy heart that God hath raised him 
 from the dead, thou shalt be saved.'' 
 Here is no mention of the feeling of 
 trust. The faith that saves is here 
 evidently the belief concerning Jesus, 
 that he is Lord of all, and that after 
 his vicarious sufferings, God raised him 
 from the dead. He who thoroughly 
 believes the reality of these things will, 
 indeed, as the natural consequence, re- 
 
76 
 
 pose in Jesus a trust which will ani- 
 mate him to the bold confession of His 
 name, and to the performance of every 
 other duty demanded with the claims of 
 a Redeemer. Still we have seen that 
 " belief of the truth" is all which en- 
 ters into the essence of faith : that must 
 ever be distinguished from the effects 
 of it. 
 
 But we are told that an apostolical 
 exposition of the nature of faith, op- 
 posed to the views now advocated, is 
 contained in the Epistle to the He- 
 brews — " faith is the substance of 
 things hoped for" — which some would 
 alter thus, " faith is the confident eoc- 
 pectation of things hoped for." The 
 word for " substance" in the original 
 will undoubtedly, of itself, bear the 
 meaning thus assigned to it ; although 
 it be a derivative only, and not the 
 primary, meaning. But observe the 
 effect of such a rendering on the whole 
 passage — "faith is the confident ea?- 
 
77 
 
 pectation of things hoped for/' or ex- 
 pected — which would reduce the lan- 
 guage of inspiration, in this instance, 
 to a vain tautology. There is surely 
 abundant reason against departing 
 to such an interpretation from the na- 
 tural and consistent one of our autho- 
 rized version. 
 
 3. We shall now consider some ob- 
 jections which are brought against the 
 opinion we endeavour to substantiate. 
 A tendency unfavorable to virtue has 
 been attributed to it. If nothing more 
 be declared necessary for justification 
 than simple belief of the Gospel ; will 
 not this, it is demanded, give fatal 
 encouragement to the false security of 
 the antinomian, and lend to the direst 
 perversion of religion her seeming 
 countenance ? Let the word belief be 
 exchanged for that of faith, and we 
 have here the common objection made 
 against the doctrine of justification by 
 faith only, independent of the question 
 h2 
 
78 
 
 concerning the nature of faith. Justi- 
 fication by trust alone, may be, and 
 actually is, objected to, no less than 
 justification by belief alone. If a man 
 be secure of eternal safety when he 
 has once trusted in the Redeemer, 
 then, it is imagined, he may, and will, 
 live as he pleases. What is replied in 
 such a case ? It is replied, that trust 
 in the Redeemer will be productive of 
 love to Him, and reverence toward his 
 authority, and therefore will be pro- 
 ductive of holiness. The justice of 
 this reply obviously depends on the 
 reality of the effects attributed to the 
 principle of trust in Christ. If the 
 effects attributed be real, the objection 
 is fully met, and the Gospel, as repre- 
 sented, is triumphantly vindicated 
 from the charge of unhallowing ten- 
 dencies. That they are real, we are 
 firmly persuaded. We believe the 
 constitution of the human mind must 
 be essentially altered, ere trust un- 
 
79 
 
 feignedly reposed in the Redeemer can 
 fail to awaken love and reverence to- 
 ward him, or such feelings fail to re- 
 generate the heart and character. To 
 the same objection, made against the 
 doctrine of justification "through be- 
 lief of the truth/' we bring the same 
 mode of reply. Belief of the Gospel 
 will be productive of trust in its Au- 
 thor, and consequently of all the effects 
 which are justly attributed to that 
 feeling. If this be true, the objection 
 is equally obviated in the present in- 
 stance, as in the former. That it is 
 true, and arises also out of the consti- 
 tution of the human mind, we shall 
 endeavour to prove under a subsequent 
 head of this discourse. 
 
 But if such be the effects of belief, 
 why, it will be asked, do we read that 
 " devils believe and tremble" — that 
 ".Simon himself believed also," of 
 whom, immediately subsequent to be- 
 lief, it is recorded that he had neither 
 
80 
 
 part nor lot in the matter, for his heart 
 was not right in the sight of God? 
 The effects of any truth believed will 
 evidently depend on the nature of the 
 truth, and the relation it bears to the 
 person believing it. The same truth 
 will have different effects according to 
 the different views we take of it, and 
 the different relations in which we 
 stand toward it — if indeed it can then 
 be said to be the same. Other causes 
 may modify, or hinder, the influence of 
 truth, but that cannot concern the pre- 
 sent argument. Now it will be granted, 
 that although fallen angels know the 
 certainty of that truth which God 
 has revealed to man, it is a truth which 
 bears to them no relation such as it 
 bears to us. Our Mediator took not 
 up the cause of angels, but that of the 
 children of Adam. The Gospel has no 
 tidings of joy for them. The strain of 
 its invitation can never sound within 
 the precincts of their doomed and de- 
 
81 
 
 solate world. Hence it is impossible 
 that the Gospel can be contemplated 
 by them, as it may be contemplated 
 by men — unless we will suppose that 
 any creature can have a nature that 
 delights in agony, and loves the image 
 of its own just and irreversible con- 
 demnation. The Gospel that proposes 
 pardon to men, records the final doom 
 of devils. They therefore believe it 
 and tremble. — It will scarcely be de- 
 nied that the sorcerer had incorrect 
 views of religion, when he imagined 
 " that the gift of God might be pur- 
 chased with money." Struck with the 
 miracles which he witnessed, he "be- 
 lieved" the men by whose intervention 
 they were performed to be invested 
 with a commission from Heaven, while 
 of the spirit of their doctrine he was 
 entirely ignorant. His mind was en- 
 grossed by other things — and the 
 miraculous powers of the Apostolic 
 office appeared to him chiefly in the 
 
82 
 
 light of a valuable and purehaseable 
 substitute for his own juggling art* 
 He believed, but not the truth as it is 
 in Jesus. He did not believe the Gos- 
 pel in its applicability to himself. He 
 did not realize his condition as a sin- 
 ner, and the all-sufficiency of redemp- 
 tion. Therefore his heart was un- 
 sanctified. Similar observations apply 
 to the case of those who have assented 
 on evidence to the divine origin of 
 Christianity, and continued unin- 
 fluenced by her doctrines. They may 
 even comprehend, and receive as true, 
 the whole system of Christian divinity, 
 and yet not believe the Gospel in ap- 
 plication to themselves. That which 
 every genuine disciple of Christ be- 
 lieves is the Gospel as it concerns his 
 own soul. This no natural man be- 
 lieves, for he believes not the real con- 
 dition of his soul. An unregenerate 
 person will never be found to entertain 
 just views of his own character and 
 
83 
 
 state before Gocl. He may seem to 
 entertain them ; but look farther, and 
 you will find them wanting. They are 
 not the deep and abiding convictions 
 of his mind. Wherever such are, grace 
 is, and will be manifested. Hence it 
 is impossible that the views of the un- 
 regenerate should produce the Chris- 
 tian character, since they are not the 
 views of a Christian. The thing be- 
 lieved in the two cases is really 
 different. All that a genuine disciple 
 believes of Christianity in application 
 to himself is indeed deducible from the 
 truth that the records of Christianity 
 are divine ; but truth may be believed 
 without drawing every inference de- 
 ducible from it ; and when this is not 
 done, the influence of additional truth 
 which might thus be acquired, cannot, 
 of course, be experienced. 
 
 4. The feeling of trust arises in 
 every instance from something known 
 or believed. The order of mental 
 
84 
 
 proceeding is not originally from trust 
 to belief, but from belief to trust. The 
 idea of trust in fact presupposes be- 
 lief—it is universally admitted to be a 
 complex state of mind wherein belief 
 and expectation coexist, as it were, in 
 combination. Are we then justified 
 by the feeling of trust, or by the pa- 
 rent principle which produces it ? In 
 searching after the principle by means 
 of which our justification is effected, 
 may w r e not assume as certain that it 
 will be found in the originating germ 
 of personal religion, whatever that 
 may be ? And in tracing personal re- 
 ligion up to its commencement in the 
 soul, will it not be found in that be- 
 lief from which alone the feeling of 
 trust can arise, and repentance, love, 
 joy, heavenly-mindedness, and every 
 other Christian grace ? Why do you 
 confide? Because you believe the 
 promises of God. Why do you re- 
 pent ? Because you also believe the 
 
85 
 
 threatenings of God. Why do you 
 love? Why do you rejoice? Be- 
 cause you believe that Christ loved 
 you, and gave himself for you. Why 
 are you heavenly-minded? Because 
 you believe that Heaven is your pur- 
 chased inheritance. There is not a 
 single grace of the Christian state on 
 earth, which is not the offspring of 
 belief. Is it, then, by the fountain- 
 principle we are justified, or by one of 
 the effects that flow from it? Now, 
 it is conceded on the other side that 
 faith is the gift and work of God in the 
 soul, while it is maintained to be a 
 complex state of mind, implying 
 both expectation and belief. If it be 
 wholly the creation of divine influence, 
 then it is so as implying belief, no 
 less than as implying expectation. 
 But if the belief of a genuine disciple 
 be the work of the spirit of God, is he 
 who is thus the subject of His opera- 
 tion left unjustified, until his belief has 
 i 
 
86 
 
 become strong enough to issue in con- 
 fidence ? For although belief of the 
 Gospel naturally produces confidence 
 in its Divine Author, and ever tends to 
 produce it, few will be disposed to 
 deny, that in many instances a mind 
 enlightened from above has long be- 
 lieved, ere a feeling of confidence in 
 God could be realized. Such is the 
 ordinary childhood of faith. 
 
 A truth which is not supposed in 
 any degree to involve our interest 
 may be believed without influencing 
 our conduct ; but not so a truth which 
 is known deeply to involve it. The 
 truth of the Newtonian system may 
 be firmly believed without a single ac- 
 tion resulting, because it cannot con- 
 cern the personal interest of any indi- 
 vidual by what laws the order of na- 
 ture is maintained, while eternal Pro- 
 vidence actually maintains it. But 
 the fact of a wide-spreading confla- 
 gration, actually touching his own 
 
87 
 
 dwelling, may not be believed by any 
 man in the enjoyment of his faculties 
 and his freedom, without some effect 
 on his conduct being produced. It is, 
 in like manner, morally impossible to 
 believe a wrath impending over us, 
 and not flee from it — to realize salva- 
 tion offered to us, and not embrace it. 
 The relation of the truth to him who 
 believes it, is such as to render its 
 effect, when believed, actually inevit- 
 able. 
 
 5. Faith and hope are distinct — for, 
 says the apostle, " now abideth faith, 
 hope, charity, these three." But if 
 faith be trust, the distinction is gone — 
 for it is admitted that trust is only a 
 modification of hope. The latter, 
 like the former, implies expectation 
 and belief ; they only differ in degree, 
 trust being a name expressive of the 
 stronger degrees of hope. There is no 
 possible way of obviating this ; and 
 such has been the candid acknow- 
 
88 
 
 ledgement of some of the ablest wri- 
 ters on the opposite side of the ques- 
 tion. 
 
 6. If there be one principle more 
 strongly stated, or more carefully es- 
 tablished, than another, by the in- 
 spired writers of the New Testament, 
 it is this — that salvation is of grace, 
 not of debt — in every instance wholly 
 due to divine mercy, not in any de- 
 gree to human desert. This will be 
 readily admitted on the other side. 
 Now an Apostle has recorded that 
 salvation is " of faith, that it might be 
 by grace' — or, faith has been by the 
 divine wisdom selected as the medium 
 of our justification, that the freeness of 
 justification, and its exclusive origin 
 in the grace of God, might be secured 
 and manifested. Hence we may con- 
 clusively argue that whatever faith be, 
 it involves nothing of merit, it is not 
 a moral virtue — for if it were, our jus- 
 tification would depend, in part at least, 
 
89 
 
 on our moral goodness, and so would 
 not be wholly of grace. But if faith 
 be trust in God, it is essentially a 
 moral virtue, as has been expressly 
 admitted on the other side, particularly 
 by a late eminent theologian.* And 
 if, after all, our justification before God 
 be effected through the medium of a 
 moral virtue in ourselves, how is salva- 
 tion free — how is it wholly of grace ? 
 It may be answered, that God implants 
 within us the moral virtue by which 
 we are justified, and thus our justifica- 
 tion is still due to him alone — but the 
 same defence is offered every day for 
 the doctrine of justification by works, 
 every legalist admitting with Bossuet, 
 that our good works are so many gifts 
 of divine grace. Yet an Apostle de- 
 
 * While fully sharing in the just veneration which 
 every Christian mast feel for the talents and piety 
 of President Dwight, I may be allowed without sus- 
 picion of disrespect to either, to refer to his " Theo- 
 logy*" in proof of the assertion made above, 
 
 i2 
 
90 
 
 clares " it is not of works lest any man 
 should boast" — justification must not 
 be the effect of works, from whatever 
 source they proceed, for if it were, 
 pride would be the consequence, in a 
 nature fallen as ours. But if faith be 
 a moral virtue, it is, in Scriptural lan- 
 guage, a work (as every one familiar 
 with the New Testament will acknow- 
 ledge), and if we are justified by faith 
 so explained, we are justified by a work. 
 On the other hand, belief, although it 
 is productive of every virtue, does not 
 in itself involve the nature of any ; it 
 is a simple act of the understanding, 
 distinct from every affection, and there- 
 fore having in it nothing moral. Hence 
 being justified by simple belief of the 
 divine testimony, our justification is 
 purely free, it is entirely of grace — it 
 is effected in such a way as to exclude 
 every pretext for pride, and at the 
 same time every just cause of guilty 
 fear. — The importance of all this to 
 
91 
 
 our comfort may be easily shown. If 
 we are justified by confidence in God, 
 we can only recognize our justification 
 as often as we recognize this moral 
 virtue within us. Need it be remarked 
 how often the timid yet sincere be- 
 liever may fail to discover, to his own 
 satisfaction, its existence in his bosom ? 
 He can at all times declare, I know in 
 whom I have believed and do believe 
 — he cannot always feel the vigorous 
 actings of belief in full and assured 
 confidence in God ; if his justification 
 were dependant on the latter, he might 
 be a humble believer, adorning his 
 profession by his life, and yet con- 
 sistently feel himself in a state of con- 
 demnation before God. If it please 
 divine wisdom to bring a cloud of 
 despondency over the prospects of his 
 soul, he has, on such a supposition, no 
 right to commune w 7 ith Heaven out of 
 the midst of his thick darkness.— The 
 Apostle Peter was taught of God, con- 
 
92 
 
 sequently a genuine believer, and con- 
 sequently justified, before his denial 
 of his Lord — at the period of his 
 fall he obviously exercised no confi- 
 dence in God, and therefore if we are 
 justified by confidence, he on that 
 occasion forfeited his justification. 
 But our blessed Lord has declared 
 that the believer " shall never perish" 
 nor come into condemnation. That 
 justification, once effected, is final, will, 
 indeed, be admitted on the other side 
 of this argument. Peter it appears, 
 then, was a believer, but a weak one, 
 yet finally justified, before, and even 
 during, his fall, when faith was too 
 feeble in him to sustain such a con- 
 fidence in God as was needful to give 
 him triumph over his powerful temp- 
 tation. By virtue and in right of his 
 final justification, he was raised and 
 recovered, he was given grace to re- 
 pent, and thenceforth live devoted to 
 Him who restored him. On the other 
 
93 
 
 hand we are persuaded that belief of 
 the truth, however it may be over- 
 borne in its influence by the power of 
 temptation, and in a season of spiritual 
 declension, can never, even for a time, 
 be wholly eradicated from the mind 
 wherein it has once been divinely im- 
 planted. " I have prayed for thee 
 that thy faith fail not" was said to 
 Peter, by him whose intercession can 
 never be vain, and who while thus 
 praying for him, foresaw and foretold 
 his subsequent temptation with the re- 
 sult of it. Peter's faith was therefore 
 counteracted for a while, but, even 
 while thus counteracted, failed not 
 utterly. While he denied his Re- 
 deemer with an oath, he knew him. 
 It was this that smote him, when 
 Jesus turned and looked upon him, in 
 the hour of his sin. It is thus with 
 every backslider who has truly known 
 the Lord. " If we sin wilfully after 
 we have received the knowledge of the 
 
94 
 
 truth, there remaineth no more sacri- 
 fice for sin" — the child of God, once 
 enlightened, is therefore kept, in his 
 season of declension, from that utter 
 rejection of divine truth which would 
 involve wilful and unpardonable sin, 
 A man however may seem to believe, 
 and then apostatize, and afterwards 
 come indeed to the knowledge of the 
 truth. 
 
 7. Before we leave the present sub- 
 ject, it may not be amiss to notice an 
 interesting inquiry with which it is re- 
 lated — why is faith essential to justifi- 
 cation? That it is so by divine ap- 
 pointment is evident, for while it is 
 written " being justified by faith we 
 have peace with God" — it is declared 
 of him who believes not that " the 
 wrath of God abideth on him." The 
 solution of this inquiry offered by a 
 celebrated writer, is, that faith has been 
 chosen as the instrument of our justifi- 
 cation, because it is that whereby we are 
 
95 
 
 united to Christ. It may appear pre- 
 sumptuous to question an opinion re- 
 commended by the profound intellect 
 and preeminent piety of such a writer* 
 — but truth ought to be dearer even 
 than his name. Our objection to his 
 answer is founded on the consideration 
 that it requires explanation no less 
 than the thing professedly explained 
 by it; and even when this second ex- 
 planation bas been obtained, it fails to 
 afford satisfaction. " We are justified 
 by faith (he says) because it is faith 
 that unites to Christ." But then the 
 question presents itself, in what sense 
 does faith unite to Christ? And the 
 answer must be, in a figurative sense 
 only. If it were in a literal sense, and 
 we by faith actually participated in the 
 divine essence of Christ, nothing could 
 be clearer than the reason why justifi- 
 cation has been annexed to faith — for 
 
 * President Edwards. 
 
96 
 
 we should, in that case, by faith possess, 
 inherently in ourselves, the very righ- 
 teousness of Christ. But faith unites 
 to Christ only in a figurative sense. 
 We are judicially considered one with 
 him, by the imputation of his righte- 
 ousness; and we imbibe, imperfectly 
 indeed, his mind and character, on 
 believing his Gospel. Now the very 
 difficulty in question is, why the impu- 
 tation of Christ's righteousness has 
 been connected with faith ? Might we 
 venture to suggest a reply it would be 
 to the following effect. To leave in 
 open revolt against the divine authority 
 one who is justified, were manifestly 
 inconsistent with the divine character. 
 It is by faith, or belief of revealed 
 truth, that we lay down the standard 
 of revolt, accept the Gospel amnesty, 
 and pass into a state of reconciliation 
 with God. Hence appears the pro- 
 priety with which faith has been 
 essentially connected with justification. 
 
97 
 
 That God might be just while justifying 
 the ungodly, it was needful to bring 
 him, coincidently with his justification, 
 into a state of reconciliation. This he 
 effects by implanting in his mind belief 
 of the Gospel. It is not that we are 
 justified by the meritorious nature of 
 our submission to God, for the latter is 
 not faith, but its effect — he who jus- 
 tifies, at the same time imparts the 
 gift of faith, whereby he reconciles us 
 to himself. Belief of the Gospel, hav- 
 ing in itself nothing of a moral nature, 
 yet being in its operation uniformly 
 instrumental to our reconciliation with 
 God, has been unalterably connected 
 with our justification, to secure both 
 the freeness of it, and its consistency 
 with the character of God. 
 

 ON THE GUILT OF UNBELIEF. 
 John iii. 19. 
 
 " 77m* is the condemnation, that light is 
 come into the world, and men loved 
 darkness rather than light, because 
 their deeds were evil." 
 
 When the author of the Paradise 
 Lost represents the fallen angels as 
 attempting to charm away with intel- 
 lectual exercise the horrors of their 
 awful condition, he assigns for the 
 subject of their reasonings, " fixed fate, 
 free will, foreknowledge absolute," and 
 tells us that of their deliberations they 
 " found no end, in wandering mazes 
 
99 
 
 lost." An intelligence, superior to 
 human, might indeed be consistently 
 represented as baffled by a theme so 
 intricate and profound ; and devils 
 might without impropriety be de- 
 scribed as prying into secrets of om- 
 niscience unnecessary to be known, 
 and impossible to be discovered. But 
 although there are quicksands here, 
 in which the most keen-eyed explorers 
 have lost themselves, there is in the 
 vicinity certain solid ground, whereon 
 the understanding, guided by Revela- 
 tion, may carry on a successful in- 
 quiry ; and although beyond a certain 
 limit we can find none to conduct us 
 but a presumptuous and vain curiosity, 
 yet up to that limit the humility of 
 Christians may attend us, and no un- 
 profitable return await the labour of 
 investigation. Human life is too limited 
 to afford leisure more than sufficient 
 for the pursuit of what is useful ; our 
 good ought therefore to be the aim of 
 
100 
 
 our inquiries ; and until the mine of 
 real wisdom be exhausted, let that of 
 barren speculation be neglected. Ex- 
 perience has manifested, that the 
 Creator has so constituted all things, 
 and so narrowed the faculties of man, 
 that what is needful to be apprehended 
 lies within the reach of inquiry, and 
 what is not essential to our well-being 
 is alone beyond our attainment. It 
 is the overlooking of this maxim that 
 has given occasion to so many a fai- 
 lure in the case under our considera- 
 tion ; but with such a clue in our 
 hands we may enter and escape the 
 labyrinth. 
 
 In the words selected as the sub- 
 ject of our present discourse, the 
 Redeemer denounces the rejection of 
 his Gospel as criminal — it shall be our 
 endeavour to expound his solemn cle- 
 4 claration, and commend it to your 
 consciences. We have undertaken to 
 prove that unbelief is justly punish- 
 
101 
 
 able by the jurisdiction of heaven ; and 
 that neither the revealed doctrine of 
 our natural depravity, nor that of di- 
 vine predestination, can in any wise 
 affect the responsibility of man. It 
 will easily be granted, that if such in- 
 deed shall prove the truth, in the great 
 day, when all controversies are to be 
 decided, it is a matter of no small im- 
 portance whether we are now lulled 
 into moral lethargy by the fearful de- 
 lusion that no accountability attaches 
 to our state, or roused into salutary 
 alarm, by a just view of that account- 
 ability, and led to serious reflection on 
 our condition before God. 
 
 1. We are far from denying that the 
 Scriptures attribute to human nature, 
 not merely a liability to moral evil, 
 but an actual moral depravity. They 
 do not, like the wise of the world, re- 
 present man as born originally fair, 
 but frail — as bringing into the arena 
 of life a nature unsullied as the driven 
 k2 
 
102 
 
 snow, but subsequently borne down and 
 fouled in a crowd of powerful tempta- 
 tions and pernicious examples. They 
 trace all human iniquity to a fountain 
 in the human heart — there they un- 
 cover the latent source of criminality, 
 and point out the first elements of a 
 world's corruption. They describe man 
 as shapen in iniquity, and conceived 
 in sin. It is strange that a doctrine 
 preached by the voice of experience in 
 all ages, should be combated by the 
 enemies of Revelation. Are not the 
 actions of every being the develope- 
 ment of his nature ? Is not the whole 
 of his history an exhibition of those 
 innate tendencies which he brought 
 with him into the field of existence, 
 even up to that moment when those 
 tendencies are changed, if changed at 
 all, by an external and omnipotent 
 power? And what is the history of 
 all nations but a record of moral evil, 
 with its attendant natural evil ? Does 
 
103 
 
 not the information of every public 
 journal, and the daily observation of 
 every individual, attest the guilt of 
 mankind, and the infirmities and fail- 
 ings of the best of men? Behold, 
 then, the developement of the nature 
 of man. We shall not continue this 
 argument at present, but proceed to 
 consider whether the possession of such 
 an inbred depravity as the Scriptures 
 attribute to us, can affect our moral 
 responsibility, so as to neutralize and 
 annul it. Now what is the practical 
 importance of this question? If it 
 could be deduced from the doctrines of 
 Revelation that man is not account- 
 able, then would it obviously follow 
 that neither is he punishable— and men 
 flatter themselves that thus the fear of 
 a future retribution would be gotten rid 
 of. Although, however, they could ac- 
 complish the impossible task of de- 
 ducing from the doctrines of Revela- 
 tion, a consequence contradictory of 
 
104 
 
 its direct and plainest declarations, it 
 does not appear how their situation 
 would be essentially bettered by their 
 success. For sin, in any form, must 
 render the sinner incapable of enjoying 
 the favour of the divinity, even al- 
 though He should make no inquisition 
 for iniquity, nor ever stretch forth his 
 arm to execute one direct infliction of 
 vengeance. If man be by nature 
 possessed of an evil principle, as all 
 experience of his disposition in deve- 
 lopement has shown ; if it be a fact 
 that he has no relish for the contem- 
 plation of his Creator, and the con- 
 scious enjoyment of his favour — then 
 immunity from punishment would not 
 be to him security from evil : ere his 
 condition can be blest, himself must 
 be changed. Exclusion from God has 
 come upon him, not alone in a way 
 of punishment, but in a way of natural 
 and necessary consequence. There 
 are other, too, and innumerable evils, 
 
105 
 
 all the unavoidable result of his depra- 
 vity, and which the mere freedom 
 from direct punishment could never 
 do away. Sin has its punishment, al- 
 though God should never interpose to 
 effect it. 
 
 2. We affirm not that any individual 
 is responsible for having brought an 
 evil nature with him into life— that he 
 is liable to be tried at the tribunal of 
 eternal Justice for the mere fact of 
 his birth. We allow, moreover, that 
 if the nature of man were such as to 
 constrain him to evil by a physical 
 necessity, he would not be account- 
 able. Were his bodily configuration 
 such that all his acts could only be 
 pernicious — were his mental constitu- 
 tion such that truth in every instance 
 must appear to him falsehood, and 
 falsehood appear to him truth, every 
 good seem evil, and every evil good — he 
 would not be accountable. But no one 
 ever pretends that his situation is one 
 
106 
 
 of this kind. His natural depravity 
 has not in this manner affected either 
 his bodily configuration, or his mental 
 constitution. No physical necessity 
 constrains him to evil. The motions 
 of sin, indeed, are in his very mem- 
 bers — yet may those members, with- 
 out any physical change being wrought 
 upon them, be employed in all the acts 
 of virtue and of religion, and restrained 
 from all the acts of vice and of im- 
 piety. Nor need any but a moral 
 change be wrought on his mental con- 
 stitution, to enable him to distinguish 
 error from truth, evil from good. 
 Were his being a mere compound of 
 instincts and appetites — had he only a 
 sentient nature — he would not be ac- 
 countable. The brute ravager of the 
 wilderness is not accountable — none 
 condemns the lion for the slaughter he 
 performs. But there is in man not a 
 sentient only, but an intellectual be- 
 ing. He knows, or is capable of 
 
107 
 
 knowing, his duty — it is immediately 
 obvious in many instances ; and, were 
 the suggestions of his understanding 
 attended to, it would not be obscure 
 in any. His moral depravity prompts 
 him to evil, it is true ; but his con- 
 science impels him to what is good ; 
 and he is under no physical inability 
 to comply with her dictates. His con- 
 science, indeed, is in point of fact an 
 imperfect guide ; but it is a fact also, 
 that he neglects the study of her inti- 
 mations, and is unwilling to make, on 
 every occasion, use of her light. He 
 dislikes to employ a sober and impar- 
 tial judgment on every practical ques- 
 tion ; and the information which con- 
 science supplies must therefore be 
 limited. She furnishes him with a 
 defective rule, but the fault is at his 
 own door. The whole subject of duty 
 lies within the comprehension of his 
 mental powers, just as any natural 
 science may lie within their compre- 
 
108 
 
 hension. We do not maintain that, 
 without a revelation, the knowledge 
 of duty would ever have actually been 
 complete among men; but we main- 
 tain that the obstacle in the way of 
 acquiring it consisted in this, that men 
 liked not to acquire it ; since, when it 
 is urged upon them, they like not to 
 retain it, and since no subject is, in 
 itself, more obvious to human appre- 
 hension. Whether we ought to serve 
 God, or serve him not — whether we 
 ought to love our fellow-men, or other- 
 wise — whether we ought to live so- 
 berly, righteously, and godly, or in a 
 manner the reverse of all these — it re- 
 quires no genius to determine. The 
 eternal Godhead would be universally 
 manifested by his works, and his 
 will would be universally manifested 
 by our consciences, were the light 
 of nature and of conscience duly em- 
 ployed. The inability of the natural 
 man to do what is right is not, th en 
 
109 
 
 a physical, but a moral, inability ; and 
 simply consists in his determined un- 
 willingness to do it. 
 
 Had he only that sentient nature 
 whose depravity prompts to evil, he 
 would not be accountable — but he has 
 also an intellectual nature, capable of 
 distinguishing between good and evil. 
 If he practises that which his own 
 conscience condemns, and which no 
 physical necessity compels him to 
 practise, he is accountable. If he 
 neglects to perform what his own con- 
 science tells him is his duty, while he 
 labours under no physical inability to 
 perform it, he is accountable. His 
 disposition toward evil, and his aver- 
 sion from good, are the result, it is 
 true, of an inbred depravity — but al- 
 though not judicially punishable for 
 having been born with the seeds of 
 them in his breast, he knows them to 
 be evil, he is not forced, blindfold, to 
 obey them, and therefore is he ae- 
 
 L 
 
110 
 
 countable. His natural will is evil, 
 and he acts under the impulse of it — 
 but his conscience tells him the crimi- 
 nality of this, and no fatal necessity 
 compels him to it. This is the founda- 
 tion of his accountability. Hence the 
 authority of the state in every nation 
 deals with him as accountable, and all 
 human laws are framed on the sup- 
 position that he is so. Were he not 
 accountable to God, neither would he 
 be justly accountable to man. The 
 law of the state, considered as a rule 
 of conduct, is indeed infinitely inferior 
 to the divine laAV ; but the transgres- 
 sion of the one, as well as of the other, 
 proceeds from natural depravity ; and 
 if that could excuse in the one case, it 
 must in the other also. The law of 
 the state has to do only with external 
 conduct, and is therefore more easily 
 observed than the divine law, which 
 extends its enactments to the intents 
 of the heart — but if crime be punish- 
 
Ill 
 
 able in the execution of the former, on 
 the principle that, although it be the 
 ebullition of a natural depravity, it is 
 yet voluntary, and committed against 
 knowledge, or where the means of 
 acquiring knowledge are possessed ; 
 then, on the same principle, must sin 
 be punishable in the execution of the 
 latter. But the law of public opinion 
 pronounces on disposition, as well as 
 on practice, and censures many evil 
 affections which are born with men. 
 If this be done on the principle that 
 men know, or are capable of knowing, 
 the evil of their natural dispositions, 
 and are under no physical necessity of 
 complying with them ; then, on the 
 very same principle must the indul- 
 gence of natural depravity be liable to 
 a just condemnation by the law of 
 God. In each of the instances now 
 adduced there is evidently involved a 
 principle of justice and of retribution. 
 The authority of the state, in any 
 
112 
 
 nation, does not remove a murderer on 
 a mere principle of self-defence and 
 expediency, as men crush a scorpion 
 in their dwellings, or pierce a lion in 
 their fields ; but punishes him with 
 death as accountable. Certain vicious 
 qualities are censured by the law of 
 opinion, not with a view to promote 
 the welfare of society, but on the 
 groundthat to indulge them is culpable. 
 Accordingly we not merely feel that 
 expediency does not require, but that 
 justice would condemn, the legal pu- 
 nishment, or public censure, of an 
 idiot; his incompetency to distinguish 
 between moral good and evil annul- 
 ling his responsibility. It has been a 
 question with some, whether God was 
 bound to make provision for the re- 
 moval of our natural depravity. But 
 the decision of this question, howso- 
 ever it may be decided, cannot affect 
 the question of our accountability — for 
 enough exists, in human nature as it 
 
113 
 
 is, to render us accountable. We have 
 extracted an evidence of accountability 
 from the natural constitution of man ; 
 and therefore, were it even granted 
 that the Deity was obliged to make 
 provision for the removal of our na- 
 tural depravity, while he has not done so 
 universally, the only consequence to be 
 inferred would be — a blasphemous im- 
 putation on the character of the Creator. 
 We may be allowed, however, to de- 
 mand, by what principle is it supposed 
 that the Deity was held in obligation 
 to provide for the removal of human 
 depravity ? Ts it by a principle of jus- 
 tice ? But the indulgence of evil is 
 voluntary, in a being whom no physical 
 necessity compels to indulge it — and 
 voluntary evil is criminal in a rational 
 being; how then can the deity be 
 deemed under an obligation of justice, 
 to extend favour to the guilty ? And, if 
 not bound to it in justice, he is not bound 
 to it at all ; for all obligations must, in 
 l2 
 
114 
 
 one way or other, involve a principle 
 of justice. 
 
