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'T H E
W () R. K. S
O F
LEONARD WOODS, D. D.
LATELY PROFESSOR OF CHRISTIAN THEOLOGY IN THE
THEOLOGICAL SEM.INARY, ANDOWER.
IN FIW E W O L U M E S.
W O L. W.
A N D 0 W E R :
W A. R. R. E. N. F. D R A P E R .
B O S T O N : G O U L ID A. N. D L I N C O L N .
NEW YOR. K. : J O HN WILEY.
PHILADELPHIA: SMITH, EMG LISH & CO,
1863.
Entered according to Act of Congress in the year 1850, by
LEONARD WOODS, D. D.,
in the Clerk's Office of the District Court of Massachusetts.
W. F. D R A PER,
E L E C T ROTY PER AND PRINTER,
A N D OVER, M.A. S. S.
12491 2
C O N T E N T S.
w
LETTERs To YouNG MINISTERS.
Page,
Letter 1, º © © © tº o a C e © 1–7
Letter 2, ſº tº gº © Q o * C 8–21
Letter 8, tº ge {º º Ç Q * e * 21–34
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND.
Number 1. Mental acts classified; referred to mental faculties.
|Use of the words, will, volition, affection and voluntary, . 35—51
Number 2. Disposition, inclination, susceptibility, . e . 52–72
Number 3, . e © * te tº tº e º . 72—84
Number 4, . e tº * º & . 84—98
Number 5. How the affections are influenced by previous affec-
tions. e ge © e ſº & & tº tº . 98–103
REMARKS ON CAUSE AND EFFECT, IN connection witH FA-
TALISM AND FREE AGENCY, & tº * ſº * 104–148
REPLY To “INQUIRER,” © tº sº e ge 149–199
EFFICAcy of THE word of God, . gº s e tº 200–211
| 4.4095
iv. C O N T E N T S .
A SERMON ON THE DEATH OF SAMUEL ABBOT.
The duty of copying the example of believers, . C º 215–226
A SERMON DELIVERED AT THE FUNERAL of REv. SAMUEL
SPRING, D. D.
Usefulness of the ministerial office, . tº a º e ge 227–241
A SERMON ON THE DEATH of THE REv. SAMUEL WoRCESTER,
The way to acquire the character of greatness, & sº 242- -264
A SERMon on THE DEATH OF Moses BROWN.
Duty of the rich, . ſº tº sº tº { } º © 265–-279
A SERMon on THE DEATH OF JEREMIAH EVARTS.
He went about doing good, . tº º te tº * 280–298
A SERMON AT THE FUNERAL OF REv. EEENEzER Port ER,
On finishing our work, . º ſe tº © º º 299–323
$º.
A SERMON DELIVERED AT THE FUNERAL of THE REv. JoBN
HUBBARD CHURCH, D. D.
Salvation by grace, e g º o e 324–337
dy
C O N T E N T S . V
A SERMON DELIVERED AT THE FUNERAL OF MRs. PHEBE
FARRAR,
The heaven of Christians, . © º wº g 838–352
A SERMon DELIVERED AT THE or DINATION of REv.
MESSRs. NEWELL, JUDSON, NoTT, HALL AND RICE.
º
Motives to the Missionary work, . e e ſº tº 358–368
A SERMon ON THE DEATH OF HARRIET NEWELL.
On forsaking all for Christ, . * * ſº wº © 364–376
|A SERMoN DELIVERED AT THE ORDINATION OF REv. JoHN
W. ELLINGWooD AND REv. JAcob IDE, D. D.
{
Importance of meekness and gentleness in ministers, ſº 377–384
A SERMON DELIVERED AT THE ORDINATION OF REv. JoFL
HAWEs, D. D.
A minister's final account, e e e © º gº 385–394
A SERMON DELIVERED AT THE ORDINATION OF REv. ALVA
WooDs, D. D.
Ministers guarded against pride and envy, sº se 395–411
A SERMON DELIVERED AT THE ORDINATION OF REv. BEN-
JAMIN WOODBURY.
On being made all things to all men, º tº ę g 412–425
1*
Vl C O N T E N T S .
A SERMON DELIVERED AT THE INSTALLATION O& Aus. v. NA-
THANIEL HEWITT, D. D.
Importance of a minister's reputation, . © * e 426–439
A SERMon DELIVERED AT THE INSTALLATION OF REv.
THOMAS MATHER SMITH.
g
The success of ministers dependent on God, . * & 440—451
A SERMoN DELIVERED AT THE CHAPEL OF THE THEoLogi-
CAL SEMINARY.
