668A68"°° Soo^Bsn E 450 • P62 Copy i \ I - — & DISCOURSE THE COVENANT WITH JUDAS S / By JOHN PJERPONT. (5=3=- « A DISCOURSE THE COVENANT WITH JUDAS, PREACHED IN HOLLIS-STREET CHURCH, NOV. 6, 1842. By JOHN PIERPONT. BOSTON: CHARLES C. LITTLE AND JAMES BROWN. 1842. ."R £e as ( - NOTE. That part of this Discourse, which was preached in the morning, was fully written out ; and is printed as it was delivered. The part, preached in the afternoon, was delivered chiefly from notes ; and though, in preparing it for the press, I have followed, as closely as I could, the train of thought and argument, I pretend not to give the language as spoken. J. P. - DISCOURSE. Matthew xxvi. 15. They covenanted with him for thirty pieces of silver. It is not my object, in the present discourse, to treat of, or attempt to measure, the guilt of that unworthy disciple of the Lord Jesus, whose covenant to betray Ms Master, as well as the consideration of that covenant, is stated in these words. Nor yet do I propose to inquire what could have been the motive of a disciple who, like Judas, had had a more than ordinary trust reposed in him by his Master and his feUow disciples, to prove false to that trust, and deliver him by whom he had been treated with such confidence, into the hands of those who were seeking his life. But I take, rather, this statement of a particular covenant, to do an act of acknowledged baseness and iniquity, as an occasion of considering the general question of the binding force or obliga- tion of all agreements, contracts, promises, vows or oaths, to do that which is a violation of natural right, and which, were there no such solemn engagement, would be acknowledged to be wrong. This subject appears to me to be especially pertinent to the present occasion, when, at the Communion table, we are called to commemorate the death of one man, who was given up, or betrayed to those who were hunting after his life, bv virtue of a \ » covenant that he should be thus betrayed ; and when, at the same time, our city is moved by the spectacle of another man, that is to be give'n up or betrayed to perpetual and hopeless bondage, if not to a cruel death, by virtue of a covenant that he shall be thus betrayed. The essential morality of these two covenants is the same. The one was a covenant to give up an innocent man to death, in consideration of thirty pieces of silver. The other is a covenant to give up an innocent man to a bondage worse than death, in consideration of certain real or supposed political advantages, from which the covenanting parties expect to make more than thirty pieces of silver. Thus we see that, although there may be some difference in the consideration of the two covenants, by which, in one case the life, and, in the other the liberty of a man is to be sacrificed, the essential morality in both cases is < precisely the same : both of them being to do an act which is a violation of a natural right ; in the one case the natural right of a man to his life ; and in the other, Iris natural right to his liberty. And, as every violation of a right is a wrong, a sin, a transgres- sion of the moral law of God, each of these covenants comes, alike, under the cognizance of the Christian teacher, whose province it is to lift up his voice against wrong — ' to show his people their sins,' as a means of effecting the great work for which God, having raised up Ins son Jesus, sent him to bless us, by by turning every one of us away from his iniquities. And I deem such a subject of discourse, — useful as it must be at all times, — especially seasonable, at a time when the consequences of a \ covenant to do a wrong are brought so forcibly and so formidably before us as they are in the case already alluded to ; — and I deem no day too holy — no Christian rites too . sacred — to have this great question of Christian — nay, of universal — morality, thought of and spoken of, in connexion with it' This morning, then, I propose to take up and consider the general question of the obligation, or binding force, in the forum of conscience, and at the bar of God, of all covenants, engage- ments, compacts, vows, promises or oaths, to do that, which, without such oath, promise or covenant, is confessedly wrong : — and, in the afternoon I propose to apply the general principle at which we may arrive, to several cases of oaths or covenants of this kind, winch occur in the sacred history ; and especially to the case now occurring in this community, of a fugitive slave, now in a Massachusetts prison, by order or direction of a citizen of Virginia, who claims him as his property. The idea seems to have prevailed, in all nations, and ages that vows, or promises made with the solemnity of a direct invocation of the name of the Supreme Power, and under the penal sanc- tions of religion, impose an extraordinary obligation ; and the opinion has been widely extended that such vows cannot, under any circumstances, be broken, without incurring guilt, of peculiar enormity, and deserving a corresponding severity of punishment. To the diligent reader of the sacred volume, especially, cases of vows will occur, which seem to have involved the parties making them in great embarrassment, and to have been, to them or to others, the occasion of guilt or suffering, which way soever the person making them might turn himself. The vow of Jephtha, that he would offer, as a burnt offering unto the Lord, whatso- ever should come forth from the doors of his house to meet him, returning in peace from the slaughter of the children of Am- nion ;* — that of the Jews residing in 'Egypt in the days of Jere- miah, that they would burn incense to the queen of heaven and pour out drink offerings unto her ;t — that of Herod, who prom- ised with an oath, to the daughter of Herodias, that he would give her whatsoever she should ask, even to the half of his * Judges xi. 30, 31. t Jeremiah xliv. 17, 25. 