 Were He that made us the author of 
 our depravity, he might be thought 
 obliged to remove it ; but that is a 
 supposition too impious to be held, and 
 too absurd to be refuted. 
 
 3. There are, acts of the mind for 
 which we are accountable no less than 
 for acts of the body. All are of this 
 description, which are voluntary, and 
 are not indifferent in their nature. The 
 admission of truth, and the rejection 
 of error, may to some appear incapable 
 of belonging to this description. But, 
 although there are instances wherein 
 the admission of truth is necessary and 
 involuntary ; and instances wherein the 
 rejection of error is necessary and 
 involuntary too ; yet experience has 
 furnished us with other instances in 
 which truth has been wilfully resisted, 
 and error as wilfully retained. When 
 the light of moral knowledge is poured 
 
115 
 
 on some public and long cherished 
 abomination, bigotry stands firm to 
 defend, and the multitude are slow to 
 abandon it ; and centuries have rolled 
 away, ere the victory of right has been 
 achieved. The organ of vision may be 
 closed against the rising sunbeams ; 
 the intellectual eye may be shut 
 against the dawning of truth. A 
 resolute profligate, rather than de- 
 part from his career, may muster all 
 the cavils of sophistry against the ar- 
 guments of virtue, until he succeed in 
 persuading himself that sobriety is 
 meanness, and there is something noble 
 in vice. May not an obstinate sinner, 
 in the same way, wilfully sophisticate 
 over the arguments of religion, and 
 build up a bulwark of ingenious ab- 
 surdity about him, lest the power of 
 evidence should enter, and become 
 instrumental to his conversion ? May 
 he not, for example, cull out from the 
 infidel armoury that superficial and well 
 
116 
 
 refuted objection against the doctrine 
 of godliness, that it is unfavourable to 
 the interests of virtue ; while his own 
 observation contradicts him, and an 
 uneasy conscience accuses him of un- 
 fairness in his proceeding ? or may he 
 not fix upon some other particular, that 
 appears to his mind a difficulty involved 
 in the Evangelic system ; and, with 
 strong misgivings about the temerity 
 of his decision, at once reject the 
 entire, and refuse all further investiga- 
 tion ? or may he not ward away from 
 him the kind assaults of truth, with a 
 self gratulation that it will be always 
 in his power to yield to them ? And then, 
 in his dying hour, may he not, although 
 without a pretext, put back from him 
 in sullen silence the invitation of the 
 Gospel, and, with the force of antipathy 
 long indulged, repel all the tenderness 
 of divine intreaty ? May not the process 
 in his mind, in every one of the instances 
 we have adduced, be altogether volun- 
 
117 
 
 tary ? In proof of our position we appeal 
 to your observation — we appeal to your 
 experience. But further— it may be 
 laid down as an undisputed maxim, 
 that the rejection of any truth of which 
 a sufficient evidence has been proposed, 
 must either proceed from incapacity 
 to apprehend that evidence, or must 
 be voluntary. The argument may be 
 complicated and profound, and length- 
 ened into a chain too long and ponder- 
 ous for the comprehension of ordinary 
 faculties ; in which case the refusal of 
 trqth may be involuntary. Or the 
 argument may be of so brief and simple 
 a character, that the humblest intellect 
 may, without labour, attain and appre- 
 ciate the conclusion ; and we may 
 withhold our attention from it, or refuse 
 it an impartial hearing — in which case 
 the rejection of truth will be voluntary. 
 The rejection of the Gospel is of the 
 latter kind. Its evidence is at hand, 
 and not afar off; no intellectual emi- 
 
118 
 
 nence is requisite to attain it. We 
 speak not of that evidence alone, which 
 consists in the testimony of its martyred 
 apostles, whose lives and whose deaths 
 evinced their sincerity, and who could 
 not be deceived in testifying what they 
 had heard and seen ; and whose testi- 
 mony has descended to us in the form 
 of a record indisputably genuine ; — nor 
 of that evidence alone, which shines 
 along a series of full, but minute, pre- 
 dictions, whose antiquity is unques- 
 tioned, and whose accomplishment is 
 the subject of historical record; — nor 
 of the whole of that internal evidence, 
 which a Christian Scholar may draw 
 from the mine of Revelation, while he 
 works therein, enamoured with the 
 philosophy of Christianity ; — but we 
 speak of that evidence which goes along 
 with the Gospel message, however 
 simply it may be delivered, and which 
 commends itself to every man's con- 
 science in the sight of God. The Gospel 
 
119 
 
 discovers our moral condition ; and our 
 consciences attest the truth of the 
 discovery — the Gospel proposes, in the 
 salvation of Christ, a remedy which 
 alone is suitable, at once, to that con- 
 dition, and to the character of God, 
 These evidences of its origin are suffi- 
 cient ; and less than these ought to 
 be sufficient, while risk infinitely pre- 
 ponderates on the side of rejection. 
 Hence the criminality of unbelief; it 
 is a voluntary rejection of simple and 
 sufficient evidence. Men have sinned ; 
 and they like not the conviction of sin 
 which the Gospel is adapted to pro- 
 duce ; men are depraved ; and they 
 like not the renovation of soul of which 
 it is the instrument in all who believe — 
 Therefore is the Gospel so extensively 
 rejected. " This is the condemnation, 
 that light is come into the world, and 
 men loved darkness rather than light, 
 because their deeds were evil." 
 
 4. The rejection of the Gospel is 
 
120 
 
 represented in the Scriptures as the 
 most aggravated sin of which our na- 
 ture is capable. The reason of this 
 will easily appear, when we consider 
 that such rejection is, in fact, a refusal 
 of divine mercy rather than to submit 
 to divine authority. Every sin is a re- 
 sistance of divine authority, and proves 
 the existence of the disobedient prin- 
 ciple ; but the rejection of mercy pro- 
 posed implies a determination of con- 
 tinuing in resistance, yea, of venturing 
 on the worst rather than undergo sub- 
 mission even on favourable terms ; and 
 demonstrates the depth of the dis- 
 obedient principle. It manifestly im- 
 plies, moreover, a deliberate sanction- 
 ing of all former transgressions. To 
 exhibit a determination of persevering 
 in resistance is to set a seal to every 
 previous act of resistance. Let us 
 imagine a case that will serve the 
 purpose of illustration here. The 
 banners of insurrection have been 
 
121 
 
 elevated ; multitudes have flocked 
 around them; acts of treason have been 
 openly perpetrated, and the guilt of 
 rebellion has been widely incurred. 
 But the prompt and vigorous exertion 
 of authority soon renders the cause 
 hopeless ; the insurgents, every where 
 borne down by irresistible armies, are 
 made to feel the wrath of an offended 
 Sovereign. While affairs are in this 
 situation, an amnesty is proclaimed, 
 and a time appointed within which it 
 may be pleaded. Some gladly come 
 forward, and, on different days within 
 the limited season, accept the benefit, 
 and are pardoned. Others wilfully 
 neglect the opportunity, choosing to 
 retain the arms of rebellion at all 
 hazards, rather than yield on merciful 
 terms to the authority whose indig- 
 nation they have provoked. Is it not 
 in the minds of the latter that the prin- 
 ciple of rebellion is most deeply and 
 most obstinately cherished? Does not 
 
 M 
 
122 
 
 the refusal of an amnesty at the last 
 evince a more determined disloyalty 
 than all the acts of previous insurrec- 
 tion, and does it not amount to a 
 deliberate sanctioning of them all? 
 The case we have been considering is 
 exactly similar. We have all incurred 
 the guilt of rebellion against the 
 Sovereign of Heaven — and other Lords, 
 even our sins, have had dominion over 
 us. The cause of our rebellion ever has 
 been hopeless ; for there is no resisting, 
 nor escaping, Him with whom we have 
 to do. But he has proclaimed an am- 
 nesty in the Gospel of his Son. Some, 
 at various intervals plead it, aad are 
 pardoned. Others, rather than submit 
 to God on gracious terms, have chosen 
 at all risk to reject it. Every former 
 transgression was an act of rebellion 
 against God, but this is an act of 
 deeply-resolved rebellion, and a virtual 
 confirmation of all that have preceded 
 it. No other means of obtaining for- 
 
123 
 
 giveness are known among us ; and 
 to put the only means away, when 
 resistance cannot hope for a triumphant 
 issue, is to exhibit the principle of 
 ungodliness in its last act of darkest 
 determination, sanctioning every pre- 
 vious act — and therefore is to exhibit 
 it in its most aggravated guilt. 
 
 To shrink from examination is natu- 
 ral to the guilty. Now one among the 
 uniform effects of the Gospel is to 
 exhibit fully, to him who receives it, 
 his own condition. 
 
 However high his former estimation 
 of his own character, it must now be 
 laid low— his sins are set before him 
 in a view wherein he never previously 
 regarded them, as all committed against 
 the law of the Most High, and as 
 having exposed him to the weight of 
 his just indignation. His attention is 
 directed to his own heart, as the foun- 
 tain that polluted and imbittered his 
 life ; and he is compelled to glance 
 
124 
 
 downward into its dark and unfathom- 
 able abyss of corruption. But such 
 contemplations are revolting to the 
 world. In a fatal, yet voluntary, infa- 
 tuation, they start back at the mention 
 of their guilt — and from an insight into 
 the depth of their own inward depravity 
 they shrink as from the face of despair. 
 Yet Christ came not into the world to 
 condemn it, but that the world through 
 him might be saved. By those mis- 
 taken terrors which we have attempted 
 to describe, men only exclude their 
 own souls from the enjoyment of a 
 sure and solid peace. Pause and exa- 
 mine your state ; look boldly upon it 
 in the light of truth. Reflect that you 
 are accountable, that you have sinned — 
 and that a wrath is reserved for the 
 impenitent, but a salvation proposed to 
 every one who believes. However awful 
 the guilt upon which a sober self- 
 examination would direct your eyes, 
 turn not away, until, disabused of every 
 
125 
 
 imagination that cannot stand the test, 
 and utterly dispossessed of your false 
 security, you become willing to em- 
 brace a hope that maketh not ashamed. 
 Remember that otherwise a more 
 awful discovery awaits you — where no 
 self-vindication shall mitigate the sense 
 of woe; but conscience for ever echo 
 the condemnation pronounced, that 
 light was come into the world, and men 
 loved darkness rather than light 
 because their deeds were eviL 
 
 m 2 
 
SEBMOS V. 
 
 DIVINE PREDESTINATION CONSIDERED 
 
 IN CONNECTION WITH HUMAN 
 
 ACCOUNTABILITY. 
 
 " Thou wilt say then unto me, why doth 
 he yet find fault, for who hath resisted 
 his will r 
 
 Rom. ix. 19. 
 
 We have endeavoured to prove that 
 the doctrine of our accountability is 
 not entangled with that of our natural 
 depravity; and that no declarations of 
 scripture on the latter subject have 
 any tendency to neutralize the force of 
 its declarations on the former. We 
 have also undertaken to prove that the 
 Doctrine of our accountability is 
 equally unaffected by that of divine 
 
127 
 
 predestination. The high importance 
 of the subject will justify our allotting 
 a portion of the present discourse to a 
 preliminary notice of predestination 
 itself. Many, it is certain, need to be 
 informed concerning the precise extent 
 of scriptural statements on this subject; 
 and, while prejudiced by misinforma- 
 tion, are incapable of judging rightly 
 on any other, connected with it. The 
 doctrine of predestination, as they im- 
 agine it is taught in Scripture, may mili- 
 tate against the accountability of man 
 — but may nevertheless be a wholly 
 different thing from the doctrine of pre- 
 destination actually taught in Scripture. 
 1. The divine predestination of evil, 
 inculcated by the Scriptures when 
 fairly interpreted, will be found to 
 amount only to a fore-knowledge and 
 permission of evil. There are certainly 
 passages, such as "whom he will he 
 hardeneth", which are capable of being 
 explained as indicating a direct and 
 
128 
 
 positive agency on the part of the Deity, 
 for the purpose of effecting the final 
 ruin of some among his creatures. Few, 
 however, will be disposed to charge the 
 Scriptures with the pollution of such a 
 doctrine as this — yet there hovers in 
 the view of many a certain mysterious- 
 ness around the passages to which we 
 have now alluded, which appears to 
 intimate the existence of some un- 
 defined and vague apprehension that 
 such a doctrine may really be taught 
 by them. Now those passages are also 
 capable of being explained as merely 
 signifying the divine permission of fore- 
 known moral evil — that, in short, the 
 Almighty, in punishment of human sin, 
 does in certain cases give up the mind 
 to the power of its voluntary delusion, 
 and permits the heart to become har- 
 dened by its own cherished depravity. 
 But how shall it be decided whether 
 we are to adopt the former, or the 
 latter, as the true explanation of 
 
129 
 
 such passages ? which are we to fix 
 upon, in the case of the passage lately 
 quoted? It is but justice to any author 
 to explain his more obscure, in consis- 
 tency with his plainer, declarations, 
 rather than in contradiction to them. 
 Let this principle be recognized in 
 interpreting an inspired writer, and the 
 point in question is decided. The same 
 Apostle, who says of God that " whom 
 he will be hardeneth," declares else- 
 where that % the grace of God hath 
 appeared unto all men." We do not, 
 with some, interpret the latter 
 passage as intimating that a divine 
 influence is communicated to the heart 
 of every man; but taking it in a lower 
 sense, or reducing it even to the lowest 
 which it can rationally be supposed to 
 bear, we may consider it as implying 
 that the divine mercv has been mani- 
 fested to mankind without distinction, 
 by the publication of a Gospel whose 
 invitations are addressed to every 
 
130 
 
 intelligent creature under heaven. 
 Explaining, therefore, the other pas- 
 sage in agreement with this, we only 
 infer from it that God, in retributive 
 justice, permits some men to become 
 hardened in iniquity by a process 
 within them, of which they are them- 
 selves the voluntary authors. In the 
 same manner must every one of the 
 sacred writers be interpreted — how- 
 ever strong their declarations on the 
 subject of predestination may be, they 
 all, beyond controversy, set forth the 
 tender mercies of the Lord, extended 
 over all his works; and from them all 
 may that holy truth be gathered, 
 "God cannot be tempted with evil, 
 neither tempteth he any man " 
 
 2. Does such a predestination in- 
 volve any thing contrary to impartial 
 reason ? Is it unreasonable to believe 
 that God foreknew from everlasting 
 the events of his own world, the 
 actions of his own creatures ; and that 
 
131 
 
 not even iniquity can be perpetrated 
 without his permission? Let us sup- 
 pose that some extraordinary mechani- 
 cal invention has just taken place, and 
 that its effects are exhibited before us. 
 We see an intricate system of com- 
 bined machinery? in play, and can 
 plainly distinguish the result produced; 
 but, unless let into the secret, are un- 
 able to trace the part performed by 
 each particular portion of the whole. 
 We are certain, however, that to the 
 inventor all this is known — his sagacity 
 has devised, and his art has fabricated, 
 the engine ; with the part performed by 
 every spring and wheel, during the 
 movement of the united whole, he 
 must be perfectly acquainted. All are 
 agreed that the whole universe of 
 matter and of mind is but one mighty 
 instrument in the hands of the Al- 
 mighty. He is the inventor, and the 
 maker, of all things. His work, indeed, 
 differs from that of the human artist in 
 
132 
 
 this, that its several portions consist, 
 in great measure, of voluntary agents; 
 but this only magnifies the wisdom 
 and the power of its great Former, 
 and cannot affect the argument. The 
 world is the work of God, planned and 
 formed by him — created confessedly to 
 answer one great design. Hence all 
 the inferior movements combined for 
 that end — all the actions and thoughts 
 of men — must have been known unto 
 God from the foundation of the world. 
 The divine foreknowledge is, indeed, 
 scarcely disputed but by atheists alone; 
 mark the consequence which follows 
 it — all things must be determinately 
 settled in the view of God. All futurity 
 is present to the omniscient eye — all 
 the issues of events are traced in 
 deep and decisive lines before the 
 omniscient mind. Uncertainty has a 
 being with regard to us — to Him it has 
 none ; it is a name that has no place 
 in the language of Deity. Attempts 
 
133 
 
 have, indeed, been made to prove 
 that, notwithstanding the divine fore- 
 knowledge, events are even to God 
 contingent, as they are to us. But 
 such attempts do not merit a serious 
 refutation — the recoil of common sense 
 is felt at the mention of them. That all 
 things are determined in the view of 
 God, if all things are foreknown by 
 him, is a consequence intuitively 
 evident to every unprejudiced mind. 
 But what truth has yet been discovered 
 which a cloud of prejudice cannot 
 obscure? 
 
 3. It will not be amiss to inquire 
 whether we can collect around our 
 doctrine an evidence from facts. Let 
 the being and the providence of God 
 be only granted, and we can point out 
 the divine predestination with refer- 
 ence to the temporal and spiritual 
 interest of nations, as well as of 
 individuals. None but enthusiasts in 
 paradox will be disposed to deny that 
 
 N 
 
134 
 
 a healthful climate and a fertile soil, 
 civilization, regular government, and 
 general instruction in the grand fun- 
 damental duties of religion and mo- 
 rality, are real blessings, without which 
 the external comforts of our condition 
 must be imperfect, and the miseries 
 consequent on a lax and licentious 
 practice must be widely diffused ; as 
 experience has abundantly demonstra- 
 ted. Yet mark how unequally those 
 blessings are distributed by the hand 
 of the Almighty. This is a fact with 
 which all are acquainted ; and we shall 
 therefore forbear the needless enu- 
 meration of a series of particulars, 
 contenting ourselves with the mention 
 of one striking instance. Why has 
 Africa been — in every age over which 
 the stream of history flows— the mo- 
 ther of slaves? Why has that mighty 
 continent, since the primeval period of 
 our world, been peopled by tribes of 
 iminstructed savages, or half-civilized 
 
135 
 
 nations ruled by lawless tyranny? 
 why has the morning march of 
 accumulative prosperity and diffusive 
 knowledge never reached her shores ? 
 why have the great truths of religion 
 been ever there obscured by a cloud of 
 superstition, and the grand duties of 
 morality consequently little known 
 and less regarded? why has the lot of 
 the African been uniformly dark and 
 degraded, while on the happier natives 
 of other lands the light of civilization, 
 of regulated liberty, and, above all, 
 of religion, has long shone out? all 
 this may be traced to the immediate 
 operation of secondary causes, and 
 attributed to the remote situation, and 
 the constitutional hebetude and in- 
 dolence of the Negro, which have 
 deprived him of that intercourse with 
 other nations that promotes the pro- 
 gress of civilization and knowledge, 
 and have rendered him the natural 
 prey of designing tyranny and sacer- 
 
136 
 
 dotal cunning. But still who will 
 venture to deny that this was all fore- 
 known and permitted by the Deity, 
 and therefore predestinated in the only 
 sense wherein, according to the Scrip- 
 tures, evil can be predestinated? 
 Here is a predestination relating to 
 millions, to nations, to successive ge- 
 nerations, of the human species; and 
 affecting not only the external, but also 
 the moral, well-being of mankind. 
 Here is the same principle exhibited in 
 the dealings of divine providence, that 
 Revelation presents to us in the oper- 
 ations of grace. — But it will be con- 
 tended that the evils here predestinated 
 may be limited to the present world, 
 and compensated in a future state ; 
 and although they certainly demon- 
 strate that the divine predestination, 
 in the abstract, cannot be inconsistent 
 with the divine justice, (since an in- 
 stance of it is thus actually exhibited 
 before us), yet when applied to evils 
 
137 
 
 that are everlasting, and without re- 
 medy, it must be irreconcileable with 
 it. The divine predestination, in the 
 abstract, is certainly proved to be 
 consistent with the divine justice by 
 the instances of it which occur in the 
 course of providence; and, with res- 
 pect to the particular application of it 
 to things eternal, the whole con- 
 troversy resolves itself into the ques- 
 tion, whether an eternal punishment 
 be just or not — for if it be just, then 
 the Deity's foreknowing who shall 
 justly incur it, cannot render it unjust. 
 If the wickedness of the wicked be 
 voluntary, and justly punishable by 
 the Governor of the universe; and if 
 an eternal punishment be not inconsis- 
 tent with his justice; the divine fore- 
 knowledge of eternal punishment can 
 evidently no more render it unjust, 
 than the divine foreknowledge of the 
 wickedness that merits it can render 
 that wickedness less criminal. It 
 n2 
 
138 
 
 would not fall within the plan, or 
 compass, of the present discourse, to 
 enlarge on the subject of an eternal 
 punishment of sin. We may however 
 observe that, of all persons, the least 
 competent to pronounce on the justice 
 or injustice of a sentence are they who 
 stand exposed to its infliction ; such 
 are we all in the case before us. We 
 are sinners — we have merited punish- 
 ment — and does it belong to us to 
 determine what extent of retribution 
 would be just? or does it not rather 
 belong to the legislator only? But the 
 fact is that not even the terror of an 
 unterminating vengeance has been 
 sufficient wholly to fright away the 
 generality of men from the indulgence 
 of their sins — what effect therefore 
 would be produced by the apprehen- 
 sion of a transient infliction of suffer- 
 ing? we are persuaded that the 
 denunciation of ages of woe, as the 
 punishment of impenitent wickedness, 
 
139 
 
 if to be succeeded by an everlasting 
 immunity, would fall powerless and 
 unheeded, as a breath of air, on the 
 ears of the vast majority of mankind. 
 Can the only divine punishment which 
 can be imagined to place the check of 
 a salutary fear on the spirits of men, 
 be declared inconsistent with the jus- 
 tice of God? we have already shown 
 that suffering waits on sin in the form 
 of natural consequence — and if sin 
 be persevered in, its punishment must 
 thus be also continued. And if sin be 
 voluntary and culpable, and God bb 
 not bound to limit its continuance, 
 neither can he be bound to limit thb 
 continuance of the evil which is na- 
 turally allied with it. Hence eternal 
 punishment can never be proved incon- 
 sistent with divine justice — and, if not 
 inconsistent with it, how can the 
 Almighty's foreknowledge of those 
 who, in a voluntary and a punishable 
 course may draw it down upon them- 
 
140 
 
 selves, reverse its character, and ren- 
 der it unjust ? Let it be only granted 
 that by this life a man's final destiny 
 is decided — that the day of mercy is 
 now, and the day of retribution will 
 be hereafter — and we point to those 
 who are permitted to live and die in 
 wickedness before our eyes, and we 
 a^k, was not this foreknown by the 
 Almighty? Was he not always acquain- 
 ted with that sinful career which thus, 
 within our very view, fixes the doom of 
 the ungodly, and characterizes before- 
 hand their eternal state ? and what is 
 this foreknowledge and permission of 
 their guilt, but that predestination of 
 it which alone the sacred volume 
 teaches? other men live and expire in 
 the arms of virtue and piety; it is true 
 that the Scripture teaches a divine and 
 direct agency on behalf of these — but 
 were all their virtue, and piety, and 
 perseverance, attributable to some- 
 thing peculiar iu their original con- 
 
141 
 
 stitution; since of this latter, God, not 
 chance, must be considered the primary 
 author, and since, in preserving some 
 seeds of original righteousness in it, 
 he must have foreknown all the blessed 
 consequences that were to spring from 
 them; he is, on such a plan, the 
 original and predestinating author of 
 all their goodness, as truly as he is 
 according to the Scriptural doctrine, 
 which represents him as sending forth 
 his Spirit into the hearts of his elect, 
 to call them to repentance, and enable 
 them to continue in faith. Thus whe- 
 ther we embrace the doctrine of Scrip- 
 ture, with regard to the cause of 
 excellence in some, and of wickedness 
 in others, or attempt to account for 
 the existence of each on other than 
 Scriptural principles, if it be only 
 granted that a man's life in the present 
 world must decide his final destiny, 
 and that the next is a state of retribu- 
 tion, then the divine predestination, 
 
142 
 
 just as inculcated in the Scriptures, 
 may be proved by the facts that lie 
 around us. 
 
 4. To this doctrine it has been ob- 
 jected that it clashes with human 
 accountability. This is the objection 
 which is anticipated in our text — 
 "thou wilt say then unto me, whv 
 doth he yet find fault, for who hath 
 resisted his will?" The Apostle was 
 dealing with persons who admitted 
 the divine authority of the Scriptures, 
 from which he had just extracted 
 proofs of the doctrine of predestina- 
 tion — to such objectors, therefore, his 
 only reply was, " nay but, O man, 
 w ho art thou that repliest against 
 God?" where the objectors to our 
 doctrine admit the Scriptures, our an- 
 swer to their objection may, therefore, 
 be similar. We may refer them to the 
 revelation of God — to its broadest and 
 most unambiguous declarations — to 
 its formal argumentation on the sub- 
 
143 
 
 jeet, as in the chapter before us — to 
 the incidental allusions of its very 
 historical portions; and we may say 
 to them, if God hath revealed that 
 whom he did foreknow, them he did 
 predestinate, who are ye that reply 
 against Him ? To acknowledge the in- 
 spiration of the sacred volume, and 
 yet explain away and nullify its clearest 
 communications, or combat them with 
 abstract argument, savours not of 
 right reason, or of genuine piety. God 
 is wiser than we — and if we receive the 
 Scriptures as the word of God, is it 
 not consistent to submit to their 
 instruction?— Had the Apostle been 
 reasoning on this subject with those 
 who rejected the Scriptures, he would, 
 doubtless, according to his usual habit, 
 have reasoned from their own princi- 
 ples ; and defended the doctrine of 
 predestination on other ground than 
 he assumes in the instance we have been 
 contemplating. How he would have 
 
144 
 
 conducted his argument in such a 
 case we can only imagine, for no ex- 
 ample of the kind is on record. In 
 meeting the objection anticipated in 
 the text, when it is urged by persons 
 not admitting the authority of Scrip- 
 ture, we have only a general guide in 
 the spirit in which he contends, on all 
 occasions, for the once delivered faith. 
 It has already been seen that the 
 accountability of man arises from a 
 voluntary agency being combined in 
 him with at least an intellectual na- 
 ture — or in other words with the pos- 
 session of a conscience, whose intima- 
 tions he is formed to feel. He is 
 capable of knowing his duty, and under 
 no physical necessity of transgressing 
 it — hence he is dealt with as accoun- 
 table by the law of the state, and by 
 the law of opinion; and hence he will 
 be dealt with as accountable by the 
 divine law. What effect have the 
 foreknowledge and permissive will of 
 
145 
 
 God on the sources of his accounta- 
 bility ? have they expelled the internal 
 monitor from his breast ? Have they 
 altered his mental, or his corporal 
 constitution, and laid him under an 
 inevitable necessity of sinning? If not, 
 how can they render him less account- 
 able for sin, than if his sins had never 
 been foreknown ? So long as he pos- 
 sesses a conscience, and is under no 
 physical constraint, so long is he 
 accountable; and in these respects the 
 divine foreknowledge and permission 
 of his sin have not interfered with him. 
 His sins, although foreknown and per- 
 mitted, are yet voluntary, and com- 
 mitted under light, whether natural 
 or revealed ; and therefore are they 
 punishable. The foreknowledge and 
 permission of the Deity no more 
 interfere with the voluntary character 
 of his actions, or with the light of his 
 conscience, than if no Deity existed. 
 Although it could be ascertained that 
 
146 
 
 the Governor of the universe had 
 ceased to be, yet would not the actions 
 of man be more voluntary than they 
 now are, nor the light of his conscience 
 be increased, nor would he be treated 
 by his fellow-man as accountable to 
 the law of the state, or to the law of 
 opinion, in a stronger sense than at 
 present; whence it is evident that the 
 permissive will and foreknowledge of 
 the Deity have no effect upon him in 
 his accountable character. 
 
 5. The divine predestination of 
 moral good, we have already admitted, 
 is not represented in Scripture as 
 merely amounting to a foreknowledge 
 and permission of it. All that is 
 morally good in man, from the first 
 feeling of awakening penitence to the 
 final triumph of faith, is referred to his 
 direct operation. His Spirit is de- 
 scribed as descending, in the appointed 
 day of his power, on the hearts of his 
 elect, and turning them from the love 
 
147 
 
 and slavery of sin, to the Saviour of 
 sinners, and the service of God. He 
 who first opens the heart, to receive 
 the Gospel of his salvation, is de- 
 scribed as maintaining an influence 
 over it unto the end — captivating its 
 affections to the obedience of faith, and 
 binding them permanently around the 
 truth as it is in Jesus. Here is, indeed, 
 a special mercy manifested to some. 
 Does this remove the accountability of 
 others ? It cannot — and, obviously, for 
 the same reason we assigned in the 
 former case — it does not interfere 
 with the voluntary character of their 
 actions, nor deprive them of con- 
 science; it leaves the sources of their 
 accountability untouched. Were no 
 special grace extended to any, none 
 would be more accountable than they 
 at present are; for their actions would 
 not be more voluntary, nor the light 
 of their consciences greater than now. 
 God might have left all to them- 
 
148 
 
 selves, and have punished all; and in 
 doing so he would have been justified. 
 Where all are justly liable to punish- 
 ment, can the exercise of distinguishing 
 mercy toward a few remove the ac- 
 countability of others ? Let us suppose 
 the case of a number of criminals, all 
 sentenced to the last punishment that 
 human tribunals can award, for the 
 convicted violation of their country's 
 laws. In behalf of some of them an 
 effectual mediation takes place at the 
 court of the Sovereign; and he is 
 pleased to exercise, in their favour, his 
 prerogative of mercy. Does this affect 
 the criminality of the rest? At the 
 moment that the pardon of the former 
 has been carried into effect— does the 
 whole burthen of guilt, previously 
 attached to the latter, loosen and fall 
 off, and has it become unjust to execute 
 upon them the sentence of the law? 
 The answer is obvious in this case, 
 and should be equally so in the case 
 
149 
 
 illustrated by it. All have sinned — all 
 are justly liable to the penalty of 
 God's broken law — and it is impossible 
 that peculiar mercy extended to some 
 can interfere with the accountability 
 of others. Deprive man of his con- 
 science, or force him to the commis- 
 sion of evil, and you destroy his 
 accountability — but nothing can de- 
 stroy it that leaves him unaffected in 
 these respects. Just, then, as the 
 foreknowledge and permission of the 
 Deity leave his accountability un- 
 touched, because they do not interfere 
 with the light of his conscience, or 
 with the voluntary character of his 
 actions — for the same reason the 
 extension of peculiar mercy to some 
 must leave it untouched. 
 
 Why is any difficulty connected with 
 this subject in our minds? Because it 
 is not sufficiently considered that the 
 sin of the world is voluntary. Unbelief 
 is voluntary. The nature of revealed 
 o2 
 
150 
 
 truth, and the evidences of it, may be 
 considered and weighed by the human 
 mind, as well as any other propositions 
 that are submitted to it — we have all 
 the natural faculties necessary for the 
 purpose. But men wilfully put away 
 the truth, and love darkness rather 
 than light, because their deeds are evil. 
 They labour under no physical inability 
 to believe — the inability is altogether 
 a moral one, consisting in volun- 
 tary opposition to the truth. All 
 things are ready; the invitation is gone 
 forth to every creature under heaven ; 
 but they will not come to the banquet 
 of the Gospel. God willeth not the 
 death of a sinner — he throws no delu- 
 sive influence over his understanding; 
 he infuses no fatal insensibility into his 
 heart; he has provided an atonement 
 sufficient for the expiation of all hu- 
 man guilt ; around as he has multiplied 
 in a thousand forms, the means of 
 divine instruction ; and he has declared 
 
151 
 
 that he will deal with all men, not 
 according to the light which they have 
 not, but according to the light which 
 they have. On the part of God there 
 exists no obstacle to the salvation of 
 men — the obstacle is on their own part 
 altogether. Men like not to employ 
 the light which is given them; they 
 harden themselves, they refuse to 
 repent, and will not believe. Hence 
 did God resign the whole human spe- 
 cies to the power of their voluntary 
 sins, and suffer them to perish in the 
 impenitence which they cherish, he 
 would be justified ; — and if he exercises 
 an omnipotent agency in behalf of any, 
 to overcome their hatred of truth, and 
 bring them to repentance, this is an 
 act of grace which he is not obliged to 
 perform for any, and therefore surely 
 not for all — an act which, consequently, 
 cannot relieve any from their respon- 
 sibility. By that grace extended to 
 some, the consciences of others are 
 
152 
 
 not extinguished, their opportunities 
 are not withdrawn, their faculties are 
 not deteriorated, their physical con- 
 stitution is not altered; and therefore 
 their accountability is not interfered 
 with. 
 