The dependence of Christians, i.e. * tº º g 452—464
A SERMon DELIvERED IN THE CHAPEL OF THE THEOLOGI-
CAL SEMINARY.
To the pure all things are pure, . e Ç tº º 465–477
f
A SERMon DELIVERED IN THE CHAPEL OF THE THEOLOGI-
CAL SEMINARY.
Christ's absence expedient, . wº tº ge C wº 478–492
A SERMoR DELIvERED IN THE CHAPEL OF THE THEOLOGI-
CAL SEMINARY.
Influence of the cross of Christ, . tº Q e © 493–500
A SERMON DELIVERED AT THE CHAPEL of THE THEOLOGI-
CAL SEMINARY.
God is love, * g º * tº gº º sº 501–517
contents.” Wii
t
Two SERMONS DELIVERED IN THE CHAPEL of THE THEOLO-
GICAL SEM.INARY.
Sermon 1. Transcendent mercy of God in the forgiveness of
sin, * * * gº g & * dº te e 518–527
Sermon 2 Practical uses, . gº • • tº wº 528–535
f
Two SERMONS DELIvERED IN THE CHAPEL of THE THEOLO-
GICAL SEMINARY.
Sermon 1. The conversion which is of man, . © wº 536—546
Sermon 2. The conversion which is of God, . tº ſº 546—554
LETTERS TO YOUNG MINISTERS. *
L E T T E R. I.
BRETHREN AND FRIENDS,
THE subjects on which I propose to address to you several familiar
Letters, are those which are always interesting to ministers of the
gospel, and, as I conceive, specially so at the present day. I
have been particularly inclined to an undertaking like this, because
the time allotted to study in our Theological Seminary is so short,
and the field of inquiry so extensive, that every subject, even the
most important and difficult, must of necessity be passed over with
only a partial consideration. But imperfect as the acquisitions
are which students are able to make in three years, they are of
essential importance to their ultimate usefulness. And it is
among the valuable ends which are answered by a regular course
of study in our Divinity Schools, that young men are led to a
careful survey of the field which lies before them, and get a dis-
tinct view of the knowledge to be acquired and the good to be
accomplished in the sacred office.
It is indispensable to the proper usefulness of a minister, that
he should maintain a constant and lively interest in that which
appertains to his great work, and that he should aspire after the
most clear and Scriptural views of the principles of Christianity,
* First published in the Spirit of the Pilgrims, A. D. 1832.
"WOL. W. 1.
2 LETTE R S TO Y O U N G MIN IS TIE R. S.
and of the best way of teaching and defending them. His repu-
tation and success depend in a great measure on his continued
diligence in the improvement of his mind. Nothing can be more
unsuitable for any minister, especially for one just entering on the
sacred office, than to feel satisfied with his past attainments, and
to be confident of the correctness of all his opinions. On the
contrary, nothing can be more suitable for him, than frequently to
make the inquiry whether the views which he and his brethren
entertain of the doctrines and laws of Christianity, and their
methods of inculcating them upon their people, are agreeable to the
word of God. An inquiry like this should be carried into
middle life, and even into old age. For we are never to imagine
ourselves beyond the reach of error, or too old to be capable of
higher acquisitions in knowledge. Great improvement may be
made by those who have studied the Christian religion with the
best advantages, and for the longest time, and who have preached
it with the most remarkable success. Their success must indeed
imply, that they have exhibited important truths with clearness
and fidelity. But it certainly does not imply, that they are free
from error; nor does it imply, that an entire freedom from error
would not greatly increase their success. No minister then can
refer to the length of the time he has studied and preached, or to
the measure of his success, as a proof that his opinions are all
correct, or that there is no fault in his manner of preaching. And
it must certainly be looked upon as very unseemly for one, who
ought to be humbled under a sense of his deficiencies, to wrap
himself up in a fancied perfection, because God has put him into
the ministry, or made the gospel preached by him a Savor of life
unto life to many. God often sees fit to honor his sovereign
grace by employing those as ministers, and blessing their labors,
whose knowledge is very defective; whose opinions are in many
respects erroneous, and whose characters are marked with blem-
ishes. This surely is no reason why we should think it of little
consequence to strive after higher knowledge, more correct opin-
ions, and a better character; though it is evidently a reason why
we should be lowly in heart, and should remember continually,
LETTER, S T O Y O UN G MINISTER. S. 3
that the excellency of the power which gives success to the preach-
ing of the gospel, is not of man, but of God. The way then is
open for us to inquire, whether our own opinions, or the opinions
of any other ministers are true, and whether any particular modes
of preaching, ancient or modern, are conformed to the right
standard, and suited, in the highest degree, to accomplish the
great end of preaching. Religion never has been injured, and
never will be, by free inquiry, conducted on right principles, and
carried on simply for the discovery of the truth, though it has
been and may still be injured by false arguments, and by bad
passions. It may be injured, too, by silence, when we ought to
speak; or by timidity, when duty calls for boldness; or by a
slumbering confidence that all is safe, when we ought to be
awake and at our post, remembering that there are more false
opinions in the world than true, and more zeal against Christianity
than for it. *
Now when you seriously consider the errors, whether more or
less flagrant, which are advocated at the present day, especially
by ministers, you may sometimes be disposed to indulge anxious
and desponding feelings, and to say within yourselves, What will
be the end of these erratic movements of the human mind? My
own heart has been no stranger to such feelings. Looking with
lively emotions at the cause of truth, and believing that it involves
the highest interests of man, I have found it no easy matter to
maintain a quiet state of mind, when I have seen its prospects
overcast. But there are considerations adapted to secure to us
the perpetual enjoyment of inward quietness and peace. These
considerations have been of special use to me, and they may be
S0 to you.