8 kingdom;* — that of the Jews, who bound thomsfilves with an Dath, that they would neither eat nor drink till they had slain Paul ;t — and the promise or covenant of Judas, that he would betray his Master to those who were thirsting for his blood,$ — all prove to us that oaths, or solemn obligations, to do that which is either of questionable right, or of unquestionable wrong, are not things of recent origin : — and when the same diligent reader of the sacred oracles finds, among those oracles, language like the following, — ' If a man vow a vow unto the Lord, or swear an oath to bind his soul with a bond, he shall not break his word ; he shall do according to all that proceedeth out of his mouth' § — 'Thou shalt perform unto the Lord thy vows 'II — ' He shall dwell on thy holy hill ' — ' who sweareth to his own hurt and changeth not'H — it is not very wonderful, that questions, relating to the binding force of such vows, should be regarded as those that are attended with difficulty, or as those that are worthy of serious consideration, and of public discussion by such as come up into the house of God with an earnest desire to know what is his will, and how they may practically conform them- selves to it. Of all the various forms of engagement which I have named, an oath is probably regarded as the most solemn and binding. Let us first see, then, what is the obligation of an oath to do wrong : for if that is not binding, it will probably be admitted that no other engagement can be. An oath, or a vow, may be defined to be a promise, made with the solemnities and sanctions of religion, to do, or not to do a specific thing. The question is, What obligation is created, and imposed by such a promise ? This question, it is obvious, cannot be an- swered without first asking, what are the obligations under * Matthew xiv. 8. t Acts xxiii. 12, 14, 21. % Matt. xxvi. 15. § Numbers xxx. 2. II Matthew v. 33. 1 Psalms xv. 1. 4. 9 which the promising party previously lay, to do, or not to do the thing that he lias sworn : and, in as much as our obligations, or duties, result altogether from the relations in which we stand to other beings, some of which relations We voluntarily take upon ourselves, and others arc cast upon us without bur act, or the consent of our own will, there is, in every case of this nature, a question still antecedent to that of our duties or obli- gations — viz : What are the relations in which we stand to other beings ? Now all those relations that arc cast upon us, or in which we find ourselves placed without our own act or choice, bring with themselves their specific duties, which we may no more refuse to perform, than we may refuse to stand in the rela- tions, out of which they grow. The filial relation, or the relation of a child to a parent, is of this class : so also the fraternal rela- tion, or the relation of brother and sister, in the family. It does not depend upon my will, act or choice, whether I will be the child of my parents, or the brother of their other children. I may not say, I am their child, or their brother no longer : and, as I cannot withdraw myself from either of these relations, I can- not withdraw myself, without guilt, from those duties which God has inseparably connected with them. By the high ordinances of the Most High, I am bound to these, his creatures, by a chain which I cannot break and cannot tlnow off. By this chain I am bound to show obedience to my parents, in my childhood, in respect to every command wliich they have a right to give me, a in I to show them reverence and an affectionate deference, so long as they live. Now, what if I make a vow unto the Lord, that I ici/l thus Ileal my parents? Cs any new obligation created, any addition- al forc< given to the pre-existing obligation thai was upon me to obe) or revere my parents ? Most obviously not. Th< com- mand of God, that I should honor my father and my mother, 10 was anterior to my vow that I would honor them. The precept, ' Children, obey your parents/ was anterior, and the reason of that precept, ' for this is right,' has existed, as long as the relation of parent and child has existed among the creatures of God. No new weight is given to the obligation by my vow ; for it was upon me before, with all the weight that Divine authority could give it ; and its weight, therefore, cannot be enhanced. If, indeed, I distrust my own resolutions to discharge my duties to my parents, or if I have been so inconsiderate, or so thankless, as to make no such resolutions, I may, perhaps, in the secrecy of my own mind, or under the solemnities of a public oath, promise that I will hereafter perform the duties that I have heretofore neglected. But, in such a case, my vow creates no new obligation. I may use it, as I may use any other means of virtue, — the example, or the exhortations, or the rebukes of others, or the suggestions of my own conscience, or a fearful looking for of judgement, — to break in upon my habitual thoughtlessness, or to give strength to my weak resolutions, and to help me thus to do what, without my vow, I ought to have done ; and what, shonld I continue to neglect it, I shall suffer for not doing. It is upon this ground that, as members of a Christian church, we covenant with each other that, at certain times, or under certain circumstances, we will unite in commemorating the love, life and death of our Saviour, Jesus Christ, in the rite of ' the Lord's supper.' Our obligation to cherish a reverent and grateful remembrance of Him who has given us an immortal hope, and is calling us to glory in calling us to virtue, is not created — is not, in the least, affected by this our covenant. That obligation is contemporaneous with our relation to Jesus as his disciples. It grows out of that relation, and must last as long as the relation itself lasts. By our covenant we may strengthen our purposes of meeting this obligation, and, so far as it can ever be discharged, of 11 discharging it. And that may be a good reason for onr entering into the church covenant. It may help us meet an old obliga- tion, but it creates no new one. The Temperance Fledge stands upon precisely the same ground. It lays me under no new obligation, though it may help me to discharge an old one ; for the obligation to ' live soberly, in the present evil world,' has lain upon me, from the first, and will do so to the last day of my