 If, then, there be indeed on the part 
 of the Deity a predestination of all 
 things, not interfering with the ac- 
 countability of man, what is to be 
 done? Let men only consent to act 
 with regard to their spiritual, as they 
 act with regard to their temporal, 
 interests, and the question is readily 
 answered. The agriculturist will em- 
 ploy means for the production of that 
 harvest, which he knows must ulti- 
 mately depend on causes beyond his 
 control. To insure a return for his 
 labours, the field must be blessed with 
 sunshine and with rain, in due and 
 kindly proportion — which he can only 
 implore, but the God of nature must 
 bestow. Yet ignorant, as he is, whe- 
 
153 
 
 ther his toil shall prosper, but hopeful 
 that the ordinary course of nature will 
 operate in his favour, he employs the 
 means— he prepares the soil, casts in 
 the seed, and watches over the work 
 which he has performed. Let us act 
 thus in religion. Although conscious 
 that the effectual blessing, here too, 
 must descend from a superior power, 
 let us employ the means which lie 
 within our reach. We have not only 
 the encouragement afforded by the or- 
 dinary course of divine grace, but an 
 express and immediate promise that 
 we shall not seek in vain. If the bles- 
 sing has already descended upon us, 
 and we have begun to experience the 
 fruits of the Spirit in the joy and 
 holiness of believing, we should attri- 
 bute this to the sovereign and unme- 
 rited mercy of God ; and, regarding it 
 as a manifestation of his gracious will 
 toward us, we may assure our hearts 
 that he will never permit us to be 
 separated from his everlasting love. 
 
SEHMOM VI. 
 
 THE EXPANSIVE TENDENCY OF 
 PERSONAL RELIGION. 
 
 2 Pet. iii. 18. 
 "Grow in Grace" 
 
 Among the professors of religion 
 there exists a class, happily less nume- 
 rous at the present than perhaps at 
 any former period, who believe the 
 whole of personal religion, to consist 
 in the simple reception of that truth, 
 " Christ loved the Church and gave 
 himself for it." When once the aton- 
 ing sacrifice and electing love of God 
 are seen with eyes of faith, no more 
 (as they believe) remains to be accom- 
 plished on the part of the enlightening 
 
155 
 
 Spirit, than to preserve to the end, 
 that measure of light which he has 
 now imparted — and therefore nothing 
 remains for the earnest attention and 
 persevering efforts of the believer to 
 strain after, but he may rest in indolent 
 security on the foundation of peace 
 which he has been enabled to discover. 
 To talk of watchful and prayerful 
 endeavours to attain more elevated 
 conceptions of revealed truth, accom- 
 panied by more close conformity to the 
 standard of revealed morals, appears 
 to them a deviation from the simplicity, 
 a foregoing of the liberty, of the Gos- 
 pel; an adoption, in fact, of the very 
 principle of the Pharisee; a return to 
 the bondage and beggarly elements of 
 the law. It is indeed a Scriptural 
 and a glorious truth that when faith, 
 the gift of God, is imparted to a sinner, 
 his justification in the righteousness 
 of faith is at once and for ever com- 
 pleted* Earth can add nothing to it, 
 
156 
 
 and hell can take nothing away. The 
 sentence of acquittal obtained for him 
 by the interposition of his great 
 Mediator, is preserved in the archives 
 of Heaven, where no enemy can find 
 entrance to efface it, and the unchange- 
 ableness of Deity forbids any alter- 
 ation in its tenor. And it is a truth 
 no less Scriptural and glorious that the 
 merciful work of the Spirit in the 
 sinner's soul, although not wholly ac- 
 complished when the spark of faith 
 has been kindled, is commenced by a 
 process that will with infallible cer- 
 tainty terminate in completion — a 
 result secured by the nature of its 
 immutable Author, by the analogy of 
 every other divine procedure, and 
 by the pledged fidelity of God. But 
 in the operation of the Spirit of grace, 
 faith is not the end which he pursues, 
 but the means which he employs. Faith 
 is the instrument with which, working 
 uninterrupted within the soul, he 
 
157 
 
 effects its gradual and at length entire 
 conformity to the image of God. It is 
 the light which he sets up, and feeds, 
 within it, until shining brighter and 
 brighter, it disperses with silent but 
 potent influence, the darkness of 
 nature, and finally fills the soul with 
 all the glory of God. That there is a 
 growth in grace, the text before us 
 evidently implies. Premising that cer- 
 tain principles, affections, and habits 
 belong to every disciple of Christ, 
 we shall endeavour, with the divine 
 blessing, to demonstrate, that growth 
 in grace — or gradual advancement in 
 piety and its various characteristics — 
 will be the necessary consequence. 
 
 1. According to the uniform experi- 
 ence of the world, such is the constitu- 
 tion of the human mind, that every 
 opinion which it embraces will be 
 strengthened by time, unless under- 
 mined by the influence of passion, or dis- 
 pelled by the increase of knowledge, or 
 p 
 
158 
 
 overcome by the artifices of sophistry. 
 While it holds its seat, and prevails 
 in the mind, its tendency is to strike a 
 deeper root within it, and, if of a 
 practical nature, to spread over it a 
 widening influence. When a man 
 becomes a convert to any particular 
 class of principles, in order to secure 
 the growth of their influence, a direct 
 external encouragement is not usu- 
 ally necessary — time accomplishes the 
 work. Moreover the very possession 
 of those principles will usually lead to 
 a line of conduct calculated to react 
 upon them, and promote their stability 
 and power. Let a man, for instance, 
 become the sincere adherent of a 
 political party, and it is not when his 
 principles are new and unconfirmed by 
 continuance, that to eradicate them is 
 most difficult of accomplishment, but 
 when years have passed over them 
 and left them still unshaken in his 
 breast. The ardour of a novice in 
 
159 
 
 the cause may be more eagerly and 
 glaringly exhibited, but the strength 
 of principle will be found in the 
 veteran partizan. He has gone from 
 volume to volume, from meeting to 
 meeting, from action to action, in the 
 study and promotion of his cause; and 
 all this has had upon his mind a 
 powerful reaction, conservative and 
 corroborative of his sentiments. From 
 the perusal of every volume, from 
 the speeches of every meeting, from 
 the performance of every action, he 
 comes away more thoroughly devoted 
 than before to his political system. 
 Nor is it only by the influence of time, 
 but even by the force of external 
 opposition, that the growth of prin- 
 ciple is promoted. To recur to our 
 illustration, legislate against any par- 
 ticular creed, and you put its genuine 
 adherents almost beyond the possi- 
 bility of renouncing it; make them 
 the prisoners and the martyrs of it, 
 
160 
 
 and you most probably make it im- 
 mortal among them. Instances of this 
 nature might be multiplied, but it 
 would be superfluous to do it ; every 
 one will acknowledge that time, and 
 even opposition, tends to strengthen 
 principle. To account for this truth is 
 not now our business— that it is a truth 
 experience testifies, and that is enough 
 for our present purpose. That the 
 growth of principle may be counter- 
 acted by passion, by argument, or by 
 sophistry, has been already intimated 
 — and cases where it is so, are apparent 
 exceptions to the truth laid down ; 
 but all that we affirm is a tendency to 
 growth in every principle embraced by 
 the mind, and that, when not counter- 
 acted as described, it will grow in the 
 course of time, and in the face of 
 opposition. Now personal religion in- 
 volves unquestionably the holding of 
 certain opinions, entertained too on 
 grounds of conviction. Whether the 
 
161 
 
 Christian was first impressed by the 
 evidences of Revelation usually so 
 called, or by its evidences lying within 
 him, in the experience and necessities 
 of his own soul, or by both of these 
 together — whether with the energies 
 of an accomplished mind, he has 
 grasped the whole argument of the 
 Cross, while the Spirit of illumination 
 applied its import to his heart; or 
 whether in untaught simplicity he has 
 been enabled to submit himself to a 
 deep consciousness of guilt, and help- 
 lessness, and want of salvation such 
 as the Gospel proposes to mankind — 
 he is one who can give a reason for 
 the hope that is in him, one whose 
 opinions do not rest on the prejudice of 
 education, or the caprice of a season, 
 but were formed with consideration, 
 and are founded on conviction. In- 
 crease of knowledge instead of weak- 
 ening must therefore tend to confirm 
 them. Nor is it less than a moral im~ 
 p2 
 
162 
 
 possibility that the most perplexing 
 sophistry which his learning and ability 
 may be insufficient to disentangle shall 
 be finally successful in robbing him of 
 his sentiments, and of the hope to 
 which they have given birth in his 
 breast ; for the sense of interest con- 
 spires with the conviction of expe- 
 rience to guard him from such a 
 catastrophe. Who will forego, for all 
 that sophistry can advance, the enjoy- 
 ment of a hope which has a witness 
 in his own experience, and which the 
 most powerful sense of interest urges 
 him to retain? That the latter is 
 felt by every real Christian in connec- 
 tion with his hope of everlasting life 
 will not be denied. Nor less likely 
 does it appear than any opposing pas- 
 sion shall unseat his opinions, guarded 
 as they thus are. What passion so 
 powerful as the desire of life — eternal 
 life — when once it has arisen within, 
 and possessed the soul? There are 
 
163 
 
 also other passions of a sacred kind, 
 that spring from the Christian belief, 
 and oppose a mightier counteraction 
 to the influence of those passions 
 whose tendency may be to undermine 
 religious opinions. There is, in fact, 
 in the very nature of these opinions 
 when seriously and truly entertained, 
 a sort of security for their continuance. 
 There is something immortal in the 
 elements of piety — they are not of 
 earth, and tend uncontrollably to the 
 Heaven from which they came. They 
 are the work of eternal perfection, 
 and, like every atom of his universe 
 around us, are incapable of annihila- 
 tion by any created power. On this 
 point it is unnecessary to insist any 
 longer, for it is admitted by those 
 whose error we attempt to refute that 
 the faith of a genuine Christian is 
 guarded by still higher security, and 
 that encompassed by the intercession 
 of the Redeemer and the predestina- 
 
164 
 
 tion of God, it cannot fail. It may be 
 shewn, moreover, that the faith of a 
 Christian — even as the most Antino- 
 mian professor will describe it — is of 
 a practical tendency; that his opinions 
 even thus mutilated, are such as, if 
 really entertained, cannot fail to ame- 
 liorate the moral character. The 
 Antinomian admits the certainty of a 
 future judgment — and we appeal to 
 the consciousness of every rational 
 man, whether there be not something 
 in a thorough conviction of its cer- 
 tainty, calculated to sober and restrain 
 the heart? We ask whether it be the 
 same thing, so far as the moral 
 character is concerned, whether such 
 a conviction be deeply seated in the 
 mind, or be utterly absent from it? 
 The Antinomian admits the doctrine 
 of Christ's atonement. Is not there 
 something in that atonement that 
 proclaims intelligibly and loudly God's 
 hatred of sin and mercy to the sinner ? 
 
165 
 
 Does not it therefore tend to awaken 
 in the mind that realizes it, a dread of 
 sin and a grateful sense of unmerited 
 and infinite kindness on the part of 
 Him who has so peculiarly put it away? 
 And will not this gratitude be produc- 
 tive of the only return that man can 
 present unto God — obedience to his 
 will? The Antinomian admits that 
 the Spirit of grace is a Holy Spirit, 
 and dwells with continuous influence 
 in the Children of God — is there no- 
 thing of a sanctifying tendency in the 
 very belief of this, where belief of it 
 is unfeigned? He admits too that the 
 world whereto he looks forward is a 
 world wherein righteousness alone 
 shall dwell— that all its inhabitants, 
 whether Saints redeemed or Angels 
 elect, shall be holy in the most compre- 
 hensive sense of that word; in this 
 belief too, when genuine, is there no 
 sanctifying tendency? It is indeed 
 difficult if not impossible to conceive 
 
166 
 
 how such truths as those now men- 
 tioned can be realized in the con- 
 victions of a human mind, and pro- 
 duce no effect on its moral condition. 
 Violence must first be done to its 
 nature, and the whole current of affec- 
 tion must be forced from its natural 
 channels. Every truth fitted to excite 
 emotion, will excite its corresponding 
 emotion, when believed; and if the 
 emotion be fitted to affect the conduct, 
 the conduct will be affected accordingly, 
 as in the instance under our conside- 
 ration. Hence many persons have been 
 Antinomians in theory who have been 
 far otherwise in practice. Notwith- 
 standing some ingredients of an op- 
 posite tendency, their religious system 
 contains so much that is necessarily 
 sanctifying, as to render it impossible 
 to hold it in sincerity, imperfect as it 
 is, without an amelioration of the cha- 
 racter; and where that amelioration 
 has not at all taken place, the very 
 
167 
 
 constitution of the human mind forbids 
 the supposition that profession is ac- 
 companied by faith unfeigned. The 
 opinions of a Christian, then, even as 
 imperfectly represented by the persons 
 whose peculiar doctrine we now dis- 
 pute, are of a practical tendency. 
 When truly entertained, they are no 
 less than those of the politician, prin- 
 ciples of conduct. And if, as we have 
 seen, principles continuing in the mind 
 become stronger by the influence of 
 time and even of external opposition, 
 what reason is there to suppose that 
 in the instance of religious principles 
 is found an exception from this law of 
 our nature ? Must not the principles of 
 the Christian become stronger by time, 
 and in the midst of outward opposi- 
 tion, no less than the principles of the 
 political partizan ? And as they grow 
 in strength and stability, must not their 
 practical influence increase in pro- 
 portion ? Their permanence is secured 
 
168 
 
 by their very nature, and by the 
 covenant of eternal mercy; and, if 
 permanent, it is a law of our mental 
 constitution that they shall not stag- 
 nate in their incipient feebleness, but 
 shall gather force and pour onward, 
 until they pervade and purify every 
 region of the soul. 
 
 2. The observations we have now 
 made concerning the growth of prin- 
 ciple apply equally to the growth of 
 affection. The latter, like the former, 
 may be stifled by a variety of causes; 
 but, if abiding, it will be strengthened 
 by the influence of time, and even out- 
 ward opposition will serve to confirm 
 it. To illustrate this by a familiar 
 instance — when the passion of avarice 
 takes possession of the soul, it may 
 possibly be dislodged by the lessons 
 of wisdom, or by the subsequent 
 developement of some conflicting and 
 more powerful passion — but if it con- 
 tinues within, it will be progressive in 
 
169 
 
 its influence. Time will add strength 
 to it, and the external restraint that is 
 intended to extinguish it will only sup- 
 ply fuel for the flame. And the pas- 
 sion will impel him who is the subject 
 of it, to those actions, which tend to 
 confirm and increase it. The miser 
 will gaze in secret on his golden idol, 
 and the ruling propensity of his soul 
 will grow while he gazes — he will 
 calculate in his solitary musings the 
 coming augmentation of his stores, 
 and the very indulgence of this favorite 
 employment will confirm the affection 
 that prompted him to it — he will sur- 
 vey the ample estates that are the 
 well-earned reward of more than mo- 
 nastic mortification, and as the glow of 
 exultation rises within him at the sight, 
 the passion that absorbs his mind 
 becomes more absorbing still. Now 
 personal religion involves the existence 
 of certain affections. It is an impossi- 
 bility, arising out of the very nature 
 Q 
 
170 
 
 of the human mind, that a future 
 judgment should be thoroughly be- 
 lieved, without habitual awe at the 
 thought, of criminality, resulting from 
 the belief of it* It is equally contrary 
 to man's mental nature, that the reality 
 of Christ's redemption should be mat- 
 ter of serious conviction, without pro- 
 ducing gratitude to its divine Author. 
 It is no less impossible to believe the 
 promises of the New Testament with- 
 out hoping for their accomplishment—- 
 and to believe that holiness is the 
 character of Heaven, and the essence 
 of happiness, without desiring holiness 
 — and to believe that sin shut the 
 gates of Paradise, opened those of 
 hell, and, when laid on our Mediator, 
 brought him to the cross and to the 
 sepulchre, without abhorring sin. If 
 then affections, where they are 
 abiding, grow and are confirmed (as 
 we have seen) — and if religion has its 
 affections (whose continuance through 
 
m 
 
 life is secured) what reason have we 
 to conclude that in the instance of re- 
 ligious affections this law of our men- 
 tal constitution is suspended, and that 
 they alone do not grow with the 
 growth of time, and strengthen with 
 the strength of opposition? Is it not 
 reasonable on the contrary to conclude 
 that the various affections to which 
 faith gives birth in the soul, because 
 they shall continue there throughout 
 all her pilgrimage, must wax more and 
 more powerful, and gain progressively 
 a greater and more settled influence 
 over the mind and character? 
 
 3, Observations of a similar kind 
 will also apply in the case of habits — 
 which time is found to confirm, and 
 external opposition to strengthen, 
 where they continue appended to the 
 character. The force of principle may 
 gradually undo a long cherished habit, 
 and the force of passion may suddenly 
 break it up — but if no cause exist to 
 
172 
 
 cut short its continuance, it will grow 
 and strengthen upon us. All experi- 
 ence declares that such is the nature 
 of man. Every occasion whereon the 
 drunkard indulges in his debasing 
 practice, will leave the habits of intem- 
 perance more powerful upon him ; and 
 every victory achieved by the drunkard 
 reformed, over the vice that prostrated 
 him before, will make the habits of 
 temperance sit easier upon him. The 
 man of God has his habits too. He 
 has his habits of public and private 
 devotion, of watchfulness and of ac- 
 tivity in the service of his Saviour — 
 for the authority of that Saviour has 
 enjoined upon him the duties of pray- 
 ing always, of watching against the 
 influence of temptation, of working 
 the works of holiness to the glory of 
 God. And shall not these habits be 
 confirmed by time, and strengthened 
 by continuance? It is true they are 
 contrary to nature, and if left to all her 
 
173 
 
 spontaneous workings nature would 
 finally expel them — but their conti- 
 nuance is secured by the continuance 
 of the principles and affections from 
 which they result. — and continuing, 
 they must increase in vigour and influ- 
 ence. If even outward restraint and 
 violent opposition will not cure the 
 intemperate of his habits, or graft 
 them on the character of a virtuous 
 man instead of the habits formed by 
 temperance, but only produce the 
 contrary of the effect intended; neither 
 will the opposition of mistaken zeal 
 on the part of the unbelieving, era- 
 dicate from the Christian's life the 
 habits of piety and purity, but only 
 become the means of augmenting their 
 force. 
 
 4. Here it is to be remarked how a 
 voluntary agency on the part of the 
 believer becomes the means of con- 
 firming the principles, affections, and 
 habits, that have given rise to it. As 
 
 q2 
 
174 
 
 the political partizan will be led by his 
 principles to that line of conduct which 
 tends to confirm them — as the victim 
 of avarice will be prompted by the 
 affection which sways him to those acts 
 which tend to cherish and invigorate 
 that affection — as the habitually tem- 
 perate, or intemperate, will be carried 
 along by the habits which rule him to 
 the practice by which those habits 
 acquire additional influence over him — 
 so will the Christian be led by holier 
 principles, prompted by purer affec- 
 tions, and carried along by better 
 habits, in that course of conduct whose 
 tendency is to promote their growth 
 and stability. He will frequent the 
 house of God; he will study the 
 volume of inspiration, and compo- 
 sitions which draw from that fountain 
 and lead the mind to it; he will employ 
 his resources and opportunities in pro- 
 moting the cause of sacred truth — and 
 all this will subserve the end of 
 
175 
 
 corroborating his principles. He will 
 survey through the medium of reve- 
 lation the goodly heritage which has 
 devolved upon him by his Redeemer's 
 death — he will feed on the sweetness 
 of divine promise, and enter not 
 seldom into close and blissful com- 
 munion with his God — and all this will 
 subserve the end of invigorating the 
 heavenly affections by which he is 
 animated. He will be impelled by a 
 holy habit to the discharge of the duties 
 of piety and benevolence — and the 
 performance of these duties, as often 
 as it is repeated, will add strength to 
 the habits of holiness. 
 
 We contemplate the Christian, then, 
 as distinguished by peculiar principles, 
 affections, and habits, whose conti- 
 nuance to the end of his career is effec- 
 tually secured. But it arises out of 
 man's internal constitution that his 
 principles, affections, and habits, pro- 
 vided they continue, grow stronger, 
 
176 
 
 and become confirmed in the course of 
 time, and in the way of natural con- 
 sequence. Hence it is reasonable to 
 look for such a result in the case of 
 personal Christianity. The principles 
 affections and habits, peculiar to the 
 Christian, must, like all others, de- 
 velope a gradual growth. They will 
 lead to the line of conduct which 
 confirms them. Their own effects 
 will react upon them, and augment 
 their influence. They will accumulate 
 strength by a process that offers no 
 violence to the mental constitution, 
 but on the contrary arises out of it. 
 They bring with them into the be- 
 lievers breast the elements of their 
 future expansion, the principle of 
 vitality that is destined to unfold all 
 their loveliness in a holier sphere of 
 being. As the incipient sprouting of 
 the acorn springs from the same 
 mighty principle of vegetation that 
 subsequently strikes deep the roots, 
 
177 
 
 and evolves on high the boughs, of the 
 forest oak, so in the infancy of the 
 Christian life that heavenly principle 
 is at work, whose operation in its final 
 stage will produce the holiness of a 
 perfect condition. 
 
 The foregoing reasoning militates 
 not against that doctrine of Revelation 
 by which the birth, increase, and con- 
 tinuance of personal religion are as- 
 cribed to the influence of the Divine 
 Spirit. It may be said that in every 
 plant exists a tendency to expand, 
 under circumstances favorable to the 
 process of vegetation, without any im- 
 plied denial of the doctrine that vege- 
 tation in the loftiest tree and in the 
 humblest shrub is alike to be attri- 
 buted to the operation of that Power, 
 who formed the primordial seeds of 
 all verdure, gave to every plant its 
 expansive tendency, and causes his 
 sun to shine, and his showers to des- 
 cend, without which its maturity can- 
 
178 
 
 not be unfolded. And may not an 
 expansive tendency be attributed to 
 the elements of personal piety, without 
 any implied denial of the doctrine that 
 the Spirit of the living God in every 
 instance originates the being of those 
 elements, gave them their tendency to 
 growth, and maintains their conti- 
 nuance within, while the light and 
 dews of cooperating providence des- 
 cend upon them, and promote their 
 maturity? Nay, while we ascribe to 
 these elements, as it were an inherent 
 tendency to growth, arising out of the 
 constitution of the human mind, we 
 do not deny that the divine influ- 
 ence extends its effect beyond the 
 mere maintenance of their being 
 within; and strengthens and dilates 
 them with a direct and immediate 
 operation. But what effect will such 
 an operation have on the expansive 
 tendency which, we hope, has been 
 proved to belong to them, except to 
 
179 
 
 increase it? If a principle existing 
 within, be increased by an external 
 influence, the expansive tendency 
 which may belong to it, is augmented 
 too. And if the elements of personal 
 religion possess such a tendency, the 
 divine influence which confirms and 
 invigorates them, must necessarily 
 augment that tendency. 
 
 Antinomianisin, then, is irrational 
 as it is unscriptural. It is founded on 
 ignorance of human nature no less 
 than on ignorance of the Bible. They 
 who reject the doctrine of a growth in 
 grace, maintain opinions at variance 
 with the daily experience of mankind. 
 They affirm it to be possible, that a 
 system of principles, a train of affec- 
 tions and habits, may exist perma- 
 nently in the character of man, 
 without a progressive augmentation 
 of strength — may repose in lethargic 
 inaction, in continual sameness of state, 
 such as is known elsewhere neither in 
 
180 
 
 the universe of matter nor in the 
 universe of mind* Wheresoever we 
 turn our eyes, or our thoughts, all 
 things are in motion; the progress of 
 life or of decay, the progress of im- 
 provement, or of deterioration, meets 
 us on every side. Does the history of 
 personal religion form a solitary excep- 
 tion amid this general uniformity? 
 If we cannot credit the stagnation in 
 the human mind of principles which 
 are earthly in their origin, how shall 
 we credit the stagnation of principles 
 which are Heavenly? Are the latter 
 more feeble in their kind, and there- 
 fore incapable of self-expansion ? But 
 should we even suppose that all which 
 constitutes inward piety remains in 
 the soul without increase from the 
 hour when it is first implanted, still 
 there must be a growth of practical 
 holiness. For it will be conceded bv 
 our opponents that the elements of 
 piety, howsoever they may be defined, 
 
181 
 
 meet with conflicting elements in every 
 mind into which they are infused 
 and are combated too by the influence 
 of habits previously formed. Is it at 
 once, then, that the elements of dark- 
 ness are subjected to the dominion of 
 faith ; or by a gradual operation ? Is 
 it at once we become acquainted with 
 all in our characters that exalts itself 
 against the knowledge of Christ; oris 
 it from time to time that we make 
 discoveries of it? And how can the 
 workings of depraved nature be cap- 
 tivated to the obedience of faith, 
 except as they are detected, and 
 known to us? 
 
 The exhortation of the Apostle, 
 " grow in grace," if the Antinomian 
 system were true, would lay upon us 
 a command in every sense imprac- 
 ticable. But if the elements of per- 
 sonal religion, no less than other prin- 
 ciples, grow in the mind, and prompt 
 to a line of conduct that reacts upon, 
 
 R 
 
182 
 
 strengthens, and confirms them, then 
 we see the exhortation invested with a 
 perfect propriety. Believers may with 
 propriety be exhorted to a believing 
 use of every means of spiritual im- 
 provement; and if such improvement 
 must follow, even in the way of natural 
 consequence, to exhort them to a 
 believing use of means is equivalent 
 to the exhortation "grow in grace." 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 . 
 
sEBsos vii; 
 
 THE ADAPTATION OF CHRISTIANITY 
 
 TO THE VARIETIES OF NATURAL 
 
 CHARACTER. 
 
 Isaiah xi. 6 — 9. 
 
 " The wolf also shall dwell with the 
 lamb and the leopard shall lie down 
 with the kid; and the calf and the young 
 lion and the fatling together; and a 
 little child shall lead them. And the 
 cow and the bear shall feed; their young 
 ones shall lie doivn together: and the 
 lion shall eat straw like the ooc. And 
 the sucking child shall play on the hole 
 of the asp 9 and the iveaned child shall 
 put his hand on the cockatrice' den. 
 They shall not hurt nor destroy in all 
 my holy mountain" 
 
 That the Christian religion is pe- 
 culiarly and exclusively adapted to 
 
184 
 
 the actual state of human nature has 
 been often and justly insisted on. It 
 is a remedy for our great moral 
 disease, bearing upon it the authen- 
 ticating seal of its divine author. 
 Wondrously fitted at once to pacify 
 the guilty conscience, and overcome 
 depravity, it carries with it an inherent 
 evidence of its heavenly original. It 
 performs a work too high for any 
 other to perform — it reconciles the 
 sinner with God ; and diffuses, where- 
 ever its influences are admitted, a 
 transforming power over the moral 
 character of mankind, which acts with 
 equal efficacy on every state and grade 
 of society. Its superiority over every 
 other system claiming the authority 
 of revealed religion, is either directly 
 acknowledged, or virtually conceded, 
 by infidels. Every other they can 
 pass with contemptuous neglect, while 
 they do involuntary homage before 
 the shrine of Christianity, with a li- 
 
185 
 
 bation of their hostile zeal, poured out 
 in unintermitted and bitterest effusion. 
 Why single out our religion as the 
 object of peculiar malevolence, and 
 pursue its ruin with their highest 
 efforts, if there be nothing peculiar 
 about it ? Why behold with an indul- 
 gent smile the obscene and sanguinary 
 abominations of heathenism in its most 
 revolting form, and then turn with 
 irreconcileable hate on the purity and 
 gentleness of Christianity? What is 
 this but a virtual acknowledgement 
 that she possesses an importance pe- 
 culiar to herself? To exhibit hate as 
 the spirit of infidelity exhibits it, is to 
 pay to its object a tribute of reluctant 
 respect. Were Christianity indeed 
 worthy to be numbered among des- 
 picable superstitions, it would at least 
 be treated like them. But so univer- 
 sally is her superior dignity allowed, 
 that none but philosophy is deemed 
 worthy of entering the lists against 
 r2 
 
186 
 
 her. — That philosophy in her ancient 
 form was unequal to the task of re- 
 generating a world, has been proved by 
 facts too well known ta render more 
 than an allusion to them necessary 
 here. In her modern form, arrayed 
 in the partial glory she has borrowed 
 from Revelation, and employing for 
 the destruction of the sanctuary a fire 
 stolen from its altar, what has she 
 done for mankind ? What can she do ? 
 That portion of religious truth which 
 although not actually discovered, is yet 
 demonstrable, by reason, and to which 
 the too ambiguous appellation of 
 "natural religion" has been applied, 
 might suffice for a world where no 
 guilt has already been incurred. It 
 might be there enough to know that 
 God is glorious in all his attributes, 
 and every created intelligence respon- 
 sible to his authority. But try such 
 truths at the pillow of a dying sinner, 
 and what will they avail? Here 
 
187 
 
 Christianity alone can minister with 
 effect — she must bind up the sinners 
 broken heart, or it must bleed on 
 for ever. 
 
 In considering the adaptation of 
 Christianity to the varieties of natural 
 character, we shall take it for granted 
 that human natureis fallen; only re- 
 marking at present that in a world 
 where the conscience of guilt is less 
 or more universal, guilt itself must be 
 universal too. We shall, then, con- 
 sider Christianity as not more adapted 
 to the fallen state of man in general, 
 than it is to particular modifications of 
 human guilt. For although we believe, 
 in equal consonance with reason and 
 with revelation, that the same elements 
 of corruption are found in every human 
 breast, it is yet an obvious fact that 
 some of these are developed more 
 prominently than others, in different 
 individuals, according to the different 
 influence of accidental causes; and 
 
188 
 
 the mire of our moral material is 
 variously moulded into vessels of dis- 
 honour, by education, by the events of 
 life, and by animal temperament. 
 
 The human character, like the hu- 
 man countenance, appears to be infi- 
 nitely diversified, so that in the former 
 as well as in the latter, an exact 
 coincidence cannot perhaps be found 
 between any two individuals. There 
 are, however, a few grand distinctions, 
 which will be acknowledged the most 
 important, as they are the most ob- 
 servable, even though it should be 
 doubted whether all shades of dif- 
 ference are comprehended under them. 
 To these classes of character we shall 
 confine our remarks. It is scarcely 
 necessary to premise that the more 
 prominent developement, and not the 
 exclusive possession, of a particular 
 feature of character, is that which 
 determines each class. The most 
 distinct and even opposite classes shall 
 
189 
 
 be selected; for if Christianity be 
 found adapted to opposite modifica- 
 tions of character, no difficulty will 
 be felt in admitting its adaptation to 
 the intervening shades. 
 