The chief consideration is, that God is the unchangeable Friend
and supporter of the truth, and that he will sustain it, and finally
cause it to prevail. He loves the cause of truth with a strength
of affection infinitely superior to what we are capable of, and takes
an infinitely higher interest than we do, in its success. In his
unsearchable wisdom, he may indeed for a time, suffer the truth
to be obscured and suppressed, and error to triumph. But this
4. L ETTE R S T O Y O U N G MINISTER. S.
temporary triumph of error will only prepare the way for its more
signal overthrow. God doeth his pleasure among the hosts of
heaven and the inhabitants of the earth. And is he not able,
when he pleases, to confound error, and give prevalence to the
truth º Take those false opinions which are most pernicious. To
an alarming extent you see them believed and defended. Men
of learning and talent, and, in some instances, of respectable
character, are laboring, by all that is plausible and imposing in
sophistry, and by artful appeals to the unsanctified heart, to
propagate them far and wide. Now does the impious zeal and
hardihood of these men, and their temporary success, occasion
fear or disquietude 2 Think then of the omnipotence of God.
How easy it is for him to restrain the propagators of error, and to
prevent the evil they are striving to accomplish. By the agency
of his Spirit he can renew their hearts, and bring them to love
and zealously to promote what they now hate and labor to de-
stroy. Or he can so operate on the minds of others, that the
advocates of error shall lose their influence. He can so order it
in his providence, that every examination and every discussion of
the subjects in debate shall make known the darkness and deform-
ity of error, and the lustre and glory of divine truth. He can
raise up powerful defenders of the faith, whom no adversaries
shall be able to gainsay or resist. Or, if it seem good in his sight,
he can suffer error to prevail, till its evil consequences shall alarm
even its adherents, and constrain them to turn from it with shame
and abhorrence. The history of the church abounds with exam-
ples of this.
The same ground of comfort is necessary for us, and in some
respects more necessary, in regard to those errors which cleave to
the minds of Christians. Such errors excite painful emotions
within us, because they are most unnaturally associated with the
truth, and maintained by those who love the truth. But we have
reason to think that there will ere long be a remedy for all these
remaining errors of Christians. God will, we trust, impart to
them in larger measures, the influences of his Spirit, and thus give
them greater illumination of the understanding and greater
LETTER, S T O Y O U N G MINISTER. S. 5
spirituality of affection. And if he does this, the evil will quickly
be cured. For error maturally retires from that mind, in which
the light of the knowledge of divine glory clearly shines. When-
ever God shall be pleased more abundantly to pour out his Spirit
upon his ministers and people, and more fully to Sanctify their
hearts, they will at once attain to better conceptions of divine
things, and will be happily freed from a variety of mistaken or
defective views, which are sure to accompany lower degrees of
Sanctification.
You will find a Christian here and there, who is very tenacious
of his mistaken opinions. He may contend for them because he
is ambitious to be the head of a party. Or, through a misguided
conscience, he may really believe his errors to be important truths,
and so may contend for them to do God service. What shall be
said of such a case ? I reply, as to the individual himself who
thus pertinaciously maintains Wrong opinions from feelings of alm-
bition, or from religious motives, – it may be that nothing can
ever be done effectually to open his eyes, before the light of
another world shall shine upon them. And others may be associ-
ated with him, or rise up after him, who will pertinaciously adhere
to the same false motions. But the time will come, when those
false notions will be exposed and rejected. The event is certain.