life. I did not voluntarily assume the obligation. It was cast upon me by the Maker of my frame, and I cannot cast it off Experience shows that the pledge, which is of the nature of a vow, or oath, has, in multitudes of cases, been one, among the means of redeeming the poor slave of an evil habit from his thraldom ; and if he breaks it after having taken it, he adds sin to sin, and thus doubly wrongs his own soul ; but, neither by subscribing a pledge does he bind himself to be temperate, nor by erasing his name, does he loose himself from the cords with which the hand of God has bound him. My vow, in short, may help my virtue, but does not- strengthen, or in the least degree affect, my obligation. There is another class of relations, which are voluntarily assumed or entered into, and which, under certain circumstances, may be assumed or declined, according to the choice or pleasure of the individual. The conjugal relation is of this kind. As a general rule, it is a duty, at a proper season, to enter hito this relation. But there are many exceptions to this general rule. The case of Paul, not to press the higher one of Iris Master, was of this character ; and there arc, in all ages and countries, other cases, in which a person is free to marry or not to many, according to his convictions of duty or propriety, the circumstan- ces of his particular case being duly considered ; in other words, in which he may innocently marry or not, as he shall choose. But, having once determined to marry, and having entered into 12 the conjugal relation, he is not free to choose whether he will discharge or neglect the duties of that relation. He is then bound; — bound, not by his inarriage vows, or by any vow after his marriage, but bound by the very nature of the relation into which he has chosen to enter. Having put on the relation of husband, he cannot, at his pleasure, put on or put off the obliga- tions which belong to the character, that he has assumed. So long as he stands in that relation, he is a debtor to it, and must perform his relative duties as faithfully, and by refusing to per- form them he incurs as deep a stain of guilt, as if the relation had been cast upon him by the act of God, without his own co-operation or consent. So, too, from the moment that one stands in the relation of parent, although, to a certain extent, that relation may have been voluntarily assumed, the person standing in it is under bonds which can be neither strengthened nor weakened by any vow, to meet the claims of duty that are urged upon the parent's heart, by the voice of the child, and by the voice of conscience, and of God, that comes with the child, to ensure for its helpless- ness defence, and instruction for it in its ignorance. And, to all the other creatures of God, that fall within the compass of our influence or regards, we hold certain specific relations, every one of which has duties or obligations connected with it, varying in then nature so as to correspond, in every instance, with the rela- tion from which they spring, and alike above and beyond the control of him who is bound by them : — a truth intimated by the force of the veiy language used in treating of oligations : — for is it not absurd to say of a man that he is hound, by a cord that he can tie or untie at his pleasure ? To the Author of our being we are all related, as his creatures, his children, his subjects, his dependants. These various rela- tions, existing from the first, and enduring to the last moment that * 13 we exist, are the source of obligations equally enduring; and as these relations are cast upon us absolutely, without our own co-operation or choice, so the duties or obligations thai result from them are absolute and beyond our control. To our constant. Benefactor we owe gratitude for the past and trust for the time to come: — to our Supreme Ruler, allegiance which cannot be withheld without sin. And these, our obligations to be thankful and obedient, we cannot strengthen — we can give them no new force — by any vow, that we arill thank and obey him. His own irrefragable bonds arc upon us, from the first moment that we knew him, and were acquainted with the relations in which we stand to him, and in which he stands to us; and we can make those bonds no stronger by any labors of our own, though we lift up our weak hands, in oaths or imprecations, at the horns of his altar, or at the footstool of his throne. Here, indeed, as in cases already stated, we may seek help for the infirmity of our own pur- poses of obedience, in vows or oaths that we will obey ; we may awaken our dormant gratitude, by solemn engagements in his presence that we will, in all things, render him the thanks that are due for his benefits, and the obedience due to him as our Sovereign, for the wisdom and perfectness of his laws. But, by these our vows, we affect not our obligations. We assume, no new ones, and we discharge no old ones. True, we may perform our vows ; and, when we vow unto the Lord, we should perform our vows : but, in no such case does the vow give to God a new claim upon our hearts or our efforts, nor docs it lay us under any new obligation. Those claims grow out of God's benefits, and are as constant as the blessings from which they spring. Those obligations already exist, and arc as strong as is the right hand that is stretched out to uphold us. We are, moreover, in a strictly literal sense, related to our- selves; in as much as our own moral conduct, in all its bearings — K 14 and consequences, is, by the unchanging principles of our own constitution, and of God's moral government, brought back, or re-fated to ourselves. Our moral condition, or the state of our moral feelings, has constant reference, or relation to our moral acts, so far as we have, ourselves, been the subjects of them. In perfect harmony with this constitution of our nature, the Great Being who thus constituted it, having a desire to the work of his hand, and a regard for its well being, has given us com- mands, or laid us under obligations, to do nothing to ourselves by which our own well being shall be endangered or destroyed. By his ordinances he has