 1. The most common modification 
 of human character is perhaps the 
 sensual. Multitudes having grown to 
 maturity without education, spending 
 life in procuring the means of living, 
 and devoid of the influences of religion, 
 exhibit every day this pitiable spectacle 
 of degradation. In them the intel- 
 lectual is merged in the animal exis- 
 tence; and could no fairer examples of 
 humanity be found, the claim of our 
 species to the dignity of rationals 
 might almost be disputed. It is 
 mournful to remember how many 
 there are to whom this description 
 must apply, in countries nominally 
 civilized, as well as in those confes- 
 sedly savage. It were a thing to 
 deplore only, and not to condemn, 
 
190 
 
 were this imprisonment of the mind 
 altogether involuntary. But it is far 
 otherwise. They who would ameli- 
 orate the human condition, find man 
 every where capable of improvement, 
 but too often averse from the process. 
 It is not the ignorant who will most 
 readily attend to the communications 
 of wisdom, nor the sensual who will 
 most highly esteem the lessons of 
 virtue. There are some of the pre- 
 sent class on whom the efforts of the 
 philosopher and of the moralist are 
 especially thrown away — and such may 
 be met in every rank of society. 
 There is, however, one striking cir- 
 cumstance generally attending this 
 kind of degradation, that is, a lingering 
 sense of acknowledged guilt. Ordi- 
 nary sin may, in a great degree, hide 
 her hideousness from her captives; 
 but sin of the grosser sort cannot so 
 blind her victim to the wretchedness 
 of his condition. The poor profligate 
 
191 
 
 who has long done violence to a striv- 
 ing conscience, and fallen infinitely 
 below even his own moral standard, 
 however low he may have fixed it, has 
 no pretext left him for attempting 
 self-justification. His iniquities are 
 "known and read by all men," and 
 glare too strongly on him to escape 
 his observation. Hence, under God, 
 it comes to pass that the thunders of 
 the divine law so often wake a loud 
 echo in his soul, and he trembles at the 
 "wrath denounced against all ungod- 
 liness and unrighteousnes of men." 
 Hence the Gospel message is so often 
 known to overwhelm him with glad 
 surprize, and melt all his affections 
 into grateful adoration. The suffer- 
 ings of his sinless Redeemer present 
 a soul-touching contrast to the vile- 
 ness of his own self- wrought ruin ; and 
 to know that Redeemer suffered for 
 the chief of sinners, while he feels 
 himself to be such, moves him as he 
 
192 
 
 never before was moved. — It is obvious 
 that all this will apply in proportion 
 to the lesser degress of sensual aban- 
 donment. All, but the atheist, have 
 some standard of morals — it may be 
 so erroneously fixed as to rank with 
 virtues, or palliate, many sins of the 
 mind, but there will ever be sins of 
 the flesh condemned by the most 
 imperfect standard. Hence our Lord 
 declared to the self-vindicating Pha- 
 risees, "verily I say unto you the 
 Publicans and the harlots enter into 
 the kingdom of God before you." 
 The rich and free provisions of 
 divine salvation are indeed wonderfully 
 adapted to the condition of all man- 
 kind; but this adaptation is more 
 generally remarkable in the instance 
 we are upon, where guilt is more 
 palpably evident to itself and others. 
 It ought not to be so, yet it is so. 
 The Scriptures appear to represent the 
 sins of the mind as worst in the divine 
 
193 
 
 estimation, and they ought con- 
 sequently to be so in ours — but in the 
 world at large the fact is otherwise. 
 While the vices of the heart are 
 generally glossed over, palliated, or 
 defended, grosser vices are as ge- 
 nerally allowed to be such by him 
 whom they have enslaved, as well as 
 by all others. Therefore conviction 
 of guilt goes commonly deeper, and is 
 more intolerable, when such persons 
 are brought into penitence before God; 
 and, as the passage above quoted 
 intimates, there will commonly be 
 then a proportionate demand for full 
 and free pardon, and a willingness to 
 accept it. With what a majesty of 
 mercy does the Gospel meet such a 
 case. It lays no limit on the offered 
 pardon ; it makes no merit a condition 
 of the proposed acceptance. It dis- 
 plays not at distance a future attain- 
 able salvation, but brings nigh a 
 present and complete one, announcing 
 s 
 
194 
 
 that W he who believeth on the Soo 
 hath everlasting life." 
 
 Nor is it less adapted to regenerate 
 the character than to pacify the con- 
 science of the penitent prodigal. 
 Once enabled to receive the truth 
 in love, he will be led by a sense of 
 interest, by duty, by inclination, to 
 converse often with the communi- 
 cations of truth. Here every thing is 
 holy and tends to the production of 
 holiness. He finds a moral system 
 enforced by the authority of his Re- 
 deemer, with which any thing known 
 elsewhere will not endure compa- 
 rison. Its lessons are all for the heart ; 
 and inculcate purity, and heal cor- 
 ruption, at the fountain of the affec- 
 tions. They search out iniquity 
 through all its lurking places, drag it 
 into day, and expose its deformity to 
 the reprobation of conscience, how- 
 ever the moralists of another school 
 may seek to disguise it. They admit 
 d ewodg btm t bhow eU 
 
195 
 
 among the actuating principles of 
 obedience no motive unbecoming a 
 Creature responsible to his Creator, 
 but lay the foundations of virtue deep 
 in the knowledge, the love, the 
 reverence, of the most High, He 
 finds this moral system recommended 
 by many impressive examples, above 
 all by that of Him who not only spoke 
 as no other spoke, but lived as no other 
 lived. The awful sanctity of this 
 perfect example is softened, and ren- 
 dered more interesting still, by a 
 variety of affecting circumstances 
 through the medium of which it is 
 presented. The lustre of divinity 
 shines mellowed through the cloud of 
 humanity. In all the doctrines, in all 
 the recorded 6r predicted providences, 
 in every portion of the sacred word, 
 is the same divine holiness brought 
 before him. His mind is placed in 
 contact with the purity of God. And 
 when revelation lifts the veil of the 
 invisible world, and shows him angelic 
 
196 ' 
 
 existence, a reflection of that purity 
 again descends upon him. He is in- 
 troduced altogether into a new scene, 
 where he converses with virtue in all 
 her heavenly forms. He breathes an 
 atmosphere of moral salubrity. The 
 fever of sensuality abates, the health 
 of his soul returns, and he is created 
 anew by faith in Christ Jesus. These 
 are effects which no other religion could 
 have wrought upon him. Others lend 
 the sanction of pretended authority 
 to vice, and consecrate the corruptions 
 of human nature, or denounce them 
 feebly and partially at best — while 
 Christianity wages exterminating war 
 against them with all the force of her 
 vindicated claims; nor does she com- 
 bat them with mere prohibition, but 
 brings to operate against them a host 
 of sacred influences. Inducing holier 
 habits of mind, she applies an effectual 
 counteraction at the very source of 
 depravity. 
 2. The prominent developement of 
 
197 
 
 pride constitutes another remarkable 
 distinction of character. What pride 
 is, it were superfluous to define, since 
 it is in some degree a subject of con- 
 sciousness to every one. It is obvious 
 indeed that this passion powerfully 
 tends to hinder the reception of the 
 Gospel, especially when combined with 
 outward decorum of life. It is this 
 that builds up the strong-hold of self- 
 justification, bids defiance to the thun- 
 ders of the law, and scorns the strain 
 of redeeming mercy. While the con- 
 sciousness of abandoned and gross 
 criminality becomes often the means, 
 under God, of procuring for the em- 
 bassy of salvation a serious hearing, 
 the proud imagination of moral excel- 
 lence no less often fortifies the heart, 
 and closes the ear, against it. But as 
 the Gospel, when received by the 
 penitent profligate, meets him with a 
 salvation fully and exclusively com- 
 mensurate to the wants of his guilty 
 
 s 
 
198 
 
 and depraved condition, providing 
 equally for the peace of his conscience 
 and the regeneration of his character 
 — so, when received into a naturally 
 proud and self-applauding mind, it is 
 no less adapted to the exigencies of 
 its peculiar case. The profligate may 
 continue impenitent and unbelieving — 
 the proud moralist may be humbled 
 and brought to a joyful confession of 
 faith; but what we desired to point 
 out was not a willingness to hear the 
 Gospel more usual in the former, but 
 an adaptation in the Gospel to the 
 peculiarities of his case — and what 
 we would at present point out, is not 
 an aversion from the Gospel more 
 usual in the latter, but an adaptation 
 of it to the peculiarities of his case 
 too, when its doctrines are cordially 
 embraced. We speak of an exclusive 
 adaptation in the Christian Religion 
 to heal and regenerate the various 
 modifications of human depravity; 
 
199 
 
 and it is evident that the influence of 
 its doctrines can be experienced only 
 where they are believed. We shall 
 now consider how it heals the malady 
 under consideration. 
 
 The pride of self-righteousness 
 evidently is fostered by the recognition 
 of an imperfect standard of duty. So 
 long as it is believed that a few ex- 
 ternal religious rites, with occasional 
 almsgiving, and a general decorum in 
 the intercourse of life, make up all 
 that is required from man by the re- 
 lation wherein he stands to God, so 
 long the complacency of the Pharisee 
 may be maintained within ; for a 
 standard so low may be reached with- 
 out difficulty, and is reached by the 
 practice of many. But elevate the 
 standard — and in proportion as this 
 is done, complacency will decline ; for 
 as our views of duty are exalted, we 
 shall feel that we have acted below 
 them. We cannot elevate our conduct 
 
200 
 
 past, in proportion as our views of 
 what we ought to have done become 
 elevated. While the understanding is 
 enlightened on the subject of duty, the 
 foundations of self-righteousness are 
 therefore undermined. If it be be- 
 lieved that to give unto God an un- 
 reserved devotion of the heart and life 
 would be only to comply with the 
 requirements of a reasonable service, 
 the self-complacency of proud ignor- 
 ance is at an end — since it is a fact 
 that below such a standard of duty 
 all mankind have infinitely fallen. 
 And such is the standard of duty 
 which the Gospel actually displays. 
 Therefore to believe the Gospel and 
 indulge self-righteousness involves a 
 practical contradiction. The examples 
 of holiness recorded in Scripture, and 
 above all that of our Lord himself, 
 tend to produce the same feeling of 
 abasement, while they are contrasted 
 with the deficiency which he who 
 
201 
 
 seriously considers them will perceive 
 in himself. The doctrines of Scrip- 
 ture have all a similar tendency. It 
 is surely humbling to learn that our 
 common nature has so deeply lapsed 
 from original righteousnes, that every 
 imagination to which it gives birth 
 "is only evil continually," and that the 
 human heart " is deceitful above all 
 things and desperately wicked." It 
 is humbling to discover, so infinite 
 was the guilt contracted by men, that 
 the ransom requisite for its removal 
 was the blood of the infinitely glorious 
 and holy one. It is humbling to be as- 
 sured, so strong and inveterate is our 
 natural depravity that, ere we can 
 even desire to be healed, an operation 
 of almighty power must pass upon us. 
 Nor less humbling is the awful truth 
 which declares mankind so vile that, 
 as the potter moulds variously at his 
 will the same worthless clay, so God 
 without injustice deals with the worth- 
 
202 
 
 less material of our fallen nature, 
 subjecting it, in one instance, to a 
 process of amelioration, and, in ano- 
 ther giving it up to a process of 
 deterioration, according to his So- 
 vereign pleasure. The recorded and 
 the predicted visitations of judgment 
 in this world are humbling. The 
 denunciations of a wrath, reserved be- 
 yond the grave for the wicked, are 
 humbling. The image of the heavenly 
 state, presented in the inspired page, 
 is humbling — for what a contrast is 
 exhibited by the best estate of man on 
 earth ! Every thing in the volume of 
 revealed wisdom is invested with an 
 abasing power. God has charged his 
 Revelation with a universal com- 
 mission to lay low the thoughts of 
 every heart into which she finds an 
 entrance. But it is important to ob- 
 serve that the very system of truth 
 which humbles the mind, at the same 
 time soothes and animates it — in- 
 
203 
 
 spiring the highest hopes, and impar- 
 ting the most permanent peace, 
 Christianity manages the heart with 
 that mixture of tenderness and firm- 
 ness which is ever morally irresistible. 
 She lays us in the dust, but it is that 
 she may the better elevate us to heaven. 
 This is the most effectual discipline to 
 which pride can be subjected. And a 
 soul subdued to God will be meek 
 toward man. A prevailing sense of 
 unworthiness will lower our demands 
 on the homage of our fellow-creatures ; 
 and a contrite spirit will produce a 
 humble demeanour. A truth so evi- 
 dent has no need of proof. 
 
 Anger, malevolence, envy, if not 
 mere modifications of pride, are at 
 least among the effects and inseparable 
 attendants of it. As pride decreases 
 they will therefore decrease. When 
 the stem from which they hang is cut 
 asunder, they will wither away. But 
 Christianity has in her stores some- 
 
204 
 
 what peculiarly adapted to eradicate 
 each of them. The realizing foresight 
 of a wrath to come tends powerfully 
 to moderate anger in a sinful mortal. 
 The meekness and gentleness of a 
 Saviour, professedly recorded for our 
 imitation, more powerfully tend the 
 same way. The divine forbearance 
 affectingly remonstrates against an 
 unforbearing temper; the precepts of 
 wisdom, softened and strengthened 
 by the claims of love, plead effectually 
 with it. The views imparted by 
 Christianity concerning the condition 
 of mankind, and the knowledge that 
 she gives of a remedy universally 
 applicable, were it universally ap- 
 preciated, will originate sentiments of 
 pity and benevolence toward the 
 human race; and the views of her 
 disciple on the subject of that peculiar 
 and endearing relation which obtains 
 among the Children of God, will bind 
 his affections to them with a tie yet 
 
205 
 
 stronger. Where shall anger, male- 
 volence, and envy, then find room for 
 the exercise of uncontrolled dominion? 
 Much more might be said on this por- 
 tion of our subject, if the assigned 
 limits of a Sermon permitted; and 
 the special adaptation of Christianity 
 to the cure of each of those maladies 
 might be shown more at large. But 
 the principle point has, we hope, 
 sufficiently been illustrated— namely, 
 that Christianity lays the axe to the 
 root of them all, pride. No other 
 religion does this — the doctrine of 
 human depravity, borne out as it is 
 by fact and experience, is absolutely 
 peculiar to the Christian. The prin- 
 ciple of legalism enters essentially 
 into every other system; they are all 
 founded on the assumption of a power, 
 inherent in man, of effecting his own 
 justification before God. Hence the 
 passion of pride, laid low by the doc- 
 trine of the cross, is fostered and 
 
206 
 
 invigorated by every other; and con- 
 sequently its train of attendant evils 
 is encouraged also. A powerless pro- 
 hibition is laid upon it, whose force is 
 counteracted and nullified by the 
 general tendency of the system. 
 
 3. Another class of character, dis- 
 tinct from the foregoing, and not less 
 worthy of remark, is what may be 
 denominated the timid. Many qua- 
 lities of amiable aspect originate in 
 timidity of disposition; a yielding fa- 
 cility, an unoffending gentleness, a 
 retiring diffidence, are frequently its 
 offspring. But in a world where 
 temptations are thickly strown, and 
 virtue must encounter opposition, an 
 upright course cannot be maintained 
 without the exercise of fortitude. 
 Here the timid fail. The influence of 
 example and persuasion hurry them 
 down a career of folly, against which 
 their own judgment protests, and their 
 weak struggles are exerted, in vain. 
 
207 
 
 The amount of their criminality is 
 more than would result from their own 
 unbiassed election. With the virtuous 
 they may admire virtue, with the 
 pious they may approve of piety ; but 
 the company of the dissolute and 
 profane sweeps, like a torrent, all their 
 better thoughts away. They lack the 
 firm boldness necessary for resisting 
 the frown, the laugh, and the seduction, 
 of society. There is also another 
 defect allied closely with timidity of 
 mind — it usually generates a des- 
 ponding habit; for the same imagi- 
 nation that invests an approaching 
 evil with additional terrors, will natu- 
 rally anticipate a distant or uncertain 
 one, until the actual calamities of life 
 are reinforced with a host of others 
 existing only in idea. The unhappy 
 consequences are evident. The cloud 
 of despondency sheds a damp on the 
 kindling conception of every great and 
 good undertaking. Obstacles to the 
 
208 
 
 completion of it are magnified where 
 they are, and imagined where they are 
 not. The difficulties that oppose the 
 attainment of excellence in the noblest 
 departments, those of piety and worth, 
 are real and momentous — contem- 
 plated with the eye of despondency, 
 they are insuperable. Hope is the 
 soul of enterprize — despondency is the 
 death of it ; and piety has her enter- 
 prizes which need an animating influ- 
 ence. Such appear to be the most 
 prominent defects allied to the timid 
 character. We shall now consider 
 how the Gospel is adapted to remove 
 them. 
 
 A characteristic prominence of timi- 
 dity implies of course a peculiar sus- 
 ceptibility of the impressions of fear. 
 If this very susceptibility, in whose 
 pervertion originate all the defects 
 peculiar to the present class of cha- 
 racter, be found actually employed 
 for the regeneration of that character, 
 
209 
 
 the exquisite arrangement of eternal 
 wisdom is beautifully exhibited before 
 us. It is indeed partly by such a 
 method that Christianity makes up 
 the moral breach of the timid cha- 
 racter. Does she then perpetuate the 
 evil she would heal? No— the fear 
 she employs is rational and noble; it 
 is only that which she expels that is 
 base and absurd. The filial reverence 
 of the Father of spirits is just and 
 dignified in the most exalted of 
 creatures ; and this is one engine which 
 Christianity moves against the en- 
 thralling fear of the world. The 
 malign influence of unhallowed society 
 is neutralized in a mind that realizes 
 the presence, and bows to the autho- 
 rity, of God. This potent principle 
 (which we have already proved the 
 exclusive offering of Christianity*) 
 emboldens and invigorates the mind 
 to shake off the incubus that lies on 
 
 *In Sermon 2. 
 
 t2 
 
210 
 
 her moral powers, and, undaunted by 
 the menace of a thousand difficulties, 
 to run with patient perseverance in 
 an upright career. Nor is the pro- 
 cess of amelioration confined to this, 
 Christianity not only impels the timid 
 by the influence of a dignified and 
 rational fear, but she acts upon him in 
 a manner more palpably amiable — she 
 animates — oh! with what consolation. 
 She lets down her ladder of communi- 
 cation from Heaven to the exile in 
 the wilderness, and angels ascend and 
 descend with messages of everlasting 
 love. She diffuses the light of divine 
 promise over all the distress of the 
 present and the uncertainty of the 
 future, i Her breath dispels the cloud 
 of desponding fear, until the beams of 
 a Sun of Righteousness illuminate all 
 the soul. Her hope-inspiring spirit 
 gives ardour to every heavenly enter- 
 prize, and urges it on with assurance 
 of a final triumph. And where, but 
 
211 
 
 in her treasury, can be found the riches 
 of such hope and such consolation? 
 What other religion can bring peace 
 with God into the midst of a guilty 
 conscience ? Has either the ignorance, 
 or the wisdom, of the world ever 
 attained so blessed a result? Have 
 they solved the question how God can 
 be just and justify the ungodly? 
 
 Christianity, thus adapted to re- 
 medy the defects of the most opposite 
 varieties of character, must be fitted 
 to shed a most benign influence on the 
 intercourse of society. And this is 
 what we find exemplified in the every- 
 day operation of its genuine principles. 
 All the modifications of natural cha- 
 racter are found within the sphere of 
 that operation. The sensual, the 
 proud, and the timid, with every inter- 
 vening shade of diversity, have become 
 disciples of the New Testament; and 
 the most discordant dispositions are 
 harmonized by the charm of its doc- 
 
212 
 
 trines. The energetic, and the gentle, 
 the prodigal reclaimed, and the hum- 
 bled Pharisee, are blended in one 
 communion of purity and peace. The 
 ox and the lion feed, and the wolf 
 and the lamb lie down, and the serpent 
 and the suckling play together, in the 
 shadow of that tree whose leaves are 
 for the healing of the earth. 
 
SERMON Till. 
 
 THE TENDENCY DERIVED TO 
 
 AFFLICTION FROM THE PRINCIPLES 
 
 OF PIETY. 
 
 2 Corinthians iv. 17> 18* 
 
 " Our light affliction which is but for 
 a moment, ivorketh for us a far more 
 exceeding and eternal weight of glory; 
 while we look not at the things which are 
 seen, but at the things which are not 
 seen : for the things which are seen are 
 temporal; but the things which are not 
 seen are eternal.''' 
 
 The afflictions of human life have 
 formed the theme of many a moral- 
 ist, and many an eloquent declaimer, 
 
214 
 
 who have pourtrayed with all the 
 beauty of pathos the miseries entailed 
 upon mankind. They have painted frail 
 and feeble humanity, thrown naked 
 and defenceless on the desert of life, 
 exposed to ills from which inferior 
 natures are exempt. While their 
 sustenance is poured from the spon- 
 taneous earth, and they come into 
 being, furnished with all things need- 
 ful for the accommodation of their lot, 
 man is described as every where 
 condemned by necessity to perpetual 
 toil; and while their diseases are few 
 and infrequent, and ready instinct leads 
 them to remedies in every field and 
 grove, he is represented as the victim 
 of numberless maladies which all his 
 superior faculties often fail to prevent 
 or remove. He is described as en- 
 tering life with a cry, and leaving it 
 in agony — as pursued through all his 
 pilgrimage by sorrow in her thousand 
 forms; as condemned by the posses- 
 
215 
 
 sion of his boasted reason to peculiar 
 pain, in the remembrance of past, and 
 the anticipation of future, evil — as 
 finding at last a refuge and a rest only 
 in the dark and silent chambers of 
 the grave. 
 
 But the picture, though affecting, is 
 incomplete. They have omitted a 
 class of sufferings with which no incon- 
 siderable portion of the human race 
 have been, and are still, affected. 
 They have told us nothing of the suf- 
 ferings to which piety is exposed. 
 They have passed over in total silence 
 the peculiar sorrows within to which 
 the Christian life is subjected, and 
 those external trials to which it exclu- 
 sively is liable— ignorant and unin- 
 terested with regard to the one, and 
 unwilling, perhaps, to remember the 
 other, as being no equivocal indication 
 of enmity, on the part of the world, 
 against pure and practical religion- 
 The sufferings of martyrs, unparal- 
 
216 
 
 lelled in severity, and endured with 
 more than heroic fortitude, had no- 
 thing to attract the sympathy, or 
 excite the admiration, of worldly 
 minds; and the Christian of more 
 peaceful times may pass through his 
 little scene of conflict and petty per- 
 secution, unnoticed by all mankind, 
 except those who contribute to his 
 sorrows, or those who are involved in 
 similar. It is not unworthy of obser- 
 vation that the sacred writers take up 
 this subject not only in the way of 
 narrative, but prophetically too. They 
 not only record the sorrows to which 
 believers of former times were sub- 
 jected, but they give us to understand 
 that something resembling them must 
 more or less accompany the pilgrimage 
 of faith in every age, while the world 
 continues what it is. The divine 
 Author of the Gospel himself warned 
 his disciples of this. He promised 
 them not a calm continuance of sun- 
 
217 
 
 shine and joyful hours, while they were 
 occupied in his service on earth — he 
 showed the gathering clouds, and fore- 
 told the coming storm. There is a 
 holy undisguisedness of purpose in all 
 this, that appeals to every conscience. 
 Such a mode of proceeding was not of 
 the earth, earthly. It is not the experi- 
 ence of the world that he who would 
 lure men into a dangerous enterpize, 
 by holding out fallacious promises of 
 a distant recompense, has ever ad- 
 dressed them at large on the perils to 
 be encountered, and the sufferings to 
 be sustained, if they would be followers 
 of him. Men in such a situation have 
 ever kept so disagreeable a topic as far 
 as possible out of view. It is not in 
 the nature of deceivers to act other- 
 wise — their object is to attract, and 
 they must therefore forbear the men- 
 tion of every thing calculated to repel. 
 To act otherwise has ever belonged to 
 conscious integrity alone. He whose 
 u 
 
218 
 
 object is not to gain adherents to him- 
 self, but to advance the cause of truth, 
 can afford to be candid — it is consistent 
 with his aims to be so. He may warn 
 those whom he would persuade to fol- 
 low him, of endurances to which thev 
 must submit, if they would be his 
 disciples; and if he does so, he gives 
 one proof of his sincerity. Such was 
 the sacred candour exhibited by Christ 
 himself in dealing with his Apostles, 
 and by the Apostles in dealing with 
 the first converts of Christianity. 
 
 Of such a proof of divine origin our 
 religion alone is capable. No other has 
 exposed its professors to a hostility on 
 the part of the world, varying in form, 
 but in spirit ever essentially the same ; 
 therefore had the founders of other 
 religions, so called, been disposed to 
 deal candidly with their followers, they 
 had in this instance no opportunity of 
 exhibiting a proof of it. Other creeds, 
 from accidental association with the 
 
219 
 
 principles of a political party, may 
 have seemed to provoke a partial and 
 temporary opposition, of which the 
 real cause was political altogether; 
 the religion of the Scriptures has 
 uniformly drawn the world's enmity in 
 every land and every period. Other 
 creeds leave the heart undisturbed, 
 and cause no new internal trials ; the 
 religion of the Scriptures has ever 
 given occasion to them, wherever it 
 has existed in its reality. But if 
 there be afflictions peculiar to the 
 Christian, his afflictions have this pe- 
 culiarity too — they finally bring a be- 
 nefit along with them. For him the 
 sting of sorrow, as well as that of 
 death, is taken away, and the curse is 
 turned into a blessing. Affliction is 
 to him no minister of wrath, but an 
 angel of mercy. There are many, in- 
 deed, who profess assent to the divine 
 authority of the Scriptures, yet sneer, 
 or wonder, when we talk of sanctified 
 
220 
 
 affliction. Their minds are so busied 
 with the affairs of time, their affec- 
 tions are so buried among the objects 
 of sense, that they have no leisure to 
 employ about the things of eternity, 
 no desire for the blessings promised 
 to faith. Over all that is heavenly 
 there is to them a cloud of thick 
 darkness outspread. But if there be 
 in man a two-fold nature, if he possess 
 not alone an animal frame, but an 
 intellectual spirit, external circum- 
 stances only cannot constitute his 
 happiness, while his internal condition 
 wants the elements of true enjoyment. 
 If he was created for eternity, and 
 bears within him a sort of instinctive 
 consciousness of this, the possession 
 of all earth could not render him 
 blessed, nor any thing whereon there 
 is not stamped the attribute of a 
 duration commensurate with his own. 
 Give him all that wealth ever conferred, 
 or ambition attained — lay at his feet 
 
221 
 
 all the grandeur, and draw around hiui 
 all the pleasures, of the world— and 
 you leave him poor and miserable still, 
 while conscious that he must exist for 
 ever, and possessing nothing that he can 
 take with him beyond the grave. You 
 profess to realize your immortality, 
 and profess to venerate the Scriptures 
 of truth. Be consistent, and attend 
 with seriousness to a subject like the 
 present. We shall now endeavour to 
 explain how it is peculiar to the Chris- 
 tian that his afflictions are always in 
 the end followed by a happy result- 
 It will readily be acknowledged that 
 in general an event, ivhich affects the 
 human mind at all, will affect it accor- 
 ding to the nature of the principles 
 which it finds ivithin it. A few ex- 
 amples will illustrate what we mean. 
 Firmness on the part of a Sovereign 
 will suppress discontent, in a portion 
 of his empire where the principle of 
 loyalty is at bottom sound; but the 
 u2 
 
222 
 
 very same firmness, exercised at a 
 time when loyalty has been supplanted 
 by the desire of revolution, will have 
 no other effect than aggravating and 
 confirming discontent, and urging it 
 on to desperation. A just severity on 
 the part of a father, toward a son 
 who cherishes an unnatural aversion 
 from him, will only contribute to ren- 
 der the aversion permanent, and will 
 give new heat and bitterness to the 
 parricidal passions within him; while 
 the very same chastisement, exercised 
 toward a son in whom the principle of 
 filial affection is firmly seated, will be 
 the means of recalling him from a 
 temporary disobedience, and fixing 
 him in habits of duty. But let us 
 suppose the father to accompany his 
 chastisement of the son who hates him 
 with a firm but fond remonstrance, 
 lamenting over his frowardness, war- 
 ning him of its ultimate consequences 
 if persevered in, and using every 
 
touching argument that wisdom and 
 tenderness can suggest, in order to 
 reclaim him — chastisement may make 
 the son attentive to all this, which he 
 otherwise would have refused to hear; 
 and the expostulation may now find 
 its way to his judgment and affections ; 
 and a radical change maybe thus ef- 
 fected in his moral character — but no 
 one will say that the mere chastisement 
 could of itself have effected this 
 change — it could do no more than 
 compel attention to the counsels of 
 his father, and these, being listened to, 
 produced their intended effect. Thus 
 an afflictive dispensation from the 
 Father of spirits cannot, of itself, work 
 any change in the religious character. 
 The effect of such an event on one 
 who was previously averse from God 
 may be, and often is, to irritate, and 
 repel him farther still if possible — at 
 the utmost it can only arrest his atten- 
 tion to the divine word, and that word, 
 
224 
 
 if sent into his heart with almighty 
 power, will become the instrument of 
 a change which affliction alone could 
 never have produced. Every natural 
 mind is characterized by a disincli- 
 nation to the service of God — it is a 
 rebel offspring of the everlasting 
 Father, alienated from all that is holy 
 and good; wherefore the more usual 
 effect of calamity on unregenerate 
 persons, even where they admit that it 
 has come from the hand of God, is to 
 embitter and harden the heart, if it 
 produces any effect at all. They have 
 no principle of loyalty to God, no 
 filial feeling toward hint* — they shrink 
 from him as from a powerful enemy, 
 and regard his afflictive dealings as 
 the ebullitions of vindictive severity— 
 and therefore are so often unprofited 
 by all those dealings; and in that 
 habitation where the stroke of the 
 Almighty has been most keenly felt, 
 the voice of blasphemy has been lifted 
 bnim 
 
225 
 
 up against him. We have hitherto 
 been speaking of those instances 
 wherein the children of the world 
 regard their afflictions as sent from 
 God; but it is not always that they so 
 regard them. Ills of unusual occur- 
 rence, or whose immediate cause is 
 unknown, are attributed to the hand 
 of the Almighty; but in common 
 calamities, and where second causes 
 are visible, his operation is most fre- 
 quently overlooked. Surrounded" by 
 the ravages of a pestilence, they can 
 talk of divine providence; but the dis- 
 appointment of their plans, or any 
 other ordinary judgment, is attributed 
 only to chance, or their own impru- 
 dence, or the malice of enemies — in 
 oblivion of Him who sits in presiding 
 wisdom over all events, himself the 
 cause of every cause, the mover of 
 those springs that move the world. 
 Where affliction is not even traced to 
 the providence of God, how can it be 
 expected to lead the mind to him 
 
226 
 
 If He be forgotten while the tide of 
 sorrow flows and subsides, how can 
 it deposit on the heart the seeds of 
 vital religion? That is, indeed, a 
 happy hour in the history of a sinner, 
 when, recognizing in his affliction the 
 doings of a Paternal hand, he becomes 
 willing to hear that divine commu- 
 nication within whose reach he would 
 not venture before; while the Spirit of 
 grace, accompanying the message of 
 truth, applies it to his conscience, and 
 his heart, rends the vail which hid from 
 him eternity, and bids him look unto 
 a Mediator of salvation enthroned at 
 the right hand of the Majesty on high. 
 Faith cometh by hearing, and hearing 
 by the word of God — and any thing is 
 a blessing which brings us within its 
 sound, if the Spirit convey it to the 
 heart. Then may the song of the 
 psalmist be taken up — " before I was 
 afflicted I went astray, but now have 
 I kept thy word." 
 
 Having shown why men of the world 
 
227 
 
 do not usually, nor in any case directly, 
 derive religious benefit from affliction, 
 we shall now attempt to show why 
 every Christian in the end must derive 
 }t. We do not affirm that every par- 
 ticular affliction immediately and 
 visibly promotes his spiritual welfare ; 
 but that his afflictions, taken altoge- 
 ther, prove ultimately a blessing to 
 him. We have seen that affliction, 
 like every other kind of event, will 
 affect the mind according to its prin- 
 ciples — that, because alienation from 
 God is the distinguishing feature in 
 the moral character of every unre- 
 generate mind, men of the world are 
 for the most part hardened by it; and 
 that at best it can only be the means 
 of arresting their attention to the 
 Gospel, but not of effecting their 
 conversion to God. We have seen 
 also that in many cases they do not 
 even recognize the hand of God in 
 their calamities, which it is irrational 
 bhow orii lo nam ^dw nwoda 'gal ' 
 
228 
 
 to suppose can then effect their re- 
 ligious benefit. We proceed to con- 
 trast with all this the influence of his 
 principles on the suffering Christian, 
 and the tendency which, under God, 
 they impart to his afflictions. 
 
 1. Consider the condition in which 
 he stands with regard to God. It is 
 diametrically opposite to that in which 
 the children of the world are found. 
 They, not having received the Gospel, 
 are destitute of the blessings which it 
 holds out to mankind — but the Gospel 
 has gained admission into his heart, 
 and conveyed its treasures along with 
 it. They are guilty, and bear within 
 them an unsatisfied conscience— he, 
 being justified by faith, has peace with 
 God, through the atoning death of his 
 Son; they are alienated and averse 
 from God; he is brought nigh and 
 reconciled by the influence of the 
 eternal Spirit. He is a child of God. 
 Filial confidence and love spring up 
 
229 
 
 within him, from the knowledge of a 
 full salvation freely conferred. Oh! 
 what moral miracles that truth has 
 worked in man, "the blood of Jesus 
 Christ cleanseth us from all sin." 
 
 Look at the light which this must 
 throw on the darker dispensations of 
 divine providence — they are no longer 
 contemplated as the dealings of an 
 enemy, but as coming from a hand that 
 kindly orders all our concerns, to per* 
 feet and perpetuate our welfare. This 
 is what the Scripture authorizes, in 
 many a passage, which will be gladly 
 received by the same faith which has 
 received the message of reconciliation. 
 A truth so delightful the believer will 
 readily admit. Knowing, then, that 
 he is afflicted in order that he may be 
 partaker of the divine holiness; and 
 assured that love employs, and mo- 
 derates, and shall yet remove the rod, 
 how can he indulge a dark and sullen 
 hatred against the Being who holds it ? 
 
230 
 
 How can it separate bis soul from the 
 love of Christ? How can it repel him 
 for ever from the Father of mercies 
 and God of all consolation ? Shall it 
 not rather prove the means of reclaim- 
 ing him from a temporary backsliding, 
 and confirming him in the habits of a 
 filial obedience? The principles of 
 love and loyalty are sound within him; 
 and these must finally decide the effect 
 of an affliction which comes to him 
 stamped with the impress of a Sove- 
 reign and a Father's hand. However, 
 like the patriarch, overwhelmed for a 
 season, he shall still with him exclaim, 
 "I know that my Redeemer liveth;" 
 and, although his chastening for the 
 present be not joyous but grievous, it 
 shall afterward assuredly yield the 
 peaceable fruit of righteousness to him 
 who is exercised thereby. 
 
 2. The Christian is taught to con- 
 sider all events as disposed by the 
 wisdom of the Eternal, without whose 
 
231 
 
 will not even a sparrow can fall to the 
 ground. Whether his trials arise in 
 the course of nature, and are the 
 immediate result of some visible cause 
 — or whether some unwonted visi- 
 tation reaches him, and second causes 
 are concealed from his view— his prin- 
 ciples lead him to consider affliction, in 
 either case, as coming from the divine 
 hand. Whether his sufferings are in- 
 flicted without the intervention of 
 man, or advance upon him through the 
 malignity of a hostile world — whether 
 he is called to endure privation, or 
 bereavement, or disease, or perse- 
 cution, or internal conflict,— it is no 
 more than consistent with his views to 
 recognize the rod, and Him who hath 
 appointed it. Hence whatever benefit 
 affliction, as corning from God, is cal- 
 culated to convey to him, it must in 
 every instance be calculated to convey 
 it. 
 3. He is enabled to look bevond the 
 
232 
 
 boundary that separates the things 
 which are seen and temporal from 
 those which are unseen and eternal. 
 In the pardon and peace of the Gospel 
 a foretaste of blessedness hath entered 
 his soul ; and hope, realizing the pro- 
 mises of truth, expands before him 
 bright visions of final felicity. In 
 those regions where a rest remains for 
 the people of God there is reserved, 
 oh ! how much more than an equivalent 
 for all of which the vicissitudes of life, 
 or the stroke of death, may deprive 
 him. His chief good cannot be lost — 
 it is beyond the storms that agitate 
 the world. His affliction is for a mo- 
 ment, an eternal weight of glory shall 
 succeed it. The consciousness of this 
 must evidently tend to alleviate an- 
 guish, to shut out the entrance of 
 despair, and keep the mind still atten- 
 tive to that Revelation of mercy from 
 which a balm so precious has been ex- 
 tracted. It is the absence of such a 
 
233 
 
 consolation that has so often made 
 sorrow fatal to the man of the world. 
 Living without God, he lives without 
 solid hope for eternity — his portion 
 has been chosen below, and when that 
 is gone, all to him is lost. What won- 
 der, then, if in such a situation, when 
 all that he loved, or looked with pride 
 upon, is torn for ever from his grasp, 
 while no light from Heaven descends 
 on his darkness, revealing the way to 
 rest — what wonder then, if, with foul 
 and irretrievable act, he cast the boon 
 of life back on his Creator, as a worth- 
 less thing, and rush in recklessness on 
 eternity? But the Christian has an 
 anchor of the soul, too sure and stead- 
 fast to be moved wholly away from 
 him by the tempests of time — for it is 
 cast within the vail that hides the 
 sanctuary of Heaven. 
 
 Thus the influence of Christianity 
 gives a new tendency to affliction, 
 and robs it of its natural sting. The 
 x2 
 
234 
 
 believer will regard it as sent from a 
 Heavenly Parent, and will sustain it 
 under a sense of Heavenly consolation. 
 It conies to him from God, and will 
 lead him to God. It remains to give 
 an outline of its principal effects on 
 his character. The design of Jehovah, 
 in the trials of his people of old, is 
 stated to have been to humble and to 
 prove them. The principles on which 
 he deals with them, issuing from im- 
 mutable wisdom, are the same in every 
 age; and the same design is still mani- 
 fest in his providential dispensations 
 toward them. 
 
 I. Affliction promotes in the Chris- 
 tian a feeling of self-abasement — for 
 it ever in his mind is associated with 
 sin. In the unnumbered ills which 
 press on suffering humanity the Scrip- 
 ture has taught him to see the con- 
 sequences of apostacy from God ; and 
 he knows that, if no moral evil existed 
 on earth, no natural evil could have 
 
235 
 
 been permitted to enter. He sees 
 nature compelled to plead the cause 
 of her Sovereign with rebellious man, 
 and the thorns of sorrow springing 
 spontaneous over all the way of his 
 revolt. In the calamities of the world 
 he discerns the memorials of its guilt — 
 and in that guilt he knows he has had 
 his participation. The Scripture has 
 taught him, too, that when he is chas- 
 tened of the Lord, it is that he may 
 Jbe saved from the foolishness bound 
 up in his own heart, and may not be 
 condemned with the world. His af- 
 fliction he knows to be lighter than his 
 sins. Hence divine chastisement will 
 bring the present state of his soul 
 more prominently on his attention, 
 and with quicker eyes than usual he 
 will search and try his ways. What 
 effect can serious self-examination 
 have on a sinner, but the effect of self- 
 abasement! f£ These trials," will he 
 think, "are sent not in vain — my cor- 
 
236 
 
 rection in righteousness is intended"— 
 and he will examine and judge himself 
 —and the deeper he looks into his 
 heart the more of its unfathomable 
 iniquity will he discover ; the longer 
 he scrutinizes his doings, the more 
 sensibly will he feel that in all things 
 he has come short of the glory of God, 
 Unsuspected hitherto, many hidden 
 corruptions will now be brought into 
 light; and practices of which the evil 
 was not before observed will now 
 appear without disguise. There will 
 be within him not the pangs of afflic- 
 tion alone, but the workings of a godly 
 sorrow. His repentance will be re- 
 newed, and he will be lowlier than 
 ever in his own esteem. If humility 
 toward the teacher be essential to the 
 progress of the taught, what quality 
 can be more indispensable in the 
 school of Christian discipleship? The 
 virtues of the New Testament are 
 exotics to the heart, and it is only as 
 
237 
 
 we feel the want of them that we can 
 desire to cultivate them. 
 
 II. Affliction will be a means of con- 
 firming his principles. It will not only 
 humble, but it will prove him too. A 
 sufferer will desire consolation; and 
 the Christian, assured that the sana- 
 tory influences of the Comforter are 
 within the reach of believing prayer, 
 will, sooner or later, be driven by 
 affliction to the throne of Grace. He 
 may for a while endeavour to sustain 
 himself by the feeble arm of a fellow- 
 creature, but will at length have 
 recourse to the help of his God, con- 
 scious that there is none like it. Now 
 the divine love is tasted anew, and the 
 divine power more amply experienced. 
 He is made to feel what God can per- 
 form for those who wait upon him. 
 The consoling Spirit pours into his 
 heart the sweetness and fulness of the 
 Gospel, and his still small voice repeats 
 its assurances in the hearing of his 
 
238 
 
 soul. With the key of promise, given 
 him from above, he unlocks the prison 
 of despondency, and walks forth in 
 the light and liberty of the children of 
 God. What effect may be expected to 
 follow on his character, from this 
 experience of the tenderness and fi- 
 delity of his Heavenly Father? " Ex- 
 perience worketh hope" — it confirms 
 faith, and all the principles that arise 
 from faith. He has met an accom- 
 plishment of evangelic promises in his 
 own personal history; and this aug- 
 ments his conviction that every one of 
 them shall yet be accomplished. — Nor 
 will he forget why he was afflicted, — 
 nor overlook that divine assurance, 
 "if we judged ourselves we should not 
 be judged of the Lord." He will there- 
 fore fear to offend, lest his offence be 
 visited with the rod of chastisement 
 again. Aware, as he is, that the lo- 
 ving-kindness of the Lord shall not be 
 utterly taken from him, nor His fi- 
 
239 
 
 delity suffered to fail, he will yet beware 
 of provoking a repetition of the stripes 
 with which his iniquity was corrected. 
 Thus Affliction becomes the occasion 
 of a beneficial effect being wrought on 
 his character. After the storm has 
 passed away, humility is found to have 
 struck a deeper root ; faith lifts 
 up its head, and, with all its at- 
 tendant virtues, flourishes in additional 
 vigour. It is true that even a Chris- 
 tian, at times, has refused the lesson 
 inculcated by means of affliction; but 
 then a heavier blow has fallen, and the 
 voice of correcting providence sounded 
 louder in his ears, and compelled him 
 to hear and profit. The Lord does not 
 wantonly afflict; but when he does 
 afflict, he will not suffer his gracious 
 designs to be finally thwarted. Hence 
 every learner in the school of Chris- 
 tianity is compelled to make advances, 
 and, however loath to learn by the ex- 
 perience of sorrow, shall ultimately 
 
240 
 
 derive enduring benefit from all his 
 trials. He will survey all the way 
 wherein the Lord hath led him — he 
 will reflect on his paternal dealings 
 with him, and mark the wisdom and 
 graciousness that directed the trials, 
 by which his own folly, at the time, 
 may not have allowed him to profit — 
 and his soul will be humbled within 
 him, his confidence in the Rock of his 
 salvation confirmed, and all the prin- 
 ciples of piety established and strength- 
 ened in his bosom. 
 
 Affliction, then, is one of the means 
 employed, in the wise and wondrous 
 operation of God, for the preservation 
 of his people from the evil that is in 
 the world. Lest they should lose the 
 narrow path, it is hedged on either 
 side with thorns. While left below, 
 to hold forth the word of life to a 
 perishing generation, they are beset 
 with temptations without; and lest 
 they should be betrayed by corruption 
 
241 
 
 within, their backslidings are followed 
 by suffering. The way to the tree of 
 life was guarded of old against the 
 approach of the guilty — but now the 
 flaming sword of divine chastisement 
 is placed before the way of death, to 
 deter from it the footsteps of the 
 redeemed. And "our light affliction 
 which is but for a moment worketh 
 for us a far more exceeding and eternal 
 weight of glory; while we look not at 
 the things which are seen, but at the 
 things which are not seen : for the 
 things which are seen are temporal ; 
 but the things which are not seen 
 are eternal." 
 
 aril mi 
 letflid 
 
 Iticft bloi 
 bs^attod ad Wood 
 
 Y 
 
SERMON IX. 
 
 ON THE REVEALED HISTORY OF 
 
 ANGELIC BEING. 
 
 on to eovin 
 
 
 
 wlimid 
 Hebrews L— 7. 
 
 " Of the angels he saith, who maikeih 
 his angels spirits, and his ministers a 
 flame of fire" 
 
 ■ 
 
 Concerning that infinity which ex- 
 tends upward from human nature to 
 the throne of the Eternal, it is obvious 
 that reason cannot with certainty in- 
 form us whether it be an unoccupied 
 void, or whether it be in part a peopled 
 world, wherein order is elevated above 
 order in the scale of intellectual being, 
 
243 
 
 leaving between the highest of all 
 and him who formed it an unoccupied 
 infinity still. Reason may speculate 
 on this subject, and even arrive at 
 conclusions invested with the force of 
 strong probability ; and so in fact she 
 has done, when destitute of the guid- 
 ance of Revelation. The efforts of 
 unenlightened philosophy in this as in 
 every similar department, were, in- 
 deed, but feeble; it is, however, 
 deeply interesting to the student 
 of Revelation to find that her dis- 
 coveries in this instance, as well as 
 in others, confirm the conclusions of 
 philosophy where evidently just, and 
 correct them where demonstrably 
 erroneous. 
 
 1. Revelation has made known to 
 us the existence of created intelligence 
 superior to man, and diversified not 
 only by degrees of dignity, but by 
 varieties of nature. It makes men- 
 tion of mighty spirits that expatiate 
 
244 
 
 in scenes of invisible being — of angels 
 and archangels, of Cherubim and 
 Seraphim. Let those names, beautiful 
 and majestic as they are, be forgotten 
 for a moment, and let us now attend 
 to the fact which has thus been brought 
 to our knowledge. Is that fact one 
 which reason would have led us to 
 expect ? Is it one to which the deduc- 
 tions of legitimate probability would 
 have pointed ? 
 
 If we observe a variety and a gra- 
 dation in all the works of God in the 
 universe of matter, as far as we are 
 acquainted with them, although we 
 cannot with infallible certainty argue 
 from this to the existence of a like 
 variety and a like gradation in the 
 universe of mind, such is our mental 
 constitution that a sort of analogical 
 instinct inclines us to regard it as a 
 probable conclusion. All that reason 
 can advance in the shape of direct 
 argument lies on the affirmative side of 
 
245 
 
 this question; in aid of the negative 
 she may suggest a doubt, but can do 
 no more. All the efforts of philosophy 
 can never liberate mankind from the 
 ties that bind our actual observation of 
 living intelligence to the sphere of our 
 own world— it is reserved for death 
 alone to accomplish this — to convey 
 us to other scenes of being, and en- 
 large the sphere of observation to 
 unknown worlds. Man is undeniably 
 separated from all other terrestial ex- 
 istences by a vast and impassable 
 chasm — by the possession of some- 
 thing different in kind from any share 
 or semblance of intelligence possessed 
 by them, since its effects essentially 
 differ from the effects of the latter — 
 whether this something be called mind, 
 or entitled by any other name. That 
 there is a universe of mind, stretching 
 beyond the bounds of our world, and 
 as widely and regularly diversified as 
 the universe of matter, none can dis- 
 y2 
 
246 
 
 prove. Analogy whispers that there 
 is; and the balance of argument pre- 
 ponderates altogether on this side. 
 What extensive variety, what regular 
 gradation of being, is observable in 
 the brute creation, from the scarcely 
 conscious condition of those half-plant, 
 half-animal substances that float on 
 ocean, the unresisting prey of every ene- 
 my, up to the sagacity of the elephant. 
 It is not merely that one individual of a 
 species is found to differ widely from 
 another, but species is found to differ 
 from species more widely still. In the 
 vegetable, and eveninthe mineral king- 
 dom, the same variety, the same gra- 
 dation, may be traced. But when, as- 
 cending from order to order and from 
 species to species, through the mineral, 
 the vegetable, and the animalkingdoms, 
 we at length arrive at man, a species 
 is presented to our contemplation that 
 stands alone in the visible universe. 
 The seeming intelligence of the most 
 
247 
 
 sagacious brute is incapable of self- 
 augmentation. Such as the elephant 
 was in the age of Porus such he is now.* 
 But human existence is another thing; 
 it has an innate power of expansion 
 peculiar to it, which is able not only 
 to subdue and change the face of earth, 
 but greatly to modify the character of 
 humanity itself. To this power, which 
 we call mind, all earth contains nothing 
 like or second ; it is distinct and alone. 
 There is indeed equal, or greater, 
 variety, among the individuals of the 
 human species, than among the in- 
 dividuals of any other species on the 
 Globe; yet of mind one species alone 
 comes within the sphere of our actual 
 observation. But will not reason infer 
 
 *The hypothesis of Darwin that brutes have a 
 progressive intelligence, contradicted as it is by the 
 observation of a hundred generations, does not well 
 deserve a serious notice. Their acting variously 
 under various circumstances only proves that dif- 
 ferent instincts are called out by different causes. 
 
248 
 
 the existence of others beyond that 
 sphere ? While the mineral, the 
 vegetable, and the animal kingdoms 
 are regularly and almost infinitely 
 diversified, does the intellectual king- 
 dom break in, as an exception, on the 
 general analogy of nature? In this 
 the noblest department of creative 
 operation did the divine wisdom forego 
 the display of its wonted marvels, or 
 the arm of omnipotence exhaust its 
 energy on the formation of a single 
 species ? Is not the intellectual king- 
 dom carried upward from man, through 
 ascending orders of more elevated 
 being, in some distant sphere which 
 the eye of science is not permitted to 
 explore? 
 
 We accordingly find that a belief in 
 the existence of superior created 
 intelligence has been general among 
 mankind. But unenlightened imagi- 
 nation has ever invested them with a 
 character which cannot belong to them, 
 
249 
 
 and the good spirits and benign ge- 
 niuses of mythology were arrayed in 
 all the vanities and infirmities of flesh 
 — just as the Supreme Being was 
 divested of his glory, and a mutilated 
 notion of deity substituted in his place 
 —while its evil geniuses and malignant 
 spirits were not essentially different 
 from the former, but one degrading 
 participation in the passions of man- 
 kind was common to both. The 
 wisest of the heathen, who in theory 
 and in practice alike poured his con- 
 tempt on idle speculation, appears 
 evidently to have admitted the ex- 
 istence of ft demons," or intelligences ; 
 yet the demons of Socrates wanted 
 every heavenly trait that characterizes 
 the angels of Revelation. 
 
 2. That man was placed originally 
 in a state of probation will be readily 
 admitted by all who believe in a God. 
 It is on all hands admitted also that 
 mankind are now divided into two 
 
250 
 
 great classes, the evil and the good — 
 the virtuous and the wicked. If intel- 
 lectual creatures exist beyond the 
 habitation of mankind, it cannot be 
 disproved that they too were placed 
 by the Creator in a state of probation 
 — nor can it be disproved that, in 
 consequence, the world of spirits, 
 like our own, is divided into good and 
 evil. On the contrary the analogical 
 principle would lead us to conclude 
 that both these things are probably 
 true. Men are not agreed in defining 
 the line that separates between the 
 good and evil here, but mark it out 
 variously according to the standard of 
 moral excellence they variously adopt ; 
 yet all agree that it somewhere exists 
 —and to believe that it goes forward 
 through the invisible world, parting 
 its inhabitants too, is an opinion na- 
 tural to human reason. It is indeed 
 but little light that reason can furnish 
 for this subject, but whatever she gives 
 
251 
 
 all points to such a conclusion. Accord- 
 ingly every form of religion, as we 
 have already mentioned, has divided 
 the spiritual world into good and evil. 
 With all this perfectly coincides the 
 fact revealed in Scripture— that angels 
 were placed originally in a state of 
 probation, and that in consequence the 
 angelic orders, like the human race, 
 are now separated by the line that 
 marks between evil and good. It is 
 true, indeed, that all mankind are 
 equally fallen, and the existence of 
 "the excellent of the earth" is in 
 Scripture attributed to the influence 
 of divine grace alone; while of the 
 angelic world a part only is described 
 as fallen from their first estate, and the 
 rest as owing their safety not to the 
 regenerating, although to the elect- 
 ing, goodness, of God — and so far a 
 difference exists; but still our analogy 
 essentially holds good. In either case 
 there was a state of probation; there 
 
252 
 
 is a consequent separation into good 
 and evil. No imaginable reason can 
 be assigned why the history of all 
 worlds should fully coincide; and 
 through cases marked by circum- 
 stantial diversity the analogy for which 
 reason looks out may be distinctly 
 traced. 
 
 3. Although mankind are far ex- 
 celled by many of the brute creation 
 in physical force, yet the power of 
 intelligence gives them a universal 
 dominion upon earth. Were the whole 
 human race at once deprived of their 
 distinguishing attribute of mind, and 
 yet left in full possession of all their pre- 
 sent bodily powers, that dominion must 
 evidently cease. The monsters of the 
 wilderness would soon learn the fatal 
 secret of our degradation, and issuing 
 from their retreats would recover their 
 lost domains in the once civilized 
 world, and, confining man within 
 narrow and more narrow limits, at 
 
253 
 
 length reduce him to the sole pos- 
 session of some distant isles unattain- 
 able by them, and to which the 
 forgotten art of ; human ■ ^navigation 
 had net previously conveyed them. 
 Yet a creature,.- whose bodily resources 
 are so feeble, is enabled by intellectual 
 power to subject superior animal force 
 to his will, and even to compel the 
 very powers of nature to aid in extend- 
 ing his dominion. It is surely, then, 
 agreeable to reason and analogy to 
 believe that intelligences superior to 
 man must be in possession of resources 
 of power proportionately greater than 
 those which he can command. This 
 indeed, like every thing incapable of 
 a decision obtained by observation, or 
 by demonstrative proof, might be 
 questioned, if revelation did not render 
 it certain; still probability would 
 weigh down the balance on the affir- 
 mative side. With this probability 
 the information conveyed by the Scrip- 
 
254 
 
 ture fully coincides — " angels are 
 greater in power and might" than 
 man. And this is sufficient to show- 
 that the sneers of the infidel at the 
 accounts contained in scripture of 
 angelic agency, and of demoniacal 
 possession, offend against the spirit of 
 philosophy no less than they sin against 
 the spirit of piety* Has he fully as- 
 certained that no world of spirits is 
 among the theatres whereon the 
 Almighty arm has been employed? 
 If he has not, and cannot ascertain 
 this — if the whole influence of pro- 
 bable reasoning be in favor of the con- 
 trary; and if there be a gradation of 
 substances ascending in refinement 
 from the grossest to the most subtle 
 that can be submitted to the senses of 
 man, and from the latter to a point 
 unattainable by human imagination — 
 (as philosophy has rendered more than 
 probable) and if the substance that 
 clothes angelic being be the refined 
 
255 
 
 habitation of intelligence greater than 
 that of man, what is there which reason 
 can condemn, in the belief, that beings 
 endowed with such intellectual might, 
 and invested with a substance so re- 
 fined, are capable of acting on this 
 world in a manner impossible to mor- 
 tality ? The wonders achieved by our 
 inferior intelligence, acting through 
 an organization of flesh and blood, 
 would amply justify that belief, even 
 independently of the authority of 
 revelation on which it is founded. 
 
 4. There is, universal on earth, a 
 natural subordination established by 
 divine providence. The equality of 
 the Jacobins was found a chimera, 
 not to be realized even within the 
 limits of their own club. Were a 
 law this day carried into operation 
 over the whole earth, reducing all 
 mankind at once to the same level of 
 rank and possession, one generation 
 would be more than enough to develope 
 
256 
 
 the subordinating principle again : 
 worth and intelligence, enjoying secu- 
 rity and freedom, would soon break 
 up the diamonded partition, and 
 create a new aristocracy although 
 without the name. In times of anarchy 
 the principle does not cease to work; 
 for every revolution has had its leaders. 
 And if in the world of -spirits, as 
 analogy would persuade, a diversity 
 of intelligence prevail among beings 
 of the same species, like that which 
 holds among mankind, is it not rational 
 to believe that even there mental 
 superiority must originate subordi- 
 nation? In accordance with this we 
 learn from the Scripture that Eternal 
 Providence has diffused and maintains 
 the principle of order throughout the 
 invisible, as in the visible, world; we 
 read of " thrones and dominions, prin- 
 cipalities and powers," among the 
 spirits of darkness and among the 
 angels of light. 
 
257 
 
 5. We shall now turn our attention 
 to the character and employments of 
 the latter, as they are made known in 
 Scripture. The most cursory ob- 
 servation will discern something pecu- 
 liar in these. A scene is here presented 
 to the mind, of which no likeness can 
 be found below, whether in the region 
 of reality or in that of imagination, 
 unless it be the faint image of it which 
 exists among the godly, and in the 
 good man's heart. There is a sacred, 
 unearthly, character about it, an aw r ful 
 yet lovely purity, which distinguishes 
 it wholly from all that eloquence could 
 paint, or poetry conceive. The angels 
 of Heaven are described as glowing 
 in the contemplation of divine glory, 
 imbibing blessedness in the presence 
 and praise of Jehovah, catching the 
 intimations of his will, and on wings 
 of mighty zeal speeding from world to 
 world in order to its accomplishment. 
 Now this is a character with which 
 z2 
 
258 
 
 nothing in human nature is congenial. 
 Every-day experience is a proof of 
 this. Although mankind be equally 
 with angels indebted to divine good- 
 ness for existence and every blessing, 
 and no less obliged than they to the 
 love, the worship, and service of God, 
 we know that a natural inclination to 
 these cannot be found on earth. 
 Wherever they exist among us, they 
 are the fruit of instruction and con- 
 viction, not originally appreciated, not 
 originally entertained. So powerful, 
 indeed, is our natural aversion from 
 God and the things of God, as to afford 
 a strong corroborative argument from 
 reason for that necessity of divine 
 influence, to effect our moral regenera- 
 tion, which is so amply and decidedly 
 taught by revelation. Accordingly 
 the angelic character, however it may 
 have compelled the awestruck ad- 
 miration of unrenewed minds, is in- 
 vested with too much of the attribute 
 
259 
 
 of godliness to win their affection. 
 That attribute, even in an angel, 
 repels the depraved heart of man, 
 and causes a feeling of cold disrelish 
 to mingle with the involuntary ho- 
 mage that he yields to the majesty of 
 heavenly intelligence. We may, then, 
 safelv aver that such a character could 
 never have had its birth in the imagi- 
 nation of man. A moral impossibility 
 stood in the way of it. A being so 
 estranged from God could not have 
 conceived such a reflection of divine 
 holiness ; and if he had conceived it, 
 he would quickly have effaced it from 
 his memory for ever, since he even 
 liked not to retain God in his know- 
 ledge. 
 
 6. Not less remarkable is the ac- 
 count contained in Scripture of the 
 character and employments of fallen 
 angels. Widely different as these are 
 from the former, they are no less pecu- 
 liar; nor is any thing similar to be 
 
2G0 
 
 found among the descriptions of any 
 other but the sacred volume. The 
 evil spirits and geniuses of mythology 
 were all invested with a malignity of 
 which the creature only was the object. 
 They were exclusively characterized 
 according to the supposed bearing of 
 their influence on the destinies of 
 men, and no account of their relation 
 toward the Supreme entered into the 
 picture. They were represented as 
 the patrons and perpetrators of crime, 
 not of sin. Nothing could be more 
 natural than this. The unregenerated 
 mind of man ever contemplates human 
 conduct (especially his own) principally, 
 and, in a practical sense, exclusively, 
 in its relation to the interests and 
 opinions of society, not in its relation 
 to the will of God. The ordinary 
 language of the world in every period 
 evinces this. Actions are spoken of as 
 virtuous or vicious, laudable or blame- 
 worthy, useful or injurious, but are 
 
261 
 
 never characterized by their co- 
 incidence or collision with the divine 
 will, except where the name of deity 
 is blasphemed, or his temple profaned, 
 or in cases similar to these — as if our 
 responsibility to our Maker were 
 confined by names and local limits, 
 beyond which we were amenable 
 rather to the tribunal of society. But 
 in Scripture a view wholly different is 
 taken of the actions of men, and they 
 are placed in the light of their relation 
 to the will of God. Human characters 
 are there condemned, not because 
 their actual developement may be 
 detrimental to the well-being, or odious 
 in the estimation, of the world, but 
 because their elements are hostile to 
 divine authority. In the same light 
 is the character of fallen angels repre- 
 sented. They are described as fallen 
 by transgression of the law of the 
 Eternal, and filled with an all-dominant 
 enmity against Him, An awful pecu- 
 
262 
 
 liarity is indeed thrown around their 
 character, when we are told, that, 
 not spared by mercy and visited by 
 hope, like the sinners of earth, but 
 for ever despairing of restoration to 
 their first estate, they make evil their 
 good and destruction their joy, oc- 
 cupying without intermission their 
 fearful power in communicating to all 
 whom they can bring within its 
 operation the horrors in which hence- 
 forth they have their own being. Can 
 such a picture be considered for a 
 moment the work of human invention ? 
 There is none which an unrenewed 
 mind is less willing to glance at, 
 because here the very principle of 
 alienation from God by which its own 
 fallen nature is actuated, presents 
 itself in full and most awful deve- 
 lopement, as it will hereafter exist 
 in the condemned of mankind* As 
 devils are, so will lost sinners be. 
 The charge of an inbred depravity 
 
263 
 
 brought by revelation against every 
 child of Adam revolts the unhumbled 
 heart — which will consequently shrink 
 from the picture of that depravity in 
 its last and irremediable stage. More- 
 over, until instructed out of the page 
 of revelation, man is ever ignorant of 
 the nature of sin, although his con- 
 science will then respond to the divine 
 declarations concerning it. He there- 
 fore could not invent a character 
 wherein guilt is made to consist in 
 enmity against God. He could not, 
 if he would— he durst not if he could 
 — employ the pen which portrayed 
 the state of lost angels. A moral 
 impossibility makes the supposition of 
 it absurd. 
 
 The manner wherein is conveyed 
 the information found in Scripture 
 concerning the angelic orders is well 
 worthy of consideration. Sublime 
 and heavenly, or intensely awful, and 
 characterized by a sacred and won- 
 
2<34 
 
 drous originality, as are ail the images 
 here presented to the mind, It is only 
 incidentally, and sparingly, and with 
 the utmost simplicity, that the subject 
 is mentioned. There is an entire ab- 
 sence of the parade of ostentatious 
 discovery, of a studied design to 
 astonish and to awe the mind. It is 
 only from a few scattered passages 
 that we learn any thing of the Angelic 
 world; when these are collected and 
 compared, all is known that revelation 
 communicates on the subject. Yet 
 how important is the knowledge con- 
 veyed in so artless a manner! How 
 vast a scene is thus opened to our 
 view! The veil of things invisible is 
 rent in twain, and another universe 
 disclosed. Imprisoned in flesh and 
 blood, as we are, and capable of 
 employing observation on but the gros- 
 ser half of creation, a telescope of 
 discovery is put into our hands, 
 whereby the spirits of eternity are 
 
265 
 
 submitted to our cognizance. What 
 reason could only surmise on grounds 
 of probability is ascertained to be 
 true — that the intellectual kingdom, 
 like the inferior, has its ascending 
 series of gradation, of which man is 
 but the lowest link, connecting the 
 whole immeasurable chain with that 
 of visible nature, and standing be- 
 tween two worlds, the common centre 
 of the universe of matter and the 
 universe of mind. It is divulged that 
 angels, like mankind, were created 
 responsible, and placed in a pro- 
 bationary state, and the world of 
 spirits like our own is divided into 
 good and evil: that superior in- 
 telligence, as in man compared with 
 the brute, so in angels compared with 
 man, is superior power: that as on 
 earth, so in the invisible spheres, 
 the great principle of order prevails, 
 there too elevating its thrones, and 
 establishing its dominions. A picture 
 2a 
 
266 
 
 is moreover presented of angelic 
 holiness on the one hand, of spiritual 
 wickedness on the other, which it is 
 absurd to attribute to the imagination 
 of man, that holiness being too like 
 divine perfection, to be conceived by 
 one who liked not to retain God in 
 his knowledge — that wickedness being 
 too like the final developement of his 
 own, to be willingly portrayed or con- 
 templated by him. We have here then 
 a corroborative internal evidence of no 
 trivial weight, that the Scriptures owe 
 their origin not to human ingenuity, 
 but to the inspiring wisdom of God. 
 
 The Scriptures make known to us 
 a connection subsisting between the 
 history of angels and our own. 
 The spirits of Heaven are interested 
 in our salvation, and occupied in 
 ministering to it. They sang together 
 when the morning star began to shine, 
 and shouted for joy over the new-born 
 infancy of nature; but the scene which 
 
267 
 
 attracts their enduring regard is the 
 one transacted on Calvary— the theme 
 which they desire, but even they are 
 unable, to fathom, is human re- 
 demption. The spirits of darkness, 
 on the contrary, form a host banded 
 together to accomplish the ruin of 
 mankind. Our first fall is ascribed to 
 their malignant influence, which has 
 ever since been active in all our 
 -calamities. With powers propor- 
 tioned to the bad eminence they 
 occupy, ever watchful and unwearied, 
 yet restrained from interference with 
 the voluntary agency of men, they 
 urge on sinners to their moral suicide. 
 Now they who disbelieve angelic being, 
 cannot, it is evident, be among the 
 persons on whose behalf angelic 
 ministrations are employed. And if 
 there be a master-piece of policy 
 among the wiles of devils, it is when 
 they effect their own concealment from 
 their victim's eye — like some profound 
 
268 
 
 intriguer who lays the train of a 
 mighty explosion through half the 
 political world, still keeping up, until 
 his work be done, the delusion of 
 ignorance under cover of which it is 
 carried on. 
 
 What a lustre is shed on the me- 
 diation of the Son of God by the 
 doctrine of angelic agency. It was 
 not the contradiction of earth alone 
 that our surety endured, but the 
 malignity of hell also. And when he 
 overcame, his right was established 
 to send forth the inhabitants of Heaven 
 on errands of beneficence to man. 
 " He maketh his angels spirits and his 
 ministers a flame of fire"; and by 
 virtue of his completed redemption he 
 bids them go and " minister to those 
 who shall be heirs of salvation". 
 