hedged us in, upon the right and left, that we stray not from our own peace. He has laid us under obliga- tion, — and that without consulting us, or asking our consent to live soberly, temperately, purely, regarding ourselves as the servants of God, who are bound to minister to him with clean hands ; or as temples of God, which ought always to stand before him ' in the beauty of holiness.' Now, our obligations to be thus holy are not of our assuming. They are laid upon us by our Maker's hand, in all the weight which he sees necessary to the well balancing, and to the setting in motion, of the exquisite moral machinery by which the good of his creatures is wrought out. Our promises that we will meet and discharge these obliga- tions give them no new weight, with whatever solemnities those promises are made. No vow can draw closer the cords by which we are bound. An Almighty hand has adjusted these, and put them out of the reach of all other hands, as entirely as he has, the cords that hold the planets in their place, as they whirl in their everlasting orbits. We can add nothing to their strength, — nothing to their Scicredness, — nothing to their duration. Can we break them, then, by our word ! Can we shake them oif by our oath that we tcitt shake them off! Can we cast off the cords of the Almighty merely by swearing that we will no 15 longer follow his guidance ? — If we must answer these questions in the negative, — andean it be doubted that we must.' — aie we not furnished with a ready and conclusive answer to the question, What is the binding force, or obligation, of those vows or oaths, by winch men, in all ages, have sought to bind them- selves, to a violation or breach of the laws of God? — The government of God is not one which we have ordained, each for himself, and winch, therefore, each for himself can annul or throw off at his pleasure. We are not free to choose whether we will come under, or remain under his laws, or not. As we did not enact, we cannot repeal them ; as we did not ordain, we cannot annul them. By his law we are bound to tell the truth, before we can bind ourselves by an oath that we will tell a falsehood. The hand of the Most High had laid us under an obligation, attended by fearful sanctions, to do our brother good, long before we thought of bmding ourselves, under penalty of a great curse, to do him evil. His obligations, then, are prior and paramount to those under which we may seek to lay ourselves, in opposition to them; — unless, indeed, we are ready to take the ground that our authority over God's laws is higher than his own. To what an absurdity, indeed, should we be reduced, — to say nothing of the tremendous anarchy, — by admitting the doctrine that a man is excusable in breaking a law of God, — nay, that he ought to break it, because he has bound himself by an oath that he will break it ! — that he may, or must, refuse to obey a commandment of the Most High, if once the oath of the Most High is upon him that he will not obey it! The whole code of the divine laws might thus be easily repealed, as to their bearing, and their binding force, upon any individual ; and he might innocently break them all, merely because he had impiously sworn that he would break them all ! By the course of our reasoning, from the ground assumed, as 16 well as by the reduction to an absurdity which comes from assum- ing an opposite ground, we are brought to this conclusion : — that all engagements, promises, covenants, vows or oaths to do a thing which is contrary to any one of the laws of God, or not to do a thing which any one of his laws requires, are utterly null, and void of binding force : — that a vow, even, to do what the law of God requires, creates no new obligation ; and therefore, for a stronger reason, an oath not to do what it requires, or to do what it forbids, annuls no obligation that existed before : — that a man, so far from being justified or excused in doing -wrong, by an oath which he has taken, that he will do wrong, is involved, by that oath in still deeper guilt, since, by that very oath, he gives evidence of acting delibe- rately and with premeditation, and adds to the sin of violating God's law, the effrontery of swearing, in the presence of God, that he will violate it. He commits one sin in taking the oath, and another and still a greater sin in keeping it. And this I there- fore venture to lay down as a general — nay, as a universal princi- ple ; that no vow or oath, to do that which is forbidden by any law of God, or not to do that which is required, is of any binding force, or imposes any obligation whatever; let the solemnities of the oath be as awful, and let the penalties imprecated with it, at the hand of cither man or God, be as severe or as fearful as they may. Before proceeding, as I proposed, to apply this great principle of morality to the several cases which occur in the sacred writings, and in the ordinary course of affairs at the present day, of vows oaths or covenants to do that which, without such engagement would be confessedly wrong; I must advert to a few passages in the Scriptures, which, at first view, seem to inculcate the doctrine that all vows are obligatory, at all events. 17 To the questions, ' Who shall abide in thy tabernacle ? "Who shall dwell in thy holy hill?' the psalmist replies, — among others, ' lie that sweareth to his own hurt, and changeth not.'* This is well; nor does it conlliet with the general principle. already established. To swear to one's own hurt docs not even imply that he sweareth in his own wrong. Where there is a good consideration (or a promise, covenant, or oath, or even where there is not a corrupt or bad consideration, a man is bound by his oath, or other engagement, even though it be to his own hurt; — to his loss of personal ease or comfort, his loss of fortune, friends, or the estimation of those whose good opinion he most values. Nay, he may give his body to be burned, rather than prove false to his oath of allegiance to his earthly sovereign, or to his Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. ' He fears to change the thing lie swears, Whatever pain or loss he bears.' But he may not even take an oath, and, for a stronger reason, he may not perform one, that is itself an act, or that binds him to do an act, in derogation of his fealty to God. Again, it is said,! ' If a man vow a vow unto the Lord, or swear an oath, to bind his soul with a bond, he shall not break his word : he shall do all that proceedeth out of his mouth.' But there is no reason to suppose that the oath, here intended, is to do an act, in itself wrong. Indeed, the contrary is implied ; for the oath in supposition is one unto the Lord, and not one against him. Besides, Moses, in immediate connexion with the text just cited, goes on to provide, in the case of oaths taken by wo- men, that if the woman be unmarried and living in her father's house, if the father disapprove the oath, it is null and void ; as it is, also, if the woman be married, and her oath be disapproved by her husband. Li each of these cases, ' not any of her vows, or * Psalms xv. 4. t Numbers xxx. 2. 3 18 of her bonds, wherewith she hath bound her soul, shall stand. 7 The Lord shall forgive her, because her father or her husband disallowed her. Can we doubt that God, the universal Father, will annul a vow that he disapproves of, when he gives a human father authority to annul a vow of which he disapproves ? Let us now look at some of the cases, that occur in the sacred histoiy, of vows to do a wrong, by violating a natural right. 1. The case of Jephtha* is of this kind ; — the case brought so near to the hearts of many of my hearers by the touching song, 'Jephtha's Daughter.' Supposing you, my friends, to be ac- quainted with the fact, in this case, I ask you, whether it is possible that the father's vow imposed upon him the slightest obligation, to oiler his daughter as a burnt offering unto the Lord. These two considerations are enough to satisfy us all that it did not, and that it could not. First, it is a principle of construc- tion, in all compacts, vows, or promises, that they must be con- strued, and if they bind, at all, that they are binding, in the sense in which the party making them intends that they should be, and supposes that they are, understood by the other party. Now, if the father, in this case, had not the daughter in his mind, when he made the vow, he must have known that the other party, who, in this case, was the ' Searcher of hearts,' could not have under- stood him to have his daughter in liis mind : — in other words, must have known that he never vowed to sacrifice his daughter. Of course he was under no obligation to do it. And, secondly, even had Jephtha, — who lived in the darkest age of Israel's history, and who, though he may have been a good fighter, was yet an illegitimate child, and, as such, was, from his boyhood, made an outcast from his father's house, and got what moral education he had, in a gang of banditti, — been so little imbued with moral science, as to have embraced his daughter in the * Judges xi. 19 scope of his vow, we know that his offering could not. have been accepted of God; first, because no sacrifice could be offered except by the priest, and thai, too, where the ark of the Lord 'was; and, secondly, because, by the laws of Moses, no human sacrifice was allowed on any terms. — (Note 1.) 2. The oath of Herod * that he would give to the daughter of Herodias whatsoever she should ask, is like the vow of Jcphlha, and was void for the same reasons. It could not be legitimately construed into a promise to do an act in itself wrong. The king could not have had the head of John the Baptist in his mind, when he made the promise, nor yet did the party to whom the promise was made so understand him. Nor, even if he had meant that particular gift, and had supposed that he was so understood, would he have laid himself under any obligation to commit the murder, that was asked at his hands. 3. The oath by which more than forty Jews bound — or sou -lit to bind — themselves, that they would neither eat nor drink till they had killed Paul,f is of a different character, in this point, namely, that the contracting parties did understand themselves perfectly, and understood that the act in view was a wrong — a violation of a man's natural, inalienable right to his life. This compact was void, for two reasons. First, because it was to violate a natural right; and, secondly, because it was, "what in law is termed a nudum pactum — a hare promise, without any consideration. 'A consideration, of some sort or other,' Bays Sir William Blackstone,t 'is so absolutely necessary to the forming of a contmrt thai a nudum pactum, oi an agreement to do or pay any thing on one side, without any compensation on the other, is totally void inlaw and a man cannot be compelled to perform it .' 4. The case brought under our notice in the text, the covenant between the chief priests, as one parly, ami Judas [scariol as the * Matthew xiv. 0— li f Acts xziii. 21 % Comraenlari U ll"> 20 other, differs in this point from all those already considered; namely, — it was not understood by either party as a religions act. like that of Jephtha ; nor was it exactly an oath, like that of Herod, or like that of the Jews conspiring to kill Paul ; nor, like this last, was it without consideration ; — for here, the considera- tion paid and received was, ' thirty pieces of silver.' But does a difference in this point make a difference in the moral character of the act covenanted for ? We have seen that a covenant or promise, with no consideration, is void. Does a consideration, worse than none, make it other than void ? ' The civilians hold,' says the great commentator upon English law, already quoted, ' that in all contracts, either express or implied, there must be something given in exchange, something that is mutual and re- ciprocal. This thing, which is the price or motive of the con- tract, we call the consideration : and it must be a thing lawful in itself, or else the contract is void.'