 ; 
 
Off* >:, \ 'f '^v-jC* v ' '"* \ " '♦'>* jrrr 
 
 SEBIOI X. 
 
 i . : 
 
 IS THERE NOTHING IN DEITY 
 ANALOGOUS TO MENTAL AFFECTION 
 
 IN MAN?' 
 
 noiidi . . 
 Genesis i. 27* 
 
 "God created man in his own image ". 
 
 Mere speculation in science is con- 
 temptible, but in religion is dangerous. 
 We feel a parental fondness for the 
 offspring of our own fancy, which is 
 apt to supplant the love of sober 
 truth; particularly where, as in the 
 instance of revealed truth, the natural 
 bias of the heart comes in to aid the 
 effect. Corruption rejoices within us, 
 2a2 
 
270 
 
 to find any excuse for foregoing the 
 influence of the divine word, and 
 readily assents to the substitution of 
 some cold and barren theory in the 
 place of sanctifying doctrine. But 
 these reprehensions will not apply to 
 an investigation of any point connected 
 with the nature of Him " with whom 
 we have to do," if it be conducted by 
 the light of his Revelation. Sub- 
 mitting to such a guide we cannot be 
 led astray ; and the more we know 
 of infinite Perfections, the more cause 
 we shall have to love and to adore 
 them. 
 
 A subject like this can scarcely be 
 expected to prove generally inter- 
 esting except among serious minds. 
 One whose importance is limited to 
 the "three-score years and ten" will 
 absorb the faculties of the wordly — 
 the mention of some passing political 
 event, or some fluctuation in the 
 interests of trade, some local com- 
 
271 
 
 mon-plaee or frivolous amusement, 
 will command unwearied attention, 
 when the attributes of Divinity are 
 deemed unworthy of a thought ! An 
 affecting proof of something wrong 
 in the moral state of man, when we 
 remember that what is thus the ob- 
 ject of his scorn is a subject "higher 
 than the highest" in importance and 
 dignity. 
 
 Some ancient philosophers imagined 
 the First Cause to be nothing more 
 than a kind of animal life pervading 
 the body of the universe. Absurd 
 and comfortless doctrine indeed, that 
 placed before the worshipper a vast 
 vacuity wherein all his petitions for 
 superior aid must be swallowed up 
 unheard for ever, and represented the 
 fountain of all intelligence as itself 
 destitute of it ! When the Supreme 
 Being is described as possessing all 
 intelligence, purity, and power, but 
 devoid of every thing analogous to 
 
272 
 
 mental affection in man, an error not 
 altogether dissimilar from the fore- 
 going, seems presented to our con- 
 templation. Instead of a God in some 
 degree comprehensible in his character, 
 although not in the mode of his eoe- 
 istenee> and encouraging access by all 
 that he has revealed of himself, we 
 behold afar off a cold abstraction 
 veiled in impenetrable obscurity, and 
 sending forth a repulsive influence on 
 our approach to the Sanctuary! Free 
 from the passions of mortality the 
 High and Holy One infallibly must 
 be— yet is there in his nature no re- 
 semblance of all that was sublime in 
 the original nature of man, but on the 
 scale of infinity? The opinion we 
 have questioned is indeed boasted as 
 the offspring of profound reflection, 
 and emphatically styled "the phi- 
 losophical notion of the deity." Its 
 exclusive consistency with the Scrip- 
 tures is said to be borne out by that 
 
273 
 
 just and figurative interpretation sug- 
 gested by a sound judgment and the 
 analogy of Revelation. These pre- 
 tensions, we venture to affirm, are 
 more plausible than well-founded; 
 and the verdict of Scripture and of 
 genuine philosophy, if duly ascertained, 
 would be found on the other side, 
 
 I. The passage that has been 
 selected as the occasion of the present 
 discourse intimates a wondrous fact, 
 worthy of our deep attention, as 
 illustrating the nature of God, no less 
 than unfolding the original dignity of 
 man. In the latter light alone, it has 
 been generally viewed— we propose 
 to consider it at present in the former. 
 We are given to understand that 
 between the nature of man, as first 
 created, and the Creator Himself, 
 there existed resemblance. If then 
 it be allowable, on the ground of this 
 fact, to argue from what is known, 
 in the divine nature to what is in- 
 
2/4 
 
 vestigated in the original nature of 
 man, is it not equally allowable, on 
 the same ground, to argue from what 
 may be known of the original nature 
 of man to what is investigated in the 
 divine ? Whatever force there is in 
 the argument in one case, there is the 
 same in the other; for the principle of 
 it is in either case the same, namely, 
 that the resemblance intimated having 
 necessarily existed on either side, if 
 we know a point compared on the one 
 side we may infer a corresponding 
 point on the other. It is obvious that 
 it is only with respect to the points of 
 declared resemblance that the argu- 
 ment, in whichever way applied, has 
 any force at all. We cannot infer, on 
 the one hand, from any divine attribute 
 a corresponding quality in original 
 human nature, unless that attribute be 
 one among the points of declared 
 resemblance; we cannot infer, on the 
 other hand, from any quality known 
 
275 
 
 to have existed in our original nature^ 
 a corresponding attribute of the 
 divine, unless that quality also be 
 included among them. We cannot, 
 for instance, argue from corporeal 
 qualities in man, to corporeal in the 
 deity; for both reason and revelation 
 exclude the supposition that a re- 
 semblance in that respect can he 
 intimated by the passage under con- 
 sideration. Neither can we argue, for 
 a similar reason, from any attribute 
 of the deity to a corresponding quality 
 in our original nature, if it be such a 
 one as our nature is intrinsically 
 incapable of; as, for example, Om- 
 nipresence. The declared resemblance, 
 according to some interpreters of the 
 divine oracles, is confined to the 
 single feature of moral character, 
 while, according to others, mental 
 character in general, and external 
 circumstance, are in some degree 
 included. That more than moral 
 
276 
 
 character is included among the 
 features of resemblance would ap- 
 pear from the context of our pas- 
 sage, where the dominion over other 
 creatures of this earth assigned to man 
 seems at least indirectly represented as 
 an image of the divine sovereignty; 
 and as such in fact it is expressly con- 
 sidered in the comment of an inspired 
 apostle on another portion of the 
 Old Testament.* Why ,. then, should 
 mental character in general be ex- 
 cluded — especially when we know 
 that there exists in the divine nature 
 something analogous to understanding 
 in man, so far as that which is infinite 
 can bear analogy to that which is 
 finite? May there not also be some- 
 what in deity so far and no farther 
 analogous to mental affection in man, 
 as the omniscient intuition of deity, 
 with all things ever present in its field 
 
 * Hebrews 2. 
 
277 
 
 of vision, can be said to bear analogy 
 to human intelligence? " God created 
 man in his own image." This language 
 is unqualified except by the nature of 
 the case, and (unless we can sup- 
 pose the language of inspiration so 
 carelessly penned as to express, to 
 our apprehension for whose benefit it 
 was intended, more than it really 
 means) may be allowed to imply a 
 resemblance in all possible points of 
 comparison. Here it may be observed 
 that although the principle of the 
 argument is the same, and in itself 
 equally strong, whether we argue, 
 on the ground of the revealed re- 
 semblance, from original human nature 
 to the divine, or from the divine to 
 original human nature, yet the argu- 
 ment in the former application of it 
 derives additional force from a dis- 
 tinct consideration. If we can argue, 
 on such ground, with the strongest 
 probability, that of every excellence 
 2b 
 
278 
 
 of which his nature is intrinsically 
 capable, a measure, proportioned to 
 the place assigned him in the scale of 
 being, resided in man before the fall 
 — on the same ground we can argue 
 with certainty that every abstract 
 excellence possessed by man before 
 the fall has its infinite counterpart in 
 the divine Being — because we know 
 that to Him every possible excellence 
 belongs. We say abstract excellence; 
 because human excellence, as modified 
 by the station of man, and relative 
 to the obligations under which he was 
 placed, can obviously have no counter- 
 part in the Divine Being, who thrones 
 above all eminence, and owns no 
 obligation but what originate in his 
 own perfections. It may be thought 
 that when a resemblance is intimated 
 between our original nature and the 
 divine, mental affection cannot, from 
 the nature of the case, be an included 
 point of comparison, as implying 
 
279 
 
 Imperfection and therefore impossible 
 in God. Mental affection in man, 
 even as he came from the hands of his 
 Creator, unquestionably involved in it 
 the imperfection of a creature, nor 
 can any thing strictly designable by 
 that name have place in the divine 
 nature — all for which we argue is the 
 existence in the divine nature of some- 
 thing analogous to mental affection, 
 free, of necessity, from whatever in 
 that quality is characteristic of a 
 finite being. It may be thought, 
 moreover, that mental affection is not 
 merely allied to imperfection in a 
 creature, but necessarily involves im- 
 perfection, so that nothing at all 
 analogous to it can belong to a perfect 
 Being. As existing in human nature 
 it must indeed involve imperfection 
 — but intelligence, as existing in hu- 
 man nature, must involve imperfection 
 too, and therefore, strictly speaking 
 we may affirm, can have no place in 
 
280 
 
 Deity, whose thoughts, in this respect 
 as in every other, are not as our 
 thoughts— whose mind pursues not 
 truth from link to link like ours, but 
 grasps the whole infinite chain at 
 once and for ever. Yet none deny 
 that there is in Deity somewhat 
 analogous to intelligence in man. If 
 then the principle of the objection 
 does not hold in the one instance, why 
 should it be relied on in the other? 
 If notwithstanding that intelligence, 
 as existing in human nature, involves 
 imperfection, there be somewhat 
 analogous to it in the nature of Deity 
 — why may not it be that although 
 mental affection as existing in human 
 nature involves imperfection some- 
 thing analogous to it also may belong 
 to Deity? The objection anticipated 
 we propose more fully to answer under 
 a subsequent head of this discourse. 
 
 2. If our first progenitor was 
 formed in the image of God, it will be 
 
281 
 
 admitted by those for whom the pre- 
 sent subject was selected, that "one 
 other man" was in a far loftier sense 
 "the express image of His person." 
 Jesus Christ is declared to- have been 
 "God manifest in the flesh." It is 
 true that the characteristics of his 
 humanity are not to be confounded 
 with those of his divinity; every 
 quality of the one does not necessarily 
 mirror some attribute of the other. 
 It is true that possessing, as man, 
 every feature essential to original 
 human nature, he must have possessed 
 some for which no counterpart existed 
 in his divine nature ; and as we do not 
 infer, because he had a corporeal form, 
 that the divinity is corporeal too, 
 neither do we infer, because he was 
 moved with indignation, wept with 
 compassion, and melted in tenderness, 
 that those affections literally belong 
 to the divine nature. But the fact of 
 his exhibiting those affections was 
 2b2 
 
282 
 
 unquestionably calculated to convey, 
 to those who saw in him the Father 
 manifested, a very natural impression 
 that something analogous to them 
 ddes belong to the divine nature. And 
 if such an impression derogated from 
 the divine majesty, it is remarkable 
 that our Lord never evinced any care 
 to guard against it, or to remove it. 
 His performance of works " that none 
 other did," and his utterance of 
 words such as "never man spake," 
 as it brought a sensible manifestation 
 of deity before those who witnessed 
 and heard them, was calculated to 
 convey to their unrefined intelligence 
 the idea of a bodily nature belong- 
 ing essentially to God— accordingly 
 against such a misconception he se- 
 dulously guarded, frequently incul- 
 cating the doctrine that " God is a 
 Spirit." Why did not he employ 
 similar precaution lest they should 
 imagine something analogous to men- 
 
283 
 
 tal affection in the Godhead, because 
 its existence was manifest in him, if 
 such an imagination be really injurious 
 to the divine honour? 
 
 3. That it is not so, we believe, 
 admits of proof. A moral nature is 
 evidently attributed in Scripture to 
 the divine Being. The greater portion 
 of it directly, and almost every page 
 either directly or indirectly, represents 
 Him as affixing his approval to all 
 that is just and virtuous, and his re- 
 probation to the contrary. He is not 
 merely represented as acting after a 
 manner in itself tending to promote 
 happiness and virtue in his creation, 
 but the love of all excellence is at- 
 tributed to Him. In the whole history 
 of nominal religion, we are not aware 
 that any sect appears to have existed 
 which denied to the Deity a moral 
 nature. It is not unworthy of being 
 observed in this place that a celebrated 
 writer on Natural Theology, in ar- 
 
284 
 
 guing for the divine goodness, has 
 partly adopted the method of first 
 disproving malignity in God, ap- 
 pearing to trust that when he had 
 done this he had established his own 
 point— assuming tacitly, as universally 
 conceded, that a moral nature of some 
 kind must belong to God. Indeed so 
 universally is it conceded, that even 
 deists have scarcely ever questioned 
 it. Now the possession of a moral 
 nature demonstrably involves the pos- 
 session of mental affection, or of 
 something analogous to it. The 
 perception of moral truth belongs to 
 intelligence, but the love of it is 
 clearly the exercise of a distinct 
 power. If we suppose human in- 
 telligence infinitely expanded, and 
 rendered capable of embracing in one 
 view all objects of thought, while 
 mental affection is severed from its 
 present connection with it, and nothing 
 analogous is substituted, we have no- 
 
285 
 
 thing whereby to account for the love 
 of moral truth ; and without a ca- 
 pability of this, there is no moral 
 nature. Any person who consults his 
 own consciousness for a moment will 
 be assured that to perceive and to love 
 truth are completely distinct. If we 
 had not some capacity distinct from 
 intelligence, we might be able to per- 
 ceive truth, but should be incapable of 
 loving it — and to know that, if so con- 
 stituted, we should be still incapable 
 of loving it, although human intelli- 
 gence were expanded into divine, is to 
 know that there is in Deity, from 
 whose being the love of moral truth 
 is admitted to be inseparable, some- 
 thing analogous to mental affection in 
 man.* 
 
 * It is evident that, whatever view be taken of 
 the nature of moral agency, there can be no moral, 
 without voluntary, agency-— and the latter implies a 
 choice, and choice implies a preference or love of 
 of what is chosen. The above argument is therefore 
 
286 
 
 4. The Scriptures attribute perfect 
 happiness to the Divine Being no less 
 than perfect holiness. He is repre- 
 sented as beholding the excellency of 
 his works, and rejoicing over them. 
 The very fullness of joy is declared to 
 emanate from his presence ; and such 
 language imports that joy in its full- 
 ness is inherent in Him. The ad- 
 mission of this attribute seems equally 
 general with that of his moral nature 
 —and it will uphold an argument for 
 establishing the point we maintain, 
 still stronger, perhaps, than what we 
 endeavoured to raise on the latter ad- 
 mission. If it be inconceivable how 
 a moral nature can belong to Deity, 
 unassociated with any thing analogous 
 to mental affection in man, it seems to 
 be, if possible, still more inconceivable 
 how happiness, even in Deity, can 
 
 independent of the question concerning the nature 
 of moral agency, and is equally valid whether 
 original moral feeling be admitted, or denied. 
 
287 
 
 exist without it. The distinction be- 
 tween intelligence and happiness ap- 
 pears, if possible, plainer still than 
 the distinction between intellectual 
 and moral nature. To understand 
 our condition is one thing ; to rejoice 
 in the consciousness of it is another — 
 each involves the employment of a 
 distinct capacity. If we suppose in- 
 telligence infinitely augmented, it will 
 no more account for the fact of enjoy- 
 ment than for the existence of a moral 
 nature. To account for either we 
 must alike suppose the existence of 
 mental affection , or of some capacity 
 analogous to it. It follows that such 
 capacity must belong to the divine 
 nature, if it be conceded, as it readily 
 ■will be, that the author of all blessed- 
 ness is Himself, in every sense, -' the 
 Blessed,' concentrating in his own 
 eternity the essence of that joy which 
 He diffuses through the universe of 
 the just. It is scarcely necessary to 
 
288 
 
 observe that in thus considering in- 
 telligence as distinct from moral feel- 
 ing and from the capacity of hap- 
 piness, we do not suppose an actual, 
 or even possible, existence of the first, 
 in any being, without the coexistence 
 of the other two. Although distinct 
 in character we believe them insepar- 
 able in fact. The proof of this, how- 
 ever, if it were within our reach, 
 would be foreign from the subject 
 under consideration. 
 
 5. In attempting to draw a more 
 direct argument from the Scriptures 
 in favor of the doctrine at present 
 maintained, we are sensible that much 
 caution ought to be used. When in 
 Scripture language the Divine Being 
 is described as rejoicing in his works, 
 as pitying them that fear Him, we are 
 not, of course, to imagine that the 
 very same affections are attributed to 
 Him which those expressions denote 
 in application to man. Acknowledging 
 
289 
 
 such language to be figurative, we 
 yet seem bound by propriety of inter- 
 pretation, (since figurative language 
 implies comparison), to explain it as 
 attributing to the divine nature some- 
 what admitting of analogy with the 
 human affections literally denoted by 
 it. If it be supposed that the com- 
 parison implied is not between certain 
 attributes of deity and affections of 
 human nature, but between certain 
 actions of deity and human actions 
 that result from the influence of those 
 affections — if the language adduced 
 be regarded as merely expressing that 
 God acts as if he rejoiced in his works, 
 as if he pitied them that fear him, the 
 interpretation can scarcely be con- 
 sidered natural. Let the same mode 
 of interpretation be applied to those 
 passages which affirm the moral attri- 
 butes of God, and its questionable 
 character will appear in a stronger 
 light, the Scriptures being then made 
 2c 
 
290 
 
 to deny a moral nature to God al- 
 together, and to represent him as 
 merely acting as if he were just and 
 merciful, while in fact he is incapable 
 of being either. Who can venture 
 to explain those sublime and affecting 
 words * " God is love," as merely in- 
 dicating that the divine actions re- 
 semble the outflowings of love, while 
 love itself has no being in the divine 
 mind ? Is it less absurd than it would 
 be to explain that burden of angelic 
 praise, "holy, holy, holy, is the Lord," 
 as merely intimating that the divine 
 actions resemble the effects of holiness, 
 while of holiness itself the Divine 
 nature is incapable? It will be re- 
 membered, indeed, that in Scripture 
 language God is also spoken of as the 
 subject of repentance and grief, feel- 
 ings of the human mind to which it 
 seems that nothing in the Divine can 
 be imagined to bear any analogy. 
 Of repentance literally, as implying a 
 
291 
 
 change of design, we acknowledge 
 the divine mind incapable ; and when 
 he is said in Scripture to repent, the 
 expression can only intimate figu- 
 ratively the Divine manifestation of a 
 design before concealed. Repentance, 
 applied to man, involves a sense of 
 displeasure whose object is in some 
 degree himself, and of this the Deity 
 is obviously incapable ; but not in- 
 capable (we trust it has been proved) 
 of somewhat analogous to displeasure, 
 whose object is the criminality of his 
 creatures, and whose existence may 
 be a part of that complex state which 
 the word repentance is employed to 
 denote. When the Divine Spirit is 
 spoken of as grieved with the sins of 
 his people, why may not we explain 
 such language as intimating the ex- 
 istence in the Divine mind of some- 
 what analogous to that blending of 
 love for the offender and displeasure 
 against his offence, which the tender 
 
292 
 
 and faithful mind of an earthly parent 
 may experience? Of this too we 
 trust it has appeared that Deity may 
 be with reason believed capable, 
 although incapable of what grief 
 denotes in the ordinary application 
 of the term to human experience. 
 We do contend that the language of 
 Scripture, illustrative of this subject 
 in general, is too expressive to be 
 justifiably shorne of more than half 
 its force— or if it might be so treated, 
 we contend that the same mode of 
 interpretation, applied to other por- 
 tions of the sacred Volume, would 
 nullify all that it reveals of the moral 
 nature of God. It may possibly be 
 urged, on the other hand, that the 
 mode of interpretation required by the 
 doctrine which we maintain, if applied 
 to certain passages of Scripture, will 
 be productive of equal absurdity, 
 making somewhat analogous to the 
 " eye" and M arm" of man a constituent 
 
293 
 
 portion of the Divine existence, be- 
 cause such words are figuratively ap- 
 plied to Deity. It certainly does fol- 
 low from the principle we have insisted 
 on, that something capable of com- 
 parison with those objects of sense 
 must belong to Deity — but what may 
 be compared with material substances 
 is not necessarily material; and "the 
 eye of the Lord," and " the arm of the 
 Lord" may, consistently with our prin- 
 ciple, be expounded of the divine om- 
 niscience and omnipotence. 
 
 II. Having thus endeavoured to 
 state and defend some arguments in 
 favor of the view of this subject which 
 we have been led to prefer, it remains 
 to anticipate and reply to certain ob- 
 jections that may be brought against 
 it — objections plausible, perhaps, in 
 appearance, but destitute, as we 
 apprehend, of any real weight. 
 
 The objection that maybe advanced 
 on the ground that the present doc- 
 2c2 
 
294 
 
 trine represents the divine nature as 
 allied to imperfection has already been 
 adverted to. This objection will be 
 fully obviated if we discover that the 
 imperfection with which mental af- 
 fection is connected in man, does not 
 belong essentially to mental affection 
 itself, but arises merely out of the 
 finite nature of humanity. The af- 
 fections of the human mind are acted 
 on by causes external to itself, and not 
 controllable at its pleasure — so that 
 our internal condition is never self- 
 established and independent. We 
 do not now refer to that voluntary and 
 idolatrous dependence on circumstance 
 for enjoyment which belongs to our 
 fallen nature, but to that liability to 
 the influence of external causes in 
 putting our affections into exercise 
 which we experience as creatures, 
 encircled with objects independent of 
 us, and formed to operate on our 
 affections. Now it is manifest that 
 
295 
 supposing there be in Deity something 
 analogous to mental affection in man, 
 we must admit the divine nature to be 
 free from the influence of this cause 
 which connects imperfection with that 
 department of the human mind ; there 
 is nothing external to Deity in- 
 dependent of him, nor can any thing 
 happen in all the universe, and 
 throughout eternity, which his om- 
 niscience did not foreknow when His 
 omnipotence first put forth creative 
 power — so that no emotion can be 
 originated in the Divine Mind by any 
 thing external to itself. That which 
 Deity everlastingly loves is goodness 
 in all its forms, ever present to his 
 view — that which He everlastingly 
 hates is evil under every aspect, never 
 hidden from his eye. 
 
 As man is encircled by objects 
 independent of him, and formed to 
 operate on his affections, and those 
 objects are presented in succession, 
 
296 
 and can only thus be regarded by him, 
 successive affections pass through his 
 mind ; where (as in his bodily nature) 
 he is the subject of continual change. 
 This source of imperfection belongs 
 to him as a creature, but can have no 
 place in the Creator. All things are 
 ever present in the great panorama 
 of his view, and, with whatever mind 
 he contemplates them, he must ever 
 contemplate them with the same. He 
 can behold at once the wondrous 
 whole, and every minutest one of its 
 innumerable component parts, eter- 
 nally regarding each with righteous 
 complacence, or with righteous re- 
 probation. There can, therefore, be 
 nothing in Deity resembling the suc- 
 cession of affections in man, and there- 
 fore no source of imperfection origi- 
 nating in it, although we attribute to 
 Deity somewhat analogous to mental 
 affection in man. 
 
 Such are the sources of imper- 
 
297 
 
 fection connected with affection in 
 created minds — their affections are 
 influenced from without, and are suc- 
 cessive; but these are circumstances 
 which cannot be proved essential to 
 the existence of affection, somewhat 
 analogous to which may therefore be 
 conceived as belonging to Deity with- 
 out any alliance with imperfection. 
 The word affection, like the word pas- 
 sion, ordinarily carries our thoughts 
 to an affecting cause external to the 
 mind affected, and in this way affec- 
 tion in every creature must indeed 
 primarily originate — so that in strict 
 language the Deity is without pas- 
 sions or affections. We have only 
 maintained the existence in the Divine 
 nature of somewhat yet undesignated 
 in human language, except by the 
 medium of comparison, and which 
 bears all the analogy to affection in 
 the human mind, that what is in- 
 finite, unchanging, and perfect, can 
 
298 
 
 bear to what is finite, fleeting, and 
 imperfect. 
 
 The present subject is not devoid 
 of practical importance. We love 
 God because He first loved us. It is 
 the conviction of his love to us that 
 awakens our love to Him. But to 
 persuade us that God is a cold Intel- 
 ligence, in whom the reality of love 
 has and can have no being, would be 
 to remove the fire from his altar with 
 which alone one heavenly affection 
 can be kindled in the human mind. 
 It would be to throw a chilling shade 
 over that soul-touching record, " God 
 so loved the world that he gave his 
 only-begotten Son, that whosoever 
 believeth in Him might not perish, 
 but have everlasting life." It would 
 be to take away all that moves the 
 heart from the page of inspiration, 
 and leave it a dead letter. Such is 
 the tendency of a boasted but un- 
 sound theology, which, as it assumes 
 
299 
 
 the ground of general argument, it is 
 necessary to meet on the same ground, 
 in endeavouring to expose its real 
 character to reflecting minds. 
 
 lo noli 
 
 I oi syoI 
 Asi si bo9 tei 
 
 >99ti9gil 
 
 sd Mxjow ( ^£ii9d on avari nm baa . 
 
 
 
 doMw 
 
 
 
 
 END OF THE SERMONS. 
 
 ' 
 
 
 srfj fee 
 
 
 
 .I'-Ay'l, •'. . '.", '.: 
 
 
 edaheq 
 Muof 
 
 Sffl 89VOO 
 
-: t'- i 
 
ESSAY 
 
 MERITS 
 
 MODERN FICTION,. 
 
 To condemn without examination is un- 
 worthy of reason, but to approve without 
 reflection is equally so. While some persons 
 contemplate the idea of fiction with a kind 
 of nervous abhorrence, others indulge as 
 unfounded a prejudice in its favor. Even 
 among persons of genuine piety we occasion- 
 ally meet an instance of the latter sort. It 
 may, indeed, be admitted, that the evil of 
 fiction is in the abuse of it ; but to distinguish 
 this from the use of it, is an important matter, 
 not always settled as it ought to be by per- 
 sons whose principles are right. When a 
 plain Christian hears it announced that a 
 method has at length been discovered of 
 2 D 
 
302 
 
 separating romance altogether from the moral 
 poison of which it used to be the vehicle,, 
 without depriving it of its captivating in- 
 terest, he is astonished, and, perhaps, de- 
 lighted, with the news. He takes up an 
 alleged example of this wonderful achieve- 
 ment, and is perplexed at finding an unhappy 
 and deteriorative influence emanating from 
 it upon his mind. Yet the book may differ 
 widely from the romances of a former 
 school. It may be free from grosser pollu- 
 tions, and wear, altogether, a more sober and 
 imposing air. Still he feels it is no book for 
 him. The very instinct of piety admonishes 
 him of this. He is conscious, while reading, 
 that he breathes in an element uncongenial 
 with religion. But he is thus compelled to 
 disapprove, what others high in his opinion 
 have perhaps allowed and sanctioned, while 
 at the same time he is unable to point 
 out exactly where the evil lies of which he is 
 instinctively sensible. In such a state of 
 mind he may, himself, resolutely renounce a 
 line of reading which he finds injurious, but 
 he can scarcely bear a reasonable testimony 
 against it in the case of others ; and the con- 
 sciousness of this, will not, improbably, seal 
 
303 
 
 his lips. It is surely, then, of importance to 
 detect and expose the evil inherent in the 
 works alluded to, if it really exist. Before 
 attempting this, however, we shall make some 
 remarks on fiction in general. 
 
 1. Between mere fiction and matter of 
 fact there is one important difference ; the 
 former principally addresses the imagination, 
 and the latter the understanding. From a 
 matter of fact ascertained we are naturally 
 disposed to draw inferences more or less, 
 which vary according to our mental ability 
 and principles; but from a fiction we draw 
 none, simply because it is a fiction. When 
 we peruse the pages of history, we infer from 
 recorded events the wisdom and utility of 
 certain public measures, the mischief and ab- 
 surdity of the contrary ; while we observe that 
 human welfare has been uniformly augmented 
 by the one, and diminished by the other. 
 When we study the biographic page, we infer, 
 in like manner, the hollowness and deformity 
 of certain personal qualities, the worth and 
 loveliness of the opposite, observing the ac- 
 tual malignant workings of the one, and 
 beneficent effects of the other. But a fic- 
 titious history, or a fictitious memoir, can 
 
304 
 
 never instruct us in this manner ; for it would 
 be absurd to argue from the regions of imagi- 
 nation to the scenes of real life, and infer 
 from events and incidents painted on a 
 fabulous page, that the principles and qualities 
 to which they are attributed will be pro- 
 ductive of similar effects on the substantial 
 soil of the world. While fact, therefore, 
 gives exercise to the understanding, fiction of 
 itself rather excites the imagination. It is 
 true that different persons will often reason 
 very differently about the same fact, both in 
 the extent of their reasonings, and the nature 
 of their conclusions. Many will reason per- 
 versely, and arrive at conclusions the opposite 
 of those to which unbiassed reflection would 
 have led ; many will go no farther than those 
 intuitive inferences which, by the constitution 
 of our minds, we tacitly and involuntarily 
 make. All men cannot philosophize over a 
 narrative ; but every man who thinks at all 
 will make some mental comment upon it, how- 
 ever meagre it may be. It is this habit 
 whereby all the knowledge of ordinary life 
 is accumulated. We observe, we experience ; 
 and we reason on, or generalize, what we 
 meet. Without this, indeed, man would 
 
305 
 
 cease to be a rational being. But amid the 
 airy scenes of fiction we seldom find such a 
 process passing within. There, for the most 
 part, the understanding, unoccupied, and re- 
 serving itself for a worthier field, sinks into 
 temporary lethargy ; while imagination, all 
 awake, is wrought up to a pleasing delirium. 
 Need it here be insisted on that the former is 
 the more noble faculty, and the more important 
 to exercise — that it is the grand medium by 
 which truth is imbibed, and consequently its 
 influence experienced, while the latter by its 
 perilous fascinatioi^ too often bewilders the 
 judgment, and leads it into the embrace of 
 error, and therefore its prevalent domination 
 is ever to be guarded against ? 
 
 When fiction closely resembles the scenes 
 of real life, it may seem to constitute an ex- 
 ception to the truth of the foregoing ob- 
 servations; which, however, even in such a 
 case apply with considerable force. No man 
 oan reason from fiction as he will reason from 
 fact. However imaginary events may re- 
 semble real, the never-absent consciousness 
 that they are imaginary will keep back the 
 mind from building one serious conclusion 
 upon them. Fiction of this nature may some- 
 2d2 
 
306 
 
 times instruct, as an echo of lessons already 
 inculcated by fact ; but then it is mere fiction 
 no longer; and the instruction is really derived 
 not from the fiction itself, but from the pre- 
 vious observation and experience of life 
 which it brings to recollection. 
 
 There is a more solid exception to what has 
 been advanced on the nature of fiction in 
 general — when emblematic imagery is em- 
 ployed to represent truth, so as to clothe in 
 gold, yet still leave visible, a thread of know- 
 ledge underneath. In this case, while the 
 imagination is interested, the understanding 
 is exercised; for, through all the ornaments 
 with which it is invested, still truth is the ob- 
 ject of the mind's attention. Hence allegory 
 has been profitably employed by the wise of 
 every age, and admitted on the page of in- 
 spiration itself. Its use, even when intended 
 to recommend sound doctrine, will evidently 
 depend on the wisdom with which it is formed. 
 If so formed as that attention is made prin- 
 cipally to rest on the emblems composing it, 
 the imagination will be most occupied, and 
 little or no benefit result ; but if so formed as 
 that attention is chiefly drawn to the truth 
 which it adorns, the understanding will be 
 
307 
 
 most occupied, and the end of allegory at- 
 tained. Far-fetched and ingenious com- 
 parisons will destroy this ; beautiful and fa- 
 miliar ones will promote it. Of the allegorical 
 style we have a perfect example in the 
 parables of Scripture. Familiar enough to 
 reach the apprehension of every class of 
 mankind, and beautiful enough to rivet them- 
 selves on the memory of all ages, they charm 
 the imagination without exciting it, and arrest 
 the understanding while they touch the heart. 
 The reading of the Lost Sheep, the Prodigal 
 Son, the Rich Man and Lazarus, is still im- 
 pressive in an audience where every individual 
 has known them from a child. Among un- 
 inspired compositions the well-known Pilgrim 
 of Bunyan has ever been justly accounted the 
 happiest example of allegory. Far from re- 
 gretting with a celebrated author * the ex- 
 pressive simplicity of its language, we venture 
 to consider it an essential beauty. One de- 
 fect there may be — the thread of the allegory 
 is perhaps too often, and too long, broken 
 in the midst by an undisguised discussion ; 
 but what work of man is perfect J Uniting 
 
 * Pope. 
 