* In fact, no principle in law is better established than this, that a corrupt or immoral considera- tion so thoroughly vitiates a contract or covenant, that, as between the parties themselves, it can never be purged. And this is law all over the world. If, in the streets of Borne or Naples, I hire an assassin to do his work, on credit, I am under no obligation to pay him when it is done. If I pay him in advance, he is under no obligation to do the work. No solemnity of form, no amount of consideration, can sanctify the compact, or make it binding upon the soul of either party. Indeed, so universally is this truth admitted, that it has passed into a proverb, that ' a bad promise is better broke than kept' If need were, the high authority of our Great Master might be appealed to, in support of the position which has been taken, and which I am endeavoring to defend in this discourse. The Saviour does not indeed mention any specific instance of a vow, * Blackstone's Commentaries, II. 444, 21 sinful in itself, and therefore void. But he takes notice of, and pointedly condemns a practice, at the bottom of which lay the same corrupt popular sentiment, which, even in our own day, has done so much to give a practical validity to vows and covenants, in themselves immoral. This was, the practice, on the part of children, of devoting to God, as a religious offering, what they ought to apply to the support of their aged and helpless parents ; thus, by their tradition, making of none effect the commands of God, ' Honor thy father and mother,' and ' Whoso curseth father or mother, let him die the death.' — (Note 2.) This is ' making thorough work.' It is going to the bottom of the whole matter. For, if I may not bind myself, by a vow, to give up even to God, i. e. if I may not, without sin, devote to pious uses, that which is my own, when, in so doing, I withhold from another, that to which he has a natural right ; much less can I, without sin, bind myself, by a covenant, vow or oath, to a condition without which the slave States would never have come into the Union Answer 1st. Then let them have stayed out. 2nd. How is that known ? — How can it be known ? Who is 31 it that has such a knowledge of the possible result of the delib- erations of such minds as were in the Convention of the fraraers of the Constitution of the United States, — deliberations held under the pressing exigencies of that period, — as to enable him to say what result could, and what could not, have been reached, without a sacrifice of moral principle? But, even if were so : — if, instead of a Convention of patriots, it had been a Conven- tion of prophets, that framed the Constitution, and those old seers had distinctly seen that, without a provision that should make the north-men slave-hunters for the South, the present Union would never have been formed : — could a worse destiny have awaited the disunited colonies, under the British crown, than to have, within the life of man, from that moment, as many human beings as then breathed American air, bound in the chains of absolute slavery; and thrice as many more, so much more degraded and debased, than the slaves themselves, as to consent to be converted into iron, and worked up into tools, — vises and hammers — to fasten on those chains ? A ruinous price docs lie pay for his civil liberty, icho, to purchase it, gives himself up the bond-slave at once of sinners and of sin ! My friends and brethren, I have supposed myself an incum- bent, for a time, of the judgement-seat, before which a fellow man is to be brought, whose condition as a freeman or a slave is to be fixed by my decision. I have given you my judgement, and stand now before you, not a magistrate, but a minister of Jesus Christ ; feeling the responsibleness that lies on me as such, to you, to my profession, to my country and to God. I have spoken, and will yet speak, freely, on this subject at this crisis : for I feel as the great statesman of our own city felt, more than twenty years ago, when standing by Plymouth rock, and, speaking of the veiy work which is now going on in the temples of jus- 32 tice and the prisons of this city — namely, the catching, chaining and dooming to hopeless slavery of our fellow men — he said, — \ I hear the sound of the hammer. I see the smoke of the furnaces, where manacles and fetters are forged for human limbs. I see the visages of those who, by stealth, and at midnight, labor in this work of hell, foul and dark as may become the artificers of such instruments of misery and torture. * * * I would in- voke those who fill the seats of justice, and all who minister at the altar, that they administer the wholesome and necessary severity of the law. I invoke the ministers of religion, that they proclaim its denunciation of these crimes, and add its solemn sanctions to the authority of human laws. If the pulpit be silent, whenever or wherever there may be a sinner, bloody with this guilt, within the hearing of its voice, that pulpit is false to its trust.'* I know that this was spoken with special reference to the foreign slave trade. But I know, too, that, foreign or domes- tic, sin is sin. I know that God's laws take, within their compass, all latitudes and all longitudes, that they sweep over all seas and all lands alike ; regarding the enslaving of a man with no more favor in Boston than in Congo; and pronouncing the panders of this sin no less guilty, when sitting on a judgement- seat, than when standing on a slaver's deck. I know that a man cannot take himself out of the hand of these laws, by swearing that they shall not hold him ; — that he cannot shake them off, by his oath that he mil; and, however it may appear to the moral vision of other men, to mine, the morality that requires and compels me to deliver up a fellow man to chains and torture — to hopeless slavery, if not to death, because others have covenanted for me that I shall do so, and because of my own oath that I will keep that covenant ; — is, essentially, the morality of a Judas, who would deliver up the Son of Man to be scourged and cruci- * Daniel Webster's Oration at Plymouth, 1S20. 