308 
 
 with a fascinating variety of striking yet fa- 
 miliar emblems an experimental depth of 
 religious knowledge, the "Pilgrim's Progress" 
 alike wins the attention of every class and 
 age ; amusing childhood, edifying grey-haired 
 piety, and alluring the enemy of religion to a 
 subject which in any other form he puts 
 away. 
 
 2. From these remarks on fiction itself 
 we proceed to consider the usual tendency of 
 its specimens, especially in modern literature. 
 Of the common novel and romance little need 
 be said, as their pernicious character is uni- 
 versally admitted by religious persons. They 
 are defective in every point ; they offend 
 against every rule. They present a picture 
 but faintly resembling human life ; and even 
 where the copy is most exact, it consists of 
 a combination of scenes calculated to excite 
 some foul or malignant passion, while the cold 
 moral at the end by which this is not quenched, 
 inculcates, if it inculcates any thing, only 
 the fatal principle of self-righteous pride. 
 The romance of the present age is said to be 
 something wholly different — to display a faith- 
 ful transcript of society and manners, only 
 made more attractive by the splendour of 
 
309 
 
 poetical colouring ; to be unsullied with 
 scenes of impure levity; and, if not cha- 
 racterized by a decidedly religious or even 
 moral tendency, to insinuate, at least, in their 
 most pleasing form, important topographical 
 and historical knowledge, Does it follow, 
 supposing all this to be true, that works of 
 this nature may be safely and consistently ad- 
 mitted to the perusal of a serious mind ? 
 This is the question now to be examined. 
 
 A romance may present a combination 
 of scenes, each of which has actually had its 
 counterpart in real life, and yet not on this 
 account afford beneficial instruction even in- 
 dependently of the circumstance that all these 
 scenes, as combined, constitute a fiction, and 
 cannot give rise to the reasonings which we 
 naturally build on fact. Even a narrative, in 
 some sense true, may be barren of such in- 
 struction, although not devoid of interest. A 
 selection of circumstances may be made, each 
 of which is singly true, while combined they 
 insinuate an erroneous lesson. Circumstances 
 may be omitted, which, if known, would place 
 the whole narrative in a different light, and 
 exhibit more justly the issue of human con- 
 duct. Or a narrative may even be strictly 
 
310 
 
 true, so far as it extends, and yet lie open 
 to a similar objection ; the writer may stop 
 at a point where the final result is not de- 
 veloped, and where events appear to issue in 
 a way directly opposite to it. A romance, 
 while resembling real life, may present its 
 scenes in a similar manner — combined as they 
 never are combined, or ended as they never 
 end — and thus, with all its boasted sobriety, 
 may leave a false and fatal impression, if it 
 leaves any at all. 
 
 But a narrative of facts, carried on and 
 concluded with the utmost fidelity of relation, 
 may not always afford of itself, a useful lesson. 
 Divine Providence does not in this world 
 give retributive justice her full display. The 
 reign of mercy is now ; the reign of justice 
 is to come. An account of prosperous 
 wickedness may therefore be faithfully true ; 
 but, considered in isolated singleness, will 
 evidently convey a most pernicious impression 
 to an unenlightened or unstable mind. Sup- 
 posing, therefore, that romance be in every 
 respect a faithful picture of human life, if in- 
 deed it can be this, and be romance — (which 
 is to suppose the utmost of its sobriety) it may 
 still be worse than useless. It is, indeed, in 
 
311 
 
 this respect, less dangerous than a narrative 
 of facts, imperfect or otherwise, which is cal- 
 culated to convey a false lesson when con- 
 sidered alone ; for however imagination may 
 be unfavourably excited by its ideal scenes, 
 the understanding, at least, will draw from 
 them no waking inference. If it be asked, 
 why object to a story whose counterpart has 
 actually been forced on observation ; why 
 must moral or religious instruction be ap- 
 pended to it, in order to correct its evil ten- 
 dency, when none is appended in real life — 
 we reply, that in real life such instances are 
 beheld in connection with the general course 
 of Providence, whose lessons on the whole 
 are decidedly in favour of piety and virtue; 
 but, in such books as we alluded to, they are 
 presented without any counteracting associ- 
 ation. The general course of Providence 
 may indeed be remembered by the reader; 
 but few readers will remember it with effect, 
 while the exciting story engrosses attention* 
 Even history and biography, unaccompanied 
 by sound instruction, teach a perverted lesson 
 to the majority of their students ; for depraved 
 human nature comes to the perusal, pre- 
 disposed to abuse it : even they are known to 
 
312 
 
 excite injuriously the affections of the carnal 
 heart, where religion has not provided her 
 antidote, and converted the poison into food. 
 Oh ! what a wide field lies open, in these 
 departments of knowledge, for the efforts of 
 future genius and learning, sanctified by the 
 love of eternal truth. 
 
 The romances of this day teach history and 
 topography — be it so — but can such things 
 indemnify a christian for the total absence of 
 his own views and principles — of all that can 
 minister to his purity or his peace? And 
 after all, what student will trust in the literary 
 information of a romance, when he knows it 
 to be so mingled with legend, that a previous 
 acquaintance with the subject is requisite for 
 disentangling it ? 
 
 But is the total absence of every tiling 
 christian the only evil with which the fictions 
 of this vaunted school may be chargeable? 
 Let us examine the moral delicacy attributed 
 to them. They may be free from undis- 
 guised obscenity— but is this all that is ne- 
 cessary to guard a youthful heart from con- 
 tamination ? The picture most calculated to 
 kindle unhallowed ardors there, is the one 
 which is drawn with the softest colouring. 
 
313 
 
 When the tender hues of sentimentality are 
 thrown over the grossness of sensual passion, it 
 is no longer recognized, except by those who 
 have their powers well exercised to discern 
 between good and evil. Sensuality unmasked 
 will shock and alarm those whom the very same 
 sensuality in disguise will deceive and cap- 
 tivate. They who know the susceptibility 
 of an early age will feel the vital importance 
 of guarding it from every approach of such a 
 foe. The glowing description even of legi- 
 timate courtship is quite enough to awaken 
 a fever in a young imagination, and infuse a 
 plague into an inexperienced heart. In pro- 
 portion as we are imbued with a holier taste, 
 and confirmed in the principles of serious 
 religion, all such reading will be an object of 
 disgust. It can only be indulged where there ex- 
 isted a previous, although perhaps unsuspected, 
 disposition for it ; and it cannot be indulged 
 in that case without consequences hurtful to 
 the interests of the mind. 
 
 Let us now admit a supposition which to 
 little extent indeed will be found realized 
 — that certain of the works in question are 
 free from all tendency to excite sensual feel- 
 ing; does it follow that they are wholly un- 
 2 E 
 
314 
 
 objectionable I Many, without reflection, will 
 imagine it does. Provided all be right on 
 this point, it never occurs to them that all 
 may be wrong on another, of equal, or even 
 superior, importance. They have scarcely 
 any idea of moral evil beyond its grosser 
 forms. Vice and sin are with them almost 
 interchangeable terms. This is a capital 
 error — and it is astonishing in how great a 
 degree it prevails, even among persons not 
 ignorant of the Bible. TJiere we learn there 
 are other sins beside those of the flesh, and 
 sins that look fouler in the view of divine 
 purity. The first and greatest commandment 
 of God must be that which more immediately 
 respects our duty to Him, and the greatest 
 sin must be that by which this commandment 
 is directly violated. The service which God 
 requires is one wherein the mind is the prin- 
 cipal agent ; and when its affections and 
 powers are engrossed by another object, our 
 duty to Him is doubtless violated more directly 
 than by the mere indulgence of sensual vice. 
 The sins of the mind are moreover the moving 
 springs of all other criminality. When God 
 is not exalted within, but a rival reigns on 
 his throne, the passions are destitute of their 
 
315 
 
 only effectual regulation. Moral anarchy 
 must prevail among them, ere moral turpitude 
 can break into developement. Every tan- 
 gible abomination had its beginning in 
 thoughts over which God was not presiding. 
 AH mental sin does not indeed amount to 
 worshipping and serving the creature more 
 than the Creator, but many do — and no sins 
 of the flesh can of themselves amount to it. 
 There are, then, not only sins of the mind 
 distinct from all gross pollution, but among 
 them the worst of sin is found. When works 
 of fiction foster these, can they for a moment 
 be deemed unobjectionable ? And may not 
 these, no less than sins of the flesh, be dis- 
 guised by a gorgeous colouring, until they 
 delude and fascinate even persons who would 
 abhor them in their naked deformity ? 
 
 Revenge is demonstrably sin. It cannot 
 co-exist in the same mind with the universal 
 benevolence which every man owes to the 
 human race; and were its fiend-like workings 
 uncontrolled, it would propagate its dreadful 
 similitude from breast to breast, until it had 
 rendered earth a hell. It takes the solemn 
 affair of retribution, not only out of the 
 hands of civil authority, but out of His to 
 
316 
 
 whom it supremely belongs. The man who 
 stands armed, and prepared at all points, to 
 resent every affront and punish every wrong, 
 has usurped the prerogative of the Almighty. 
 Even by the moralists of heathenism revenge 
 was accounted a vice, although among the 
 modern enemies of religion it has had its ad- 
 vocates. Writing for christians, we need 
 not reply to their sophistry. With all who 
 believe the Bible the evil of revenge is an 
 axiom. What if this very abomination be 
 exhibited in an amiable disguise, in the 
 works under consideration, and so enveloped 
 in images of grandeur and pathetic interest, 
 as to become insensibly associated with them 
 in the thoughts of the reader, until he begins 
 unaware to regard revenge as something 
 grand and interesting too? It may be dig- 
 nified with well-sounding appellations, and 
 called honorable feeling, generous pride— but 
 names cannot change the nature of the thing, 
 however they may contribute to conceal it 
 from an unsuspecting mind. Ambition is 
 equally known to be sin, and is of darker hue, 
 if possible, even than revenge. While revenge 
 is rather a propensity called forth by circum- 
 stance, ambition is a fixed and governing 
 
317 
 
 principle ; the one, like a volcano, bursts at 
 intervals, into explosion— the other, like the 
 burning lake, sends up its flame for ever. 
 Ambition is self-idolatry bent on self-exalta- 
 tion. Its votary contemplates his own 
 image habitually with supreme admiration, 
 and practically transfers on himself the ho- 
 mage that belongs to Divine Excellence. 
 That place which the Eternal occupies in the 
 mind of an angel, an ambitious man occupies 
 in his own. Now ambition is not only ca- 
 pable, like revenge, of being disguised and 
 rendered interesting, by a designed associa- 
 tion with images of grandeur and beauty; 
 but in its deeper intensity, such as romance 
 delights in portraying, it is for the most part 
 combined by nature with the grand and the 
 beautiful of intellectual character; for the 
 consciousness of possessing these, and in 
 them the means of probable advancement, 
 will naturally animate the desire of attaining 
 it. Hence to render ambition attractive to 
 our fallen nature is a task of peculiar facility. 
 What if it has been but too well executed by 
 the masters of fiction in the present age ? 
 What if they have displayed the mental sub- 
 limity so often allied with ambition, enhanced 
 2 e2 
 
318 
 
 by all the colouring that genius can employ, 
 without sketching one line of the moral 
 hideousness really inherent in it? 
 
 We shall now suppose a work of fiction to 
 be unobjectionable on any of the grounds 
 hitherto enumerated, and to be all, in short, 
 that fiction may be without a pervading spirit 
 of piety — a faithful transcript of domestic 
 relations, and all the legitimate affections that 
 arise from them, developed in a series of af- 
 fecting, yet not improbable, scenes; with a 
 just moral, not merely appended to the story, 
 but inculcated by the tenor and issue of it ; 
 not one tint of splendour employed in the 
 disguise and decoration of sensuality, re- 
 venge, ambition, or any of their kindred 
 abominations. This is, plainly, the most fa- 
 vorable supposition we can make. Is such 
 a work, then, blameless ? Is it one over 
 which the pious may hang, and indulge in all 
 the luxury of pleasing emotions, without 
 danger of any impression being left that 
 need be regretted ? 
 
 In the loveliest and most innocent form of 
 unregenerate life, a sin exists, which in the 
 judgment of God, as we learn from his Word, 
 is one of the highest magnitude. The heart 
 
319 
 
 is not given to God, but all its affections are 
 lavished on the creature. Each affection in 
 itself may be blameless, its object legitimate, 
 its developement amiable ; but all centre su- 
 premely on the world, and have the character 
 of idolatry. Where is it that the Christian of 
 established principle finds the firmness of his 
 religious character put to the most trying 
 test? It is in such a scene. Every thing 
 around him is lawful, except that God is not in 
 any thing. The warmth of friendship, the 
 tenderness of domestic attachment, the harm- 
 less brilliancy of intellectual converse, the 
 fascination of urbpuity, is there ; but God is 
 not there. How shall he summon resolution, 
 in so soft a scene, to set about the rough work 
 of pleading for him? How shall he startle 
 its amiable tranquillity with so unwelcome a 
 theme ? And if he forbear it, how shall he 
 escape a contagion so insinuating, and resist 
 the lethargic influence of such enchanted 
 ground? He is in danger of a deadening 
 effect on his spirituality, and God only can 
 preserve him. Let him not, uncalled, en- 
 counter so insidious a temptation. Now all 
 the loveliness, and much of the evil influence 
 of such a scene, may be transferred to the 
 
320 
 
 pages of a romance. All its insinuating 
 amiableness may be mirrored, and all its 
 worldliness retained. Hence, in the perusal 
 of such a work, the temptation again meets 
 us in another form. The idolatry of world- 
 liness, in captivating colours, is again before 
 us ; the imagination is spell-bound, and through 
 it the feelings— how shall we repel the pleas- 
 ing illusion? The danger, in the real scene, 
 is not so much that the understanding will be 
 directly misled, as that the heart will be in- 
 juriously influenced, by what is passing 
 under the senses ; and the same danger may 
 in a large measure be transferred to the ideal 
 scene, in the midst of which the heart may 
 be deteriorated also, by what passes before the 
 imagination. Ought a Christian to volunteer 
 himself into either? Presuming on the 
 strength of his piety, ought he to go, uncalled, 
 where piety is endangered? Let him re- 
 member that it is an exotic on earth, and can 
 only thrive in an atmosphere that is breathed 
 from heaven — every breath from the spirit of 
 the world will soil its freshness, will dull its 
 fragrance, and make its vigour languish. 
 What treasure ought a Christian guard like 
 spirituality of mind? It is the lnedium of 
 
321 
 
 every virtue that adorns his profession, and 
 essential to the continuance of his peace. 
 Without it he dishonours God, he forgets his 
 Redeemer, and grieves the Spirit of Holi- 
 ness ; his faith is an unsubstantial phantom, 
 his character a painted sepulchre; he is a 
 blemish in the church on earth, and an alien 
 from the Commonwealth of heaven. 
 
 It appears, then, that a work of fiction may 
 have every merit which is claimed for those 
 of our own age, and yet be unfit to occupy a 
 place in a Christian library. It may bear a 
 grave resemblance to real life ; it may be free 
 from revolting impurity ; it may be stored 
 with valuable information — and at the same 
 time insinuate the poison of sensual depravity, 
 or give attraction to revenge, to ambition, or 
 some similar corruption of the mind. More- 
 over it may be free from objection on each of 
 these latter grounds, while it breathes a 
 worldliness that must infect the spirituality of 
 the Christian, who can take pleasure in the 
 perusal of it. Hitherto we have shown what 
 the works in question may be, consistently 
 with ail the merit claimed for them, rather 
 than what they actually are. But the fact is, 
 that these boasted productions not only con- 
 
tain, in general, every evil which has been 
 proved compatible with their reputed supe- 
 riority, but more than we have yet enume- 
 rated. They dress up lust, and call it by 
 interesting names; they pervert into a false 
 magnificence ambition, revenge, and every 
 congenial evil ; and, without one exception, 
 they are wholly characterized by the spirit of 
 the world. But in addition to all this, how 
 often do they paint as something superhuman 
 that sentimental effeminacy which never yet 
 originated one profitable effort, or one wise 
 reflection, but alike unfits the person who in- 
 dulges it for this world and for the next. 
 Pervaded, as they universally are, by a spirit 
 at virtual variance with that of religion, how 
 often are they also made vehicles of a de- 
 signed hostility to her cause ; and, under 
 pretence of ridiculing fanaticism, contempt is 
 poured along their pages over every thing 
 most holy. Can a Christian look without 
 pain on sentences pointed by malignant wit 
 against every thing that he most loves and 
 venerates? If he can, is it wise to familiarize 
 his mind with the associations of profaneness, 
 and rub off the tenderness of its devotional 
 feelino* ? 
 
323 
 
 However firmly seated in the mind of a 
 Christian may be the conviction of his final 
 security, let him never forget that so blessed 
 an end is not accomplished without the inter- 
 vention of appointed means, among which his 
 own watchfulness may be confidently num- 
 bered. Although the subject of a trans- 
 forming and Almighty influence from above, 
 let him remember that until life be ended, 
 sanctification is not complete, and there still 
 linger about him corruptions congenial with 
 every circumjacent evil. A work of fiction, 
 performed by a hand which the grace of God 
 never guided, is, to say the least, a glowing 
 picture of that world whose example is con- 
 tagious, and whose look is seductive. It 
 gathers up, and combines, and decorates the 
 temptations of life, and pours their con- 
 centrated influence on the heart, through the 
 medium of imagination. Let hands that God 
 has hallowed be far from the gilded pollution. 
 However speciously prepared by the master- 
 skill of genius, it is but the more effectual 
 to delude and defile. The relaxations of the 
 serious ought to be pure, and may be profit- 
 able ; but the perusal of splendid folly is 
 neither. Let us imagine the pages of such a 
 
324 
 
 production spread out for the judgment of 
 Incarnate Wisdom, or one of his inspired 
 messengers — who does not anticipate what 
 lhat judgment would be ? :in j nfidd aiol 
 
 We have hitherto supposed the encomium 
 commonly passed on the fictions of the age, 
 (as we quoted it) to be no more than just. 
 After what has been already said, it will be of 
 little moment to inquire whether it be so in 
 every point. But the truth is they are far from 
 a faithful resemblance of real life; and the 
 world of romance is still widely different from 
 the world of reality. To move in thought 
 along an imaginary world, in which all things 
 pleasing to our fallen nature are met, and 
 every thing unwelcome to it kept se- 
 dulously out of view — to converse with ideal 
 beings, encompassed with a halo that never 
 shines around a living character — has ever a 
 tendency to insinuate disrelish for the tame 
 realities of life and human society. Is this 
 an effect to be desired, or deprecated, by one 
 who knows the importance of active duty and 
 of personal happiness? 
 
 It will be readily perceived that the fore- 
 going remarks apply with equal force to the 
 whole range of the drama, and (it is painful to 
 ! S 
 
325 
 
 think) to a very large proportion of literature in 
 her most engaging forms. If the whole world 
 lie in wickedness, it is no wonder that her lite- 
 rary lore bears traces of the universal defile- 
 ment. The prevailing taste of every reader will 
 principally guide his selection; and the more 
 that of a religious professor is consistent with 
 the character he wishes to sustain, the less will 
 he need argumentative discussion to direct him. 
 He will of himself judge rightly. The taste 
 for what is Heavenly, prevalent in his soul, 
 will reject instinctively what is heterogeneous 
 from it. All cannot be right where an in- 
 jurious taste prevails — it is a mark of disease 
 in the moral, no less than in the natural, 
 system. 
 
 Of Religious Fiction in general we have 
 only to observe, as we have already said of 
 allegory in particular, that the good or evil 
 tendency of it appears to depend on the 
 judgment with which it is framed, and the 
 spirit by which it is pervaded. We believe 
 that it may be sober, unpolluted, spiritual; 
 although it has not uniformly been so. But 
 immoderate indulgence in the perusal of 
 fiction, even in her best form, either finds the 
 mind feeble, or will leave it so. 
 2 F 
 
LECTURE 
 
 ON THE 
 
 DIFFUSION OF KNOWLEDGE. 
 
 
 
 Allow me to congratulate you, my re- 
 spected auditors, on the feeling" which has 
 prompted you to call a minister of religion 
 to the commencement of your annual labors, 
 Unequal, as I know myself, to do any thing 
 like justice to the task you have allotted 
 me, and much as I should prefer a place 
 among the audience of this night to the one 
 I occupy, were personal feeling listened to, 
 I yet cannot but rejoice for her sake, that 
 even the most unworthy of her public servants 
 is thus permitted to appear among you. 
 Although our sermons must not travel beyond 
 their assigned sphere of locality, the pulpit 
 and the reading-table, you, doubtless neither 
 
327 
 
 expect, nor wish us, to forget our office alto- 
 gether here. You have therefore repeated, 
 by putting a parson once more into the lec- 
 turer's chair, your noble testimony already 
 similarly given that Religion and Science 
 are not enemies, and the cause of either has 
 nothing to dread from the prosperity of the 
 other. You have given, too, a public pledge 
 (which will surely be well redeemed) that the 
 exertions of a year thus begun, while they 
 operate in spreading wider the daily-widening 
 circle of knowledge, shall be productive of 
 nothing over which virtue might blush, or 
 piety have reason to drop a tear. 
 
 There are well-meaning men who look with 
 distrustful eyes on the increasing diffusion of 
 general knowledge by which the present age 
 is happily characterized. It seems to thexn 
 essential to the order and well-being of so- 
 ciety that the greater part of it should be 
 kept in ignorance. Were the population of 
 the globe once let into the awful secret of the 
 extent of their physical power when com- 
 bined, such persons foretell, as the result, a 
 catastrophe which would shake the frame 
 of nations, and reduce into chaos the political 
 world. According to their view the social 
 
328 
 
 body must be bound about with the leaden 
 chains of an intellectual captivity, to guard 
 it from the greater evil of a maniacal suicide. 
 Yes — and there are friends of religion, too, 
 who look with timid apprehension on the 
 march of popular mind, as fraught with peril 
 to the cause which they have nearest the 
 heart. A multitude of profane and repulsive 
 associations have unhappily gathered around 
 the idea of science in their upright minds, 
 until they have come at length to regard it 
 as wholly incompatible with the influence of 
 an all-prevalent piety. Ignorance is thus 
 made not only bliss, but wisdom and duty too. 
 Oh ! sad decree of eternal providence, if this 
 were a providential decree — that the torch of 
 science, elevated in the sight of mankind, 
 must disperse, like shadows of night, the 
 blessings of the present life, and the hopes of 
 another — that in order to secure both, we 
 must, like the hero of the tale with which our 
 childhood was familiar, darken and close up 
 the chamber of knowledge, and affix an 
 edict of exclusion on the door, as if the san- 
 guinary secret of human destruction were 
 locked within ! But this, if it were desirable, 
 would be now impracticable. The tide of 
 

 irrepressible inquiry would soon burst every 
 barrier in its way, and rush in with accu- 
 mulated force on the forbidden spot. The 
 voice of learning is gone forth, irrevocable by 
 any earthly power. The rays of information, 
 multiplied in innumerable reflections, have 
 shone abroad, and none can extinguish them. 
 Many shall run to and fro, and knowledge in 
 every department shall be increased, until the 
 gracious designs of an ever-watchful pro- 
 vidence are carried into accomplishment. 
 
 Oh ! what enjoyments would the jealous 
 or timid enemies of knowledge blot from the 
 page of human life. Intellect may be per- 
 verted, and its powers misapplied ; but its 
 
 - 
 pleasures in themselves are pure. They do 
 
 not, like the darker passions of the mind, or 
 the more depraved appetites of the body, in 
 their willing indulgence necessarily involve 
 moral evil, however they may be accidentally 
 allied with it. They are not, in their own 
 nature, essentially connected with theoretical 
 or practical impiety, however the touch of 
 either may have profaned them. Between 
 what is intellectual and what is moral there is 
 a broad and palpable distinction, so that 
 the latter is, in no way, inevitably implicated 
 P 2 F 
 
330 
 
 in the former. The pleasures of intellectual 
 exercise may be felt, indifferently, where the 
 moral constitution is disordered, or where it is 
 regulated aright. In either case they may be 
 felt, but not, indeed, equally; for I believe 
 that the right adjustment of the moral system 
 will ever heighten and enhance the enjoy- 
 ments of the intellectual. These enjoyments 
 are free from the wild agitation of sensual 
 indulgence. They are tasted best when the 
 mind, retired within herself, converses with her 
 own abstractions, or with the spirits of the 
 great and good of distant climes and de- 
 parted ages. They are frayed away by the 
 tumult of frivolous amusement, and visit the 
 soul in the stillness of her own solitude. 
 They are unconfined by seasons and localities. 
 They dwell with us at home ; they travel with 
 us beyond sea ; they cheer the fire-side with 
 their presence ; and lend additional glory 
 to the landscape of summer. Time, that 
 takes away from other joys, only brings ac- 
 cumulation to their amount ; and both reason 
 and revelation sanction the hope that death 
 shall augment and perpetuate them in the 
 good. Nay, we might almost yield ourselves 
 to the illusion which the sublime fiction of 
 
331 
 
 Milton would create, and suppose the plea- 
 sures of intelligence forcing their way where 
 no other can come, and casting a transient 
 gleam among the shadows of final despair ! 
 
 From the tyro victorious over his puzzling 
 problem up to that mighty genius who saw 
 the movements of planetary mechanism laid 
 bare before him, and the laws of material 
 nature disrobed of half the mysiery which 
 had hidden them from every eye but his own, 
 there is a universal pleasure in the ac- 
 quisition of knowledge. The object of in- 
 terest may be something speculative and 
 remote, or it may be something practical 
 and ordinary; but the joy of successful in- 
 quiry, in one form or another, is what no 
 rational being can be wholly a stranger to. 
 On every subject but one you may find a 
 man with scarce an idea ; touch that one, 
 and you awaken the secret of his slumbering 
 intelligence. Bring all men to one special 
 department of knowledge and you may judge 
 the majority irrational ; bring each to his own 
 selected one, and you will the see the plea- 
 sures of intelligence, in some sense, as widely 
 diffused as the world. The tastes of men 
 are infinitely various — give almost any in- 
 
332 
 
 dividual his favorite theme, and you witness 
 the activity of powers perhaps unsuspected 
 before. And because the field of thought 
 is boundless, there is always something to be 
 acquired. The objects of sense are innu- 
 merable by the art of the arithmetician. 
 His infinites cannot be brought into prac- 
 tical coincidence with the infinites of na- 
 ture. In what innumerable relations and 
 connections may each of them be viewed by 
 the investigating mind ! In addition to the*e 
 she commands the store of her own abstrac- 
 tions, and can view them in infinitely various 
 connections too ; and has, moreover, access 
 to the peculiar combinations of thought pre- 
 sented on the page of Revelation. The 
 fields of inquiry are boundless as immensity 
 itself. The science of external nature, the 
 abstract sciences, the science of man* and 
 the divine science, as religion may be called, 
 will be inexhaustible, while external nature 
 remains, while abstract truth exists, while 
 the immortality of man is unexpired, and 
 the eternity of God flows on. In each of 
 the kingdoms of creation there is more than 
 enough to occupy greater than human powers 
 throughout an interminable existence. The 
 
333 
 
 imaged infinity of God is there ; it meets 
 us alike in the vast and the minute, in the 
 world of matter and the world of mind. 
 The student of truth in every department 
 sums up the acquirements of a whole life in 
 the well-known sentiment of the sage, " I 
 have only gathered a few pebbles on the 
 shore, while the great ocean of truth lay 
 unexplored before me." The historian of 
 nature shall never pause for lack of ma- 
 terials. The mineralogist of every age shall 
 go on to explore the treasures, and the 
 geologist to investigate the strata and struc- 
 ture of the earth. The botanist shall again 
 swell the catalogue of her known vegetation, 
 and embalm upon his page plants that have 
 flowered unobserved beneath the footsteps 
 of ages. The experimental philosopher shall 
 pursue the decompositions and combinations 
 of his various art, aud still electrify the 
 world with new discoveries of the secrets, 
 and new applications of the powers, of na- 
 ture. The zoologist, like our first parent, 
 calling around him the countless animal 
 tribes of earth, of ocean, and of air, shall 
 find unterminating employment in bringing 
 them beneath the order of his classifications, 
 
334 
 
 in recording their peculiarities, and tracing 
 them to their several causes — and as the 
 powers of the microscope are multiplied, 
 they will multiply, in one quarter of his 
 province, resources already unbounded. The 
 mathematician shall carry on his calculations 
 in endless series, aud produce new theorems 
 to facilitate and confirm them ; and the 
 learned of future times will contemplate 
 with rapture the solution of problems over 
 which a Newton paused. The powers of 
 the telescope shall have a wider range, and 
 astronomy shall take down the roll of her 
 sublime records, to add another and another 
 volume. The anatomist shall find innume- 
 rable the wonders of the human structure; 
 the physiologist add again to the known laws 
 of animal economy ; and the scattered and 
 unsettled principles of medical philosophy 
 shall be gathered by some master mind into 
 one consistent and still growing system of 
 demonstrated science. The philologist, ever 
 busy too, shall throw a still increasing light 
 on the history of nations extinct, and of the 
 human mind itself, from the genius of par- 
 ticular languages, and the principles common 
 to all. The pile of eloquence and elegant 
 
335 
 
 literature shall rise higher and higher. Crea- 
 tive genius, combining with infinite variety 
 the contents of his inexhaustible kaleidoscope, 
 shall still produce 
 
 '« Forms ever fair, and worlds for ever new," 
 
 and furnish fresh materials to the band of 
 criticism while she illustrates the theory of 
 composition, the principles of taste, and 
 the philosophy of imagination. The histo- 
 rian and the biographer shall each place in 
 new and more important points of view his 
 already accumulated stores; and witness 
 their endless augmentation, while time evolves 
 the destiny of nations and the lot of in- 
 dividual life. The student of jurisprudence 
 shall pour new light on the importance of 
 principle, and the respect due to precedent ; 
 shall elucidate more fully the connection of 
 every seeming exception with its related rule, 
 and with the fundamental axioms of eternal 
 justice; and call in the aid of science to 
 give more luminous order to the multifarious 
 mass of his acquisitions. The essential con- 
 nection of political with ethical science, and 
 that of the latter with religion, shall be more 
 clearly and generally understood. The truths 
 
336 
 
 in whose influence lie the real wealth and 
 prosperity of nations, breaking from the 
 cloud of prejudice and the darkness of igno- 
 rance, shall stand out before the eyes of man- 
 kind. The vile doctrine of expediency shall 
 be exploded, and the noble sentiment which 
 even a heathen could utter, "fiat justitia, 
 ruat coelum," shall be the motto inscribed 
 on every senate-house in the globe. The 
 metaphysician, who has hitherto done little 
 more than refute old errors, and replace them 
 with his own, shall separate the true and the 
 false, the certain and the doubtful ; and, 
 directing his patient and penetrating glance 
 inward on the mysteries of his own in- 
 tellectual being, shall bring his additional 
 stock in every succeeding age to the esta- 
 blished philosophy of mind. And the theo- 
 logian, preferring the Revelation of a better 
 world to all the wonders of the present, 
 will continue to Work in that mine of heavenly 
 wisdom, and ever find it unfathomable ; 
 while omnipotence, fulfilling still what om- 
 niscience has foretold, shall lay before him 
 new evidence of its truth, and new materials 
 for his profoundest meditations. The ac- 
 quisition of knowledge even here shall be 
 
337 
 
 unbounded, but what shall it be hereafter — 
 when the soul, no longer enveloped in the 
 cloud of dull materialism, but furnished with 
 a subservient organization of immortal and 
 untiring power, shall expatiate in more ex- 
 alted spheres, and, with infinitely augmented 
 means of attainment, go on to mingle the 
 joy of knowledge with her loftier felicity, 
 through the flow of everlasting ages. The 
 acquisition of knowledge shall be unbounded ; 
 and although it be the lot of but a few to 
 add one mite to the general treasure, yet the 
 pleasure of acquiring knowledge shall be un- 
 bounded too ; and all may participate in it 
 The longest life would not suffice to exhaust 
 the library of existing information. As genius 
 enlarges it, the opportunities of unambitious 
 learning will increase. If every student can- 
 not expand the circle of science, others 
 will expand it while he stands within. He 
 shall enter on their labours with less labour, 
 and more tranquil enjoyment. The pleasure 
 attending the acquisition of knowledge shall 
 be thus general, and, in some sense, equal- 
 ized. If there be a pleasure in the acqui- 
 sition, there is a pleasure too in the very 
 possession of knowledge. The mind rumi- 
 2g 
 
338 
 
 nates, delighted, on the thoughts whereon 
 she has fed before. The beautiful, every time 
 it is contemplated, appears more beautiful; 
 the sublime is witnessed with augmented 
 admiration; and fresh advantage is derived 
 from the lessons of wisdom. Is there not a 
 joy too, distinct from the guilty elevations of 
 pride, in the consciousness that the will of 
 eternal goodness has appointed us no place 
 in the scale of intellect less favorable to the 
 capacity of enjoyment, than the one we oc- 
 cupy? An angel might mourn if doomed 
 to degradation among beings of clay, and 
 be an angel in virtue still. And are there 
 no pleasures in communicating knowledge, 
 from him whose "delightful task," is "to rear 
 the tender mind" up to him who unfolds to 
 listening taste and learning the highest 
 mysteries of known science ? These plea- 
 sures you have experienced, and can testify 
 that philanthrophy and virtue may feel them. 
 