33 fled, because he had covenanted to do so; — the morality of a Herod, who, ./or his oath's sake, would murder a prophet of God ; — the morality of the female fiend of the great English dramatist, who says of herself — ' I have given suck, and know How tender 't is, to love the babe that milks me : I would, while it was smiling in my face, Have pluck'd my nipple from its boneless gums, And dash'd the brains out, had I so but sworn, As you have done to this.'* I am aware that this is not popular doctrine. I know that the current of public sentiment, in the great thoroughfares of business, and along the channels of commerce, sets strongly against it. I know that in the eyes, of the many — yea, and of the mighty — the Constitution of these United States is su- preme ; — that it over-rides God's laws, and that it must stand, though they he trodden under foot. But it is the object of this discourse to lift up God's law, to make^it honorable in my hear- ers' eyes, and to make even the highest of human ordinances to do it homage. Though State may league with State, and mil- lions covenant with millions more, to sustain a wrong, they cannot hold it up. Though hand join in hand, the wicked shall not go unpunished. Even yet, ' Righteousness exalteth a nation, but sin is a reproach to any people.' I would not, indeed, reproach the noble band of patriots, who framed the Constitution of the United States. I would not wil- lingly believe that they deserve the reproach that is cast upon them by those who hold, that, into the great charter of our coun- try's freedom they covertly inwrought the charter of perpetual slavery, for themselves and their posterity. But, even if they did, — if the proof that they did were ever so overwhelming, — * Macbeth, Act I. Scene vii. 34 though I may feel myself afflicted on being compelled to ad- mit it — ' And, sad as angels, at a good man's sin, Weep to record, and blush to give it in ! ' yet, even then, that charter shall have no binding force upon my soul. If, by both the letter and the spirit of that covenant, they meant to bind me to do the slaveholder's work, and minister to his sin, I cannot forget the word of the Lord, which he spake by his servant Moses : ' Thou shalt not deliver unto his master the servant which is escaped from Ins master unto thee.'* Nor can I forget my Master's words : ' He loveth father or mother more than me, is not worthy of me ;' and I shall regard their covenant, in that particular, as utterly null and void. If, on my heavenward journey, I see even the Constitution of the United States stand- ing in my path, like the visionary ladder of the patriarch, it shall not hinder — it shall help me on my way; for I will mount up- ward by treading it under my feet. My brethren, much as we may venerate our fathers, we must venerate still more the rights of man, and his Maker's laws. Though we may reverently cherish their memory, and jealously guard their fame, we must not forget that there is One, whose authority is liigher than theirs ; and, if it be true that, in the laws which they made for us, they have required us to do any tiling, so incompatible with the commads of the Most High, that we cannot obey them both, I most seriously ask you, Which shall we obey — our dead fathers? or, our Living God? * Deuteronomy xsiii. 15. NOTES. Note 1. Pasre 19. I may, I trust, be allowed to throw into a note here, the remarks of Michaelis, in his Commentanj on the Laws of Moses, (Art. 144, 145,) touching vows in general, of the kind now under con- sideration ; and the vow of Jephtha, in particular. ' Suppose a person to make a vow to God, which involved the commission of a crime; — that he will commit adultery, for in- stance, or be guilty of regicide, of which the Polish history fur- nishes an example : — is it to be imagined that the Deity would accept such a vow? None but a miscreant or a blasphemer IT* Jv i UQ t0 „ Say S °- Illdeed ' the Vel T ^ea were horrible.' * * .But a still grosser abuse of the Cherem, (or vow to the Lord,) proceedmg from imitation of foreign and heathenish prac- tices, we shall probably find in the history of Jephtha. This brave barbarian, an illegitimate child, and without inheritance, who had, from his youth, been a robber, and was now, from bein- the leader of banditti, transformed into a general, had vowed if he conquered the Ammonites, to make a burnt offering to the Lord of whatever should first come out of his house to meet aim, on his return. His vow was so absurd, and, at the same fame, so contrary to the Mosaic law, that it could not possibly ™?« 25 T e f pted °f . God > or obligatory. For, what if a dog or anasshad first met him? Could he have offered it ? By the rtlff 8 ' n ° lmd f an b / ast could be brou § ht to ^ itar; ™IZ S T\ T S '' hU \ ° f 1 q uadr "P^s only oxen, sheep, and Mnlt . Wha lf a T n had &st met hira ? Human sacrifices ™ S had u mos * stnctl y Prohibited, and described as the abom- dnven f,°nn, W C " laamtes : ** Je P»tha, who had early been driven fiom his home, and had grown up to manhood among 36 banditti, in the land of Tob, might not know much of the laws of Moses, and probably was but a bad Lawyer, and just as bad a Theologian. The neighboring nations used human sacrifices. The Canaanites, especially, are, by Moses and other sacred wri- ters, often accused of this abominable idolatry ; of which we find still more in the Greek and Latin authors ; and possibly, therefore, Jephtha, when he made the vow, may have thought of being met not merely by a beast, but by a slave, whom, of course, he would sacrifice after the heathen* fashion. His words are, " If thou givest the Ammonites into my hands, whatever first cometh forth from my house to meet me, on my happy return from the Ammonites, shall be the Lord's, and I will bring it to him as a burnt offering." Most unfortunately, his only daughter first came out to congratulate him : and the ignorant barbarian, though extremely affected at the sight, was yet so superstitious, and so unacquainted with the religion and laws of his country, as to suppose he could not recall his vow.' Note 2. Page 21. Matthew xv. 4 — 6. Mark vii. 9—13. For the sake of pre- senting the iniquity of this practice more distinctly before the mind of the ordinary reader than it is presented by the words of the Evangelists, I subjoin the commentary of Michaelis upon their language. ' It seems that it was then not uncommon for an undutifal and degenerate son, who wanted to be rid of the burden of support- ing his parents, and, in his wrath, to turn them adrift upon the wide world, to say to his father and mother Korban, or Be that Korban (consecrated) which I should appropriate to thy support; that is, Every thing ivhcreicith I might ever aid or serve thee, and, of course, every thing, which I ought to devote to thy relief, in the days of helpless old age, I here vow unto God. A most abominable vow, indeed ! and one which God would, unquestionably, as little approve or accept as he would, a vow to commit adultery or sod- omy. And yet, some of the Pharisees pronounced on such oaths *We sacrifice slaves, even judicially, after a Christian fashion. When shall we cease to be bound by precedents from these old barbarians ! 37 this strange decision, that they were absolutely obligatory ;* and that the son, who uttered such words, was bound to abstain from contributing, in the smallest article, to the behoof of his parents ; because every thing that should have been appropriated, had become consecrated to God, and could no longer be applied to their use, without sacrilege and a breach of his vow. But on this exposition, Christ not only remarked, that it abrogated the fifth commandment, but he likewise added, as a counter doctrine, that Moses, their own legislator, had expressly declared, that the man who cursed father or mother, deserved to die. Now it is im- possible for a man to curse his parents more effectually than by a vow like this, when he interprets it with such rigor, as to pre- clude him from doing any thing in future for their benefit. It is not imprecating upon them a curse, in the common style of curses ; which but evaporate into air, because neither the devil nor the lightning is wont to be so obsequious as to obey our wishes, every time we call upon the one to take, or the other to strike dead, onr adversaries : — but it is fulfilling the curse, and making it, to all intents and purposes, effectual.' — Mich. Comm. on the Laws of Moses, Art. 293. Note 3. Page 24. A clause in the Constitution, providing that a fugitive slave shall be given up, on claim of the party to whom his service or labor may be due, certainly does not prove that, in any particular case, service is due from a slave, to the party claiming him. That, if proved at all, must be proved aliunde ; and, as we have seen, in the discourse, that nothing can be due from a slave to his holder, it follows that nothing can be proved to be due. Again, if the pursuer and claimant, here, appeals to the laws of Virginia, and the Court here should acknowledge their author- ity in Massachusetts, in order to meet the exigencies of the present case ; nay, should the claimant prove slavery to exist in *Just as the official oaths of our magistrates, to support the Constitution of the United States, with the understanding that it requires the giving up of a fugitive slave to bondage, torture, and even death, are pretty generally understood, in our day, to be obligatory. O, when shall our righteousness exceed the righteousness of the Scribes and Pharisees ! 38 Virginia, and to be recognized by her laws ; — should he go still farther, and prove that, under those laws, the man claimed was a slave, and his slave ; that is not enough to show that service or labor is due from his slave, to himself as owner. By natural law it is >jiot due. If due at all, even in Virginia, it must be made so by a declaratory act of the Virginia Legislature. Let that act be produced. Note 4. Page 27. I am aware that Mr. Christian differs in opinion, on this point, with Mr. Justice Blackstone, and Chief Justice Hobart. He conceives ' that, in no case whatever, can a Judge oppose Ins opinion and authority to the clear will and declaration of the Legislature. His province is, to interpret and obey the mandates of the supreme power of the State. And, if an act of Parlia- ment, if we could suppose such a case, should, like the edict of Herod, command all the children under a certain age to be slain, the Judge ought to resign his office, rather than be auxiliary in its execution ; but it could only be declared void by the same legislative power by which it was ordained.' But this cannot be true doctrine, especially in this country, where no one doubts the authority of the bench to declare an act of the Legislature void, for that it is against the Constitution. This, as I understand, was lately done by the Supreme Court of the United States, in regard to a part of a law of Congress, touching the very clause of the Constitution now under consideration. That part of an act of Congress was declared void, because in conflict with the Constitution of the United States, — a higher law. On the same principle, the clause of the Constitution now in question, if it must be so construed as to demand the delivering up of a fugitive slave, must be declared void, because it is clearly in conflict with a higher law, the Constitution of Man, and the law of the Supreme Power of the Universe. 39 Besides, see to what a consequence the doctrine of Mr. Chris- tian would bring us. If ' it is the province of a Judge to interpret and obey the supreme power of the State,' and that supreme power be corrupt, the Judge changes his function, at once ; and from a judicial, becomes a ministerial officer. Instead of declar- ing what the law is, he must do its bidding. Instead of sitting in judgement upon legislative acts, he becomes a tool in the hand of the legislative power; and his function is performed when he has done the legislative will ; — the boasted independence of the Judiciary is all a sham ; and there is no barrier between the despot and the subject, whether the despot be king One, or Icing Million. To be sure, Mr. Christian says that, in case the legis- lative power should enact the Herod, then, ' the Judge ought to resign his office, rather than be auxiliary to its execution.' Yes, — and give place to one that would be auxiliary ! Who doubts that a second James, on the throne, could find a second Jeffries, for the bench ? u^iit-- Oil »»- 299 2