 Interesting as it must be to the lover of 
 knowledge to dwell on the pleasures attend- 
 ing it, little argument is needed to prove 
 their reality, while few in such an age as the 
 present are disposed to question it. The 
 utility of knowledge in its general diffusipn 
 
339 
 
 I have already observed has been called in 
 question by persons who, zealous in behalf 
 of social order and religion, little think what 
 a wound they thus help to inflict on each. 
 To express a doubt of their probable per- 
 manence, in the event of information being 
 diffused among every class of mankind, is 
 to insinuate a doubt of their origin being 
 due to wisdom and truth. Since in wisdom 
 and truth they have indeed originated, the 
 extension of knowledge will display the fact 
 more fully and more widely, and can only 
 tend to confirm their inherent durability. 
 Who will most value the blessings of civil 
 government, regulating personal freedom, and 
 securing every just right and legitimate 
 privilege — is it he, whose mind, having 
 scarcely ever reflected on one comprehensive 
 subject, is incapable of forming any rational 
 opinion on this, or he who with the powers of 
 a well-exercised understanding has discerned 
 in the light of history and observation, the 
 immense importance of those blessings, arising 
 out of the known frailty of human nature, 
 and perilous tendency of its passions when 
 void of control? Who will most value the 
 blessings of religion, the cheering' and in- 
 
340 
 
 structive light she pours on the present and 
 future condition of man — is it he, who, un- 
 accustomed to any serious thought, has 
 never thought seriously of her claims, or let 
 down the line of examination into the pro- 
 foundness of her truths — or is it he who can 
 intelligently weigh the one, and meditate over 
 the other? Enough for peace and purity 
 may be understood of religion by the rudest 
 of rational beings — and this is one of the 
 glories of religion — but if the whole course 
 and analogy of nature, and the whole history 
 of our species, be in favor of her doctrines 
 and her claims, must not an extensive know- 
 ledge of nature and of man tend rather to 
 confirm than to undermine religious belief? 
 " A little philosophy," says Lord Bacon, 
 " maketh men atheists ; but depth of philo- 
 sophy bringeth men's minds about to re- 
 ligion." Surely the voice that issues from 
 the works of God cannot contradict the 
 voice that issues from his word. May I not 
 on this occasion be permitted to remind you 
 how often and with what commanding ma- 
 jesty heavenly Truth has stretched forth her 
 hand to the visible creation, as corroborating 
 her testimony — how often, and how solemnly 
 
341 
 
 she urges the study of the page of nature, 
 as well as the study of her own ? " Great 
 are the works of the Lord, sought out (or 
 searched) by all who have pleasure therein." 
 " A brutish man knoweth not this, neither 
 doth a fool understand it," " Because they 
 regard not the works of the Lord, neither 
 consider the operation of his hands, He shall 
 destroy them." 
 
 We may lay it down that nothing can be 
 injurious to human welfare, which can be 
 proved a disposition of Divine Providence, 
 arising, not out of the permitted depravity, 
 but out of the original constitution, of man. 
 To his original constitution belongs evidently 
 the intellectual department of his soul, con- 
 sidered apart from the accidental darkness 
 with which it may be obscured, or the heri- 
 ditary weakness which may be entailed upon 
 it, by the influence of his moral disorders. 
 On this department of the human soul the 
 labours of omnipotence were not meant to be 
 expended in vain ; and the instinctive desire 
 of mental, as of corporeal exercise, in some 
 form, must have ever belonged to the nature 
 of man. The intellectual instinct (if I may 
 venture to call it so) may be, indeed, and to 
 2g2 
 
342 
 
 a wide extent actually is, perverted in its 
 developement, and confined in its smug- 
 glings ; but even in the rudest form of so- 
 ciety its existence will be found. It prompts 
 the unlettered peasant to the formation of a 
 thousand plans, and the invention of a 
 thousand expedients, for overcoming the dif- 
 ficulties, or widening the enjoyments, of his 
 lowly condition. It impels the most uncul- 
 tivated savage to rouse his slumbering, yet 
 not extinguished powers, and employ them, 
 in the absence of worthier occupation, on 
 the stratagems of the chase, or the deeper 
 stratagems of ferocious war. Whether the 
 exercise of understanding in these instances 
 be partly the result of an instinctive desire 
 for it, or wholly the result of other desires, 
 it matters not as far as the present argument 
 is concerned. He who consults his own 
 consciousness, and remembers the language 
 of half-occupied thought, and the impos- 
 sibility of keeping it wholly unoccupied in 
 our waking hours, will incline to the former 
 view of the subject. The circumstances of 
 the human condition certainly create an ad- 
 ditional stimulus to the exercise of the human 
 understanding ; one which must have operated 
 
343 
 
 at every period, and must continue to operate 
 while the present world exists. There have 
 ever been, and will be, wants to be supplied, or 
 desires to be gratified, which call into action, 
 more or less, the intellectual faculties. And 
 what one generation has acquired will, if 
 only by the imperfect medium of tradition, 
 be handed down in some measure to the 
 next ; which latter will also feel the instinct 
 impulsive to mental exercise, and will thus 
 add something, however small, to the inherited 
 stock of its ideas. The blasting influence of 
 unpropitious events may sometimes sweep 
 away every little acquisition held by so feeble 
 a tenure, and thus put back the process of 
 human improvement ; but in such cases the 
 natural tendency of the human mind to in- 
 tellectual advancement has been checked only, 
 and not disproved. But when once that 
 point in civilization is reached where the art 
 of recording thought is discovered, the ad- 
 vancement of knowledge has been secured. 
 It may retrogade in particular nations even 
 then, from a concurrence of adverse influ- 
 ences — but the records of past discovery can 
 not be wholly swept away even by a Gothic 
 inundation ; and they will form the starting 
 
344 
 
 point from which other nations will again 
 begin the career of improvement. It is to 
 this we may chiefly attribute the vast supe- 
 riority, in science, of the modern over the 
 ancient world. After the tide of barbarian 
 desolation had subsided, and the human mind 
 began to recover from the agitation of ex- 
 terminating war and brutal anarchy^ the tro- 
 phies of classic learning were observed to 
 linger among the relics of the past ; and 
 their value was at length appreciated. The 
 young world conversed with the mighty 
 spirits of the old, and caught the flame of 
 their literary ardor. Where they ended, the 
 moderns began ; and adding link after link, 
 lengthened out, and still lengthen, the won- 
 drous chain of human knowledge. And if 
 the whole tide of northern devastation, with 
 the subsequent semi-barbarism of ages, could 
 not utterly efface the monuments of ancient 
 learning, we may venture to regard the de- 
 struction of literature as an impossibility 
 now. The art of printing has conferred on 
 it a durability which shall be coincident with 
 that of the world. It is a fact, then, that 
 human knowledge has increased in amount, 
 and in extent of diffusion too. Notwith- 
 
345 
 
 standing* what some have rashly affirmed, 
 that civilization and her attendant blessings 
 have migrated from clime to clime, without 
 enlarging their sphere on the whole, one 
 glance at the map will satisfy common can- 
 dor of the contrary. Such has been the ar- 
 rangement of an all-wise and benevolent 
 Providence — who shall venture to arraign it? 
 Have we not here presumptive evidence, 
 endued with the force of demonstration to 
 every well-regulated mind, that from the 
 mere extension of knowledge no one evil need 
 be anticipated? The march of science is 
 not due to the diseased, but arises from the 
 original constitution of human nature, and is 
 therefore a direct arrangement of all-govern- 
 ing wisdom, whose tendency in itself can be 
 only beneficial. Knowledge, indeed, like 
 every other good, may be abused — a point 
 which shall be noticed hereafter. 
 
 That the diffusion of knowledge operates 
 beneficially on the temporal interests of man, 
 may be easily seen. I assume as granted, 
 notwithstanding the paradox of Rousseau, 
 the superiority, in happiness, of civilized 
 over savage life. Never was a saying more 
 true than the proverbial one, " knowledge is 
 
346 
 
 power." It gives man authority over the 
 animal world, over the elements of nature, 
 and over the mind of his fellow-man. By 
 knowledge be bows to his yoke the physical 
 superiority of every tameable animal, thus, 
 in many an instance, rendering the earth 
 passable and habitable to himself, where else 
 it would be an impenetrable wilderness. As 
 the achievements of civilization multiply, crea- 
 tures untameable by his art, retire before 
 him, hemmed within narrower and still narrow- 
 ing limits — so that a period may arrive when 
 their fossile remains, and the records of 
 zoology alone, will indicate the past existence 
 of the monsters of the forest. By knowledge 
 he multiplies a thousand-fold the fertility of 
 earth ; penetrates her bosom, changes her sur- 
 face ; yokes the wings to his chariot and 
 makes himself a way over the trackless ocean, 
 bringing back the riches, the comforts, and 
 the learning, of every other land to his own. 
 Thus not only the enjoyments of life are 
 multiplied, but life itself is multiplied too — 
 for divine Providence has ordained that 
 earth's inhabitants shall increase with the 
 increasing means of their preservation. 
 Hence the very blessing of existence, with 
 
347 
 
 all its capacities of enjoyment and excel- 
 lence, is derived to millions, whose place in 
 creation would otherwise be a blank and a 
 void. And if knowledge endows man with 
 an influence over his fellow-man, it is one 
 not inconsistent with rational and practicable 
 freedom, but in every respect capable of 
 being turned to the account of the general 
 weal. Universal equality, I may be allowed 
 to say, is a mere idea impossible to be real- 
 ized. The Almighty dispenses variously, 
 in his infinite wisdom, the gifts of nature and 
 of providence — the result of which must ever 
 be a difference of place among men. This 
 subordination has ever been found, and is 
 indeed obviously, essential to the preserva- 
 tion of society. A world where no evil 
 passions are, might, possibly, do well with- 
 out it ; but ours never could. Whatever 
 innocently tends to strengthen the chain of 
 subordination is therefore a benefit to man- 
 kind. Knowledge has such a tendency. Su- 
 perior mental attainments among the higher 
 classes will confirm the reverence due to 
 superiority of station ; and the diffusion of 
 right education among the humbler classes, 
 while it makes them acquainted with the 
 
348 
 
 necessity of subordination, must ultimately 
 tend to produce a rational acquiescense in it. 
 But, as some will ever possess more largely 
 than others the leisure and means of acquir- 
 ing knowledge, it must ever continue to be 
 unequally distributed among men, like every 
 other boon of heaven ; and thus the widest 
 practicable diffusion of knowledge will still 
 operate in favor of subordination, by dis- 
 tributing unequally, and, in the main, accord- 
 ing to the inequalities of existing subordi- 
 nation, the influence attending superior men- 
 tal attainments. A familiar example of this 
 influence is the well-known importance of the 
 village school-master. He has triumphantly 
 carried off from a book-stall, a soiled fragment 
 of Blackstone ; and having long pored on its 
 page by the light of his solitary midnight 
 candle, he has contrived to extract from it a 
 few notions on the subject of civil law. This 
 is a kind of knowledge which the rustics of 
 his neighbourhood are prepared to appre- 
 ciate; and he becomes of consequence 
 among them. If he be a man of upright 
 and benevolent mind his little influence will 
 often operate well in its sphere ; and although 
 we smile at the picture of it, our smile is one 
 
349 
 
 of good-humour, not of contempt. A far 
 more important example of the truth in 
 question occurs in the history of the South Sea 
 Islands. There, superior knowledge was 
 made, indeed, the handmaid of amelioration. 
 Before the rude natives could welcome the 
 doctrine, and appreciate the piety, of the 
 Christian Missionaries, they were taught to 
 revere their persons. The arts, the agricul- 
 ture, the mysterious learning, of Europe, 
 held them in awe ; and they stood at respect- 
 ful distance, or lent ignorantly their aid, 
 while the preparations proceeded for their 
 own future instruction, and national regene- 
 ration. Thus, in fact, their wild and uncer- 
 tain passions were held in check by the hand 
 of providential wisdom, until Christianity 
 passed through to their hearts. The power 
 of knowledge, like all other power, may un- 
 doubtedly be abused ; and many a fearful 
 instance of it blackens the annals of mankind. 
 Who does not bleed in heart while he reads 
 how the aboriginal population of a hemis- 
 phere faded away before the military science 
 and fiend-like cruelty of Europeans — how 
 the charge of cavalry, and the roll of mus- 
 ketry, and the lightnings of artillery, did 
 2h 
 
850 
 
 their fatal work among masses of naked and 
 undisciplined savages, armed with clubs and 
 bone-pointed arrows? Who does not feel 
 indignant shame, when he finds such per- 
 formances adorned by history with the ap- 
 pellation of victories ? The power of know- 
 ledge may be mischievously wielded in any 
 quarter of the globe, in any condition of 
 society, and in any department of life — but 
 what good is incapable of abuse ? The same 
 metal which is indispensable to the agri- 
 culture, the arts, and the comforts of civil- 
 ized life, has been made the grand instru- 
 ment of all the horrors of war. Until the 
 use and abuse of knowledge can be proved 
 inseparable, no argument can be drawn from 
 one against the other. Until it be shown 
 that the evil is in the very use itself, nothing 
 to purpose has been done on the other side 
 of the question. That the power of know- 
 ledge is capable of beneficial application has 
 been sufficiently demonstrated. 
 
 Let us now see how the diffusion of know- 
 ledge operates on the religious interests of 
 mankind. Some natural knowledge must be 
 admitted essential to the preservation of re- 
 vealed religion. To guard her truths from 
 
351 
 
 the corruption to which all traditional know- 
 ledge is liable, it was needful, without the 
 intervention of a continuous miracle, and 
 therefore it was divinely directed, that they 
 should be deposited in written records. This 
 obviously supposes either the miraculous 
 communication of the art of letters for this 
 purpose, as some have imagined, or, what ap- 
 pears to have been the real fact, their previ- 
 ous existence. It is equally plain that a 
 general diffusion of at least a certain portion 
 of education, will have the desirable effect of 
 rendering the records of revelation generally 
 accessible. But such a portion of education 
 cannot be generally diffused (as experience 
 has shown) without ultimately awakening the 
 desire of more. Will knowledge in one de- 
 gree advance the cause of religion, and in a 
 higher degree retard it ? The very contrary 
 of this will doubtless appear in the end. To 
 start a cavil requires but little learning ; to 
 remove a seeming difficulty may sometimes 
 require sound erudition. Objections lie on 
 the surface, but truth often far below it. 
 Hence superficial knowledge, has, through 
 the obliquity of the heart, prepared many 
 for universal scepticism, and its attendant 
 
352 
 
 feebleness of mind. To grasp with vigour 
 and tenacity of thought a sufficient evidence, 
 where more cannot be attained, is character- 
 istic of masculine intelligence and profound 
 knowledge, which, of themselves, will there- 
 fore tend rather to confirm, than to embarrass, 
 the impressions of religion. The diffusion 
 of knowledge operates in another way to the 
 advancement of religion — it is mortal to her 
 enemy, superstition. It exposes, in parti- 
 cular, the absurd wickedness of combating 
 belief with tortures, and thus even in a land 
 of prevalent scepticism holds the door of 
 toleration open to the efforts of christian 
 zeal, where superstition had barred it before. 
 Accidental circumstances have caused, and 
 may cause again, some exceptions to this 
 remark, but its general truth cannot be in- 
 validated. The present subserviency of art y 
 in all her recent forms, to the diffusion of 
 religion, is too familiar to be more than al- 
 luded to here, It is indeed an instance, and 
 a truly wonderful one, of the subserviency 
 of knowledge to the cause of religion. 
 
 We see, then, that knowledge has not only 
 its pleasures, but its utility — that the dif- 
 fusion of it has been directly provided for 
 
353 
 
 by the wisdom of Divine Providence— that 
 it is capable of being rendered subservient 
 both to the temporal and religious interests 
 of mankind. 
 
 But while there are persons who erro- 
 neously imagine the diffusion of knowledge 
 hostile to human welfare, there are others 
 who err on the opposite side. In the opinion 
 of these, knowledge is to be the panacea 
 and palladium of the world— in order to 
 effect a universal regeneration upon earth 
 we have only to fill all the channels of hu- 
 man communication with her vivifying tides. 
 If others believe general education super- 
 fluous, they believe it to be the one thing 
 needful. If others think knowledge hostile 
 to religion, they think religion hostile to 
 knowledge. This is a branch of the pre- 
 sent subject surely well-deserving our atten- 
 tion. With respect to the former branch of 
 it, possibly it may have appeared to some 
 that in sucli a province of inquiry a less 
 protracted stay would have been more con- 
 sistent with the office of him who -has now 
 the honour of addressing you. When the 
 importance of the subject is d ply considered, 
 such a feeling will vanish, If, however, I 
 2 H 
 
354 
 
 have travelled farther than was needful into 
 your ground, the only indemnification I can 
 offer on this occasion is to bring you a little 
 upon mine — where, I doubt not, you will favour 
 me with the same indulgent attention which 
 has hitherto accompanied me, owing to the 
 intrinsic dignity of the subject which an 
 introduction to your annual labours must 
 suggest, rather than to any observations of 
 mine. 
 
 That religion is not hostile to knowledge 
 may be shown without much difficulty. The 
 sacred has been justly styled a literary order. 
 In the darkest and most barbarian times a 
 portion of education, however small, is ob- 
 viously required by the nature of a pro- 
 fession retaining even the shadow of a chris- 
 tian ministry. In every country where such 
 a profession prevails, it will afford a rallying 
 point for advancing, and a refuge for de- 
 clining literature. Such has actually been 
 the case. Even in the notorious middle ages, 
 when a cloud of ignorance and error in every 
 department of thought lay dense upon the 
 human mind, a glimmering of intellectual 
 light still lingered on the clerical order. 
 Much as they added to the religious darkness 
 
855 
 
 of that period, they saved literature from a 
 total eclipse. Bat for them the efforts of 
 mind must have commenced again, when- 
 ever they commenced, altogether ah initio, 
 with scarce any aid from the acquirements 
 of former generations. Their libraries were 
 the depositories of ancient science and of 
 classic lore, of whose value they knew so 
 much as admonished them to preserve, al- 
 though not to employ ^ie deposit. The 
 clergy of the Reformation we know were 
 peculiarly the patrons and promoters of learn- 
 ing — convinced of its applicability to the 
 cause of Christianity and of man. The glory 
 of their literary labours yet shines on many 
 a department of knowledge, besides that 
 which was more immediately their own. In 
 subsequent times the same truth has been 
 abundantly, and in our own day signally, 
 illustrated. When generations yet unborn 
 shall ask in distant lands, who fixed the 
 principles of our once barbarous and un- 
 settled language, reduced it to system and 
 to writing, and poured to us, through its 
 improvement, a participation in the learning 
 of a polished age — it shall be replied, the 
 man of God who came from Britain to brins* 
 
356 
 
 Christianity to our shores, with civilization, 
 and knowledge, and prosperity, in her train. 
 The Christian Missionary of our day has 
 created the literature of nations — has given 
 them the first impulse of a progress which 
 shall finally terminate only with the termi- 
 nating world. You will pardon the expres- 
 sion of an exultation in which I trust you 
 feel a share. 
 
 The influence *of : personal religion has 
 something in it which tends to expand the 
 intellect. It furnishes new and all-important 
 matter of reflection. Every man has indeed 
 some subject interesting to him, but it is not 
 always an enlarged or exalted one, such as is 
 fitted to exalt and enlarge the mind. Such a 
 subjectreligion furnishes. Thehighest relations 
 and eternal destinies of man — the outlined 
 realities of invisible worlds and superior 
 being — the attributes, the counsels, the mani- 
 festations of the Most High— these are the 
 themes presented by Religion to the con- 
 templation and reflection of her disciple. 
 What sublimer objects, what profounder sub- 
 jects, can leave their image on the mind ? 
 They exalt imagination, they exercise under- 
 standing, while they perform their primary 
 
357 
 
 office of purifying the heart. Hence we 
 are all familiar with the frequency of in- 
 stances wherein ordinary minds, touched by 
 the influence of religion, have broken out 
 into an intellectual display which has aston- 
 ished the persons previously best acquainted 
 with their character. You have not im- 
 probably witnessed even more remarkable ex- 
 amples of what I have affirmed. You have 
 seen those who, clodlike, lay inactive in a 
 mental wilderness, but were awakened by 
 the creative impulse of religion to a life of 
 intelligence of which you had deemed them 
 incapable before. They were born again 
 in an intellectual scarcely less than in a 
 moral sense. Their long torpid faculties 
 were roused by a subject calculated to elevate 
 and task them to the uttermost, and in which 
 a deep interest was felt. And because the 
 subject of religion is one which extends 
 farther, and deeper, and higher, than the 
 most gifted mind can follow, she has an ex- 
 pansive influence in store for the loftiest 
 modifications of human intelligence. Her 
 truths are more sublime than the discoveries 
 of science ; her revelations are more beautiful 
 than the forms of fiction. The truth of these 
 
358 
 
 observations does not depend on admission 
 of her authority. Where that is rejected, 
 what I now contend for must be, and has 
 been, acknowledged by every one retaining* 
 a particle of candour. 
 
 Natural theology, as it is called, affords a 
 noble and profound subject of thought; as 
 the deeply philosophical treatises to which 
 it has given rise, abundantly prove. In 
 these, demonstration in many cases, and, in 
 others, evidence approximating to it, is 
 generally allowed to have been attained. 
 What more can be said of the mathematical 
 philosophy of Newton ? Now whatever there 
 is of sublime, of beautiful, of profound, in 
 natural theology, belongs in substance, pe- 
 culiarly belongs, to revealed religion- — not 
 only because it forms the substratum of her 
 doctrines, but because the discovery of it 
 is chiefly, if not wholly due, to her com- 
 munications. It is an authenticated and 
 familiar fact, that the highest efforts of hu- 
 man mind before the publication of Chris- 
 tianity, failed to reason out the system of 
 natural religion. The Memoirs of Socrates, 
 the Works of Plato and of Cicero, will ever 
 remain monuments of this truth, even al- 
 
359 
 
 though we grant that every thing which they 
 inculcated was wholly their own, and no 
 borrowed light had been caught by them 
 from the Hebrew Revelation. There is 
 another fact not less worthy of mention here. 
 Not only the oracles of superstition ceased 
 at the promulgation of Christianity, but, in 
 some sense, the oracles of philosophy be- 
 came silent too. As Christianity became 
 known, the system of natural religion was 
 disclosed in her records ; and nothing re- 
 mained for right reason to do but to assent, 
 and confirm with her demonstrations ; nor 
 could perverted reason offer another system 
 of national religion in its place, but in op- 
 posing it was driven to the sad necessity of 
 denying the existence of any. This is a 
 circumstance deeply worthy of consideration. 
 The nature of Deity and the future destiny 
 of man were favorite subjects of speculation 
 in the philosophic schools of antiquity. Why 
 do we hear nothing of them now but what 
 is borrowed from the scriptures? The enemy 
 of revelation finds his principal refuge in 
 scepticism, excluded as he thus is from the 
 ground of theological speculation. All this 
 amounts to a tacit admission that Revelation, 
 
360 
 
 in unfolding the right system of natural re- 
 ligion, has supplied the unknown truth pur- 
 sued by philosophy in vain. These things, 
 you hardly need to be reminded, are not 
 referred to at present as evidences of the 
 divine original of Christianity, (although con- 
 sidered in that view they amount to strong 
 corroboration), but simply for the sake of 
 showing, what I trust they fully shew, that 
 revealed religion is not hostile to natural 
 knowledge, but has illustrated, I might have 
 said supplied, its loftiest department — one 
 fully adequate to employ the longest life and 
 the most powerful understanding. 
 
 I am here reminded of the opinion left on 
 record by the celebrated Sir William Jones, 
 (than whom none was ever better qualified 
 to pronounce one), on the character of the 
 Scriptures considered simply as a com- 
 position — that they contain finer strains of 
 eloquence and poetry, more important history, 
 and purer morality, than can be found within 
 the compass of any other volume. If this 
 opinion be just, they cannot surely be hostile 
 to literature in any one of those departments 
 — and what has Sir William Jones expressed 
 on the subject, but what every reader of 
 
361 
 
 taste and information has felt I The Scriptures, 
 then, not only embody the system of natural 
 religion, but they also contain other ft mines 
 of unalloyed and stainless thought." 
 
 The various evidences of their inspiration 
 open a boundless field of thought, where 
 something new has from time to time been 
 gathered, even to the present age. The evi- 
 dence from miracle alone has employed, and 
 may yet employ, the most extensive eru- 
 dition and the soundest ability. The pro- 
 phetical evidence may still admit perhaps 
 of happier elucidation, so far as it has ac- 
 tually been accumulated; and it is one which 
 will go on to accumulate, as has been al- 
 ready hinted. I may here perhaps be per- 
 mitted, without imputed presumption, to 
 state, that even in some of the best works 
 on this subject which have hitherto appeared, 
 a very important principle has not been uni- 
 formly kept in view. The force of the 
 evidence for the divine authority of Reve- 
 lation, that arises out of accomplished pro- 
 phecy, consists principally in the nature of 
 the things predicted, and accomplished, being 
 such as to render human foreknowledge of 
 them impossible. For example — considering 
 2i 
 
362 
 
 the observed tendency of all earthly grandeur 
 and power to decay, we must concede the 
 possibility of the fall of Babylon having been 
 conjectured beforehand by unaided natural 
 sagacity. But not only the general fact 
 has been foretold — minute particulars attend- 
 ing it, which no human eye could foresee, 
 have been enumerated in the strains of the 
 prophet, and afterwards minutely realized. 
 To magnify the fulfilled prediction of the 
 general fact, as of itself an evidence of in- 
 spiration, (which many have done) may there- 
 fore be regarded as ill-judged ; yet the real 
 force of the evidence remains unimpaired, 
 for the prediction of particulars, in which 
 it mainly consists, rendered obviously ne- 
 cessary the prediction of the fact from which 
 they derive their importance. The internal 
 evidence involves all that can be needful to 
 call forth the exercise of the most philo- 
 sophical intellect — the unrivalled excellence 
 of the ethical system of Scripture, both in 
 its fundamental principles and in its details — 
 the harmony of its doctrines among them- 
 selves, and with the grand facts of human 
 history, and with the unbiassed deductions 
 of reason. The auxiliar evidences form a 
 
363 
 
 scarcely less interesting department, which 
 has even in our own age been enlarged, 
 and will, not improbably, be enlarged yet 
 further. Is religion hostile to the exercise 
 of mind, who lays such materials of thought 
 on the very threshhold of her temple I 
 
 As we proceed onward to her inner sanc- 
 tuary — to the essential truths of the Christian 
 system, considered in themselves, and in 
 their mutual connection — we still find occa- 
 sion of exercise for the intellectual powers. 
 A well-known sceptical writer has styled the 
 followers of Christianity " a philosophical 
 sect" — which proves the truth of the asser- 
 tion I have just made, as far as the confession 
 of an enemy, and that no ordinary one, can 
 prove it. Yon are aware of the importance 
 attributed in the New Testament, and by all 
 its disciples, to a clear view of its doc- 
 trines — but a clear view of these must imply, 
 among other things, some previous exercise 
 of the thinking faculty. 
 
 Even these brief remarks, I trust, are 
 enough to show that religion is favourable 
 to the cause of learning. A more difficult 
 task remains to be accomplished — not more 
 difficult in itself indeed, but in relation to 
 
364 
 
 the prejudices usually opposing its success 
 — that is the task of proving a coincident 
 diffusion of religion essential to the good 
 effects of a general diffusion of knowledge. 
 
 You will recollect that in meeting ob- 
 jections against the diffusion of knowledge, 
 it was attempted only to prove that know- 
 ledge may be employed as an instrument 
 of good, while it was admitted that it may 
 also be employed as an instrument of evil. 
 Now the use which will be made of the 
 power of knowledge must plainly depend on 
 the moral principles by which its possessor 
 is actuated. How nobly was it employed 
 by him whose personal fame justly outshines 
 all the splendour which wealth and lineage 
 have elsewhere shed on the name of Howard ! 
 In him philanthrophy was a system and a 
 science. Benevolence and piety taught him 
 their plans, and girded him for their accom- 
 plishment. The victims of a misery over- 
 looked by every eye but his own and that of 
 God, blessed, and shall have reason to bless 
 his name, while such forms of misery exist. 
 Look at an opposite example in him miscalled 
 the great, since he cannot be called the good, 
 Napoleon. All the highways of Europe, 
 
365 
 
 except our own, covered with the carnage 
 of his thousand battles, have given tremen- 
 dous attestation to the influence of that evil 
 mind, and its self-taught system of slaughter. 
 These, indeed, are examples in extreme on 
 either side. Every good man cannot hope 
 to be a Howard, nor every bad man aspire 
 to be a Napoleon. But such examples more 
 strikingly illustrate a truth presented to us 
 by the observation of every day, that know- 
 ledge will be either used or abused accord- 
 ing to the moral principjes of its possessor. 
 
 The dissemination of what is called ethical 
 knowledge in company with general infor- 
 mation is indeed rarely objected against— 
 but this, I venture to contend, will never be 
 enough, unaided by the authority and sanc- 
 tions of religion. The law of passion has 
 her sanctions, in the base enjoyment of gra- 
 tification and the uneasiness attending self- 
 denial. If moral truth be devoid of all 
 sanction but its utility, it will combat with 
 passion on unequal terms. Let all human 
 eloquence and wisdom be employed in lec- 
 turing a vicious population on the truths of 
 mere morality — and they will scarcely re- 
 claim an individual. This is the office of 
 
366 
 
 religion, and no other can perform it. Put 
 the power of knowledge into the hands of 
 the multitude, while the principle of religion 
 is absent from their hearts, and you put a 
 terrible weapon into the grasp of a maniac. 
 The experience of the world has given awful 
 proof of this. In the late history of a 
 neighbouring nation, you behold the de- 
 veloped effects of knowledge diffused with- 
 out religion. Those effects are not all re- 
 corded^ — they are still in course. They may 
 be traced down to the present day, but they 
 will extend beyond it. The principles which 
 produced them are still at work, and the 
 mysterious contagion of the moral plague has 
 passed into other lands from that of its na- 
 tivity. What the result will be, omniscience 
 only can foreknow — the Christian can leave 
 it with calm confidence in his hands who is 
 able to draw final good even out of the 
 depths of human guilt and calamity ; but 
 thus much may boldly be pronounced, that 
 the immediate result can only be secured to 
 the side of human happiness by the wide 
 diffusion of religion. We may be told of 
 the discords of religious sects, and of the po- 
 litical animosities to which they have given 
 
367 
 
 rise ; but such things belong to the abuse of 
 religion — they have wholly originated in the 
 corruption, in the absence, of religion. 
 They are fast passing away, but the fact re- 
 mains, and ever shall remain, undeniable, that 
 while superstition has uniformly degraded 
 the moral character, and philosophy has 
 failed to elevate it in any one community, 
 Christianity, even on the admission of ene- 
 mies, has done, and is still doing, this. Let 
 knowledge and religion, then, go hand-in-haxid 
 over the earth, and blessings shall mark their 
 united career. Let the strength of the one 
 be directed by the wisdom of the other. 
 Religion without knowledge is deprived of 
 an ally ; but knowledge without religion is 
 blind. God hath joined them together — let 
 not man attempt their separation. May I 
 not be allowed to add, even on this occasion, 
 that if there be (as impartial reason has 
 owned) eternal interests of man, religion, 
 revealed religion, is indispensable to these. 
 A light like that she throws on our prospect 
 beyond the tomb, can be supplied from no 
 
 other source. 
 
 FINIS. 
 
 DECK, PRINTER, IPSWICH. 
 
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