Perhaps men of a more correct faith will be raised up, whose
writings or oral instructions will cast such a light on the doctrines
of divine truth, that error will be instantly seen by every one,
and renounced as soon as seen. Or God may judge it best to
let the error run, on, till its hurtful consequences shall open the
eyes of all to its deformity and mischievous tendency.
Are there any of you, them, whose hearts throb with fear, or
are oppressed with gloom, on account of the errors which prevail?
To such I would say, -remember that the Lord, who reigns over
all, is an unchangeable enemy to error; and that, however great
the subtlety with which it contrives to conceal itself, he will finally
bring it to light, and expose it to contempt. And what is more ;
he will make the temporary prevalence of error the means of
bringing his people to a more perfect knowledge and a more
1*
{j L ETT E R S T O Y O U N G MIN IS TIER. S.
*
unwavering belief of the doctrines of revelation. That he has
often dome this, the history of the church shows. And that he
will continue to do it, his promises imply. We have then solid
reason quietly to commit the cause of truth to his almighty pro-
tection, and to cheer ourselves with the assurance that he will
give it success. Long and dreary has been the time in which
error has borne sway. But the bright and glorious day will come,
in which truth shall reign through the world, and shall reign
forever. Happy are they who discover and embrace the truth,
and are active in its defence. The Lord will compass them with
his favor as with a shield. As to error, all error, whether more
or less flagrant, — we ought from our heart to be afraid of it,
and to labor with the greatest earnestness to rid ourselves of it.
For error is as really opposed to the character and will of God,
as sin is. And they who would not be partakers in the evils of
its overthrow, must not be found among its subjects or its allies.
Away, then, with every false opinion, however zealously we or
others may have contended for it, and however great the self-
denial which the renunciation of it may require. If any one of our
errors is dearer to us than others, it is just so much the more
injurious; and giving it up will be a sacrifice more acceptable to
God, and will do more to fit us for heaven.
This search for the truth and this endeavor to rid ourselves of
error, is a work which ought to be pursued with unremitting dili-
gence ; and never to be given up as long as life lasts. In the
day of adversity, and on the bed of sickness, we may still be
growing in the knowledge of divine things, and detecting and
renouncing errors which have been injurious to our spiritual inter-
est. Happy they, who, with a humble reliance upon the grace
of God, are thus intent upon the great work of curing the
disorders, and promoting the health, beauty and vigor of their
own immortal minds.
But in this momentous work, how could we proceed, and what
hope could we have of success, were we left to the mere guidance
of our own erring reason 7 In what uncertainty and error should
we have been perpetually involved, had not God granted us his
LETTER S TO Y O U N G MINISTE.R. S. 7
word to be a guide to our faith ? And in consequence of the
great ignorance that is in us because of the blindness of our
hearts, how unable should we still be to come to a right knowledge
of God’s word and to a right faith in its heavenly truths, without
the inward teaching of the Holy Spirit.” With these helps, that
is, the word and the Spirit of God, if there is a pious docility and
diligence on our part, we shall not fail of success in our inquiries
after the truth.
That the word of God is the only and sufficient rule of our
faith and practice, is the grand principle for which Protestants
have contended. This principle, universally received and acted
upon, would put an end to error and division, and would ultimately
bring all Christians to see the light and glory of divine truth.
But the right reception and use of this Protestant principle
implies much more than is commonly apprehended. It implies a
full conviction, that the Scriptures were written under the infal-
lible guidance of the Holy Spirit; that they contain truth unmixed
with error; and that they teach all which is necessary for us to
know in our present state. It demands that our great and only
inquiry should be, what did God intend to communicate to us by
these Writings; in other words, what is the meaning of the divine
testimony; and that in. determining what this meaning is, we
should be free from prejudice, distrustful of ourselves, earnestly
desirous of knowing the truth, and resolved to embrace it, how
much Soever it may oppose the prepossessions of our natural
reason or the bias of our own heart. And it requires that we
should apply ourselves, with diligence and prayer, to the business
of interpreting the Scriptures by just and proper rules.
8 LETTERS TO YOUNG MINISTERs
L E T T E R II.
PRETIIREN AND FRIENDS,
As the close of the last Letter, I stated the Protestant principle,
that the word of God is the only and sufficient rule of our faith
and practice, and endeavored to show, in part, what is implied in
rightly receiving and applying this principle.
There is one point of great importance, though often over-
looked in practice, namely; that as soon as we ascertain what
God teaches us in his word, we have come to the end of our in-
quiry — we have attained to the knowledge of the truth.
This is a principle so 'essential to believers in revelation, and
so extensive. in its influence, that I shall dwell upon it with more
than ordinary care.
Suppose, them, I am desirous of learning the truth in regard to
the duration of future punishment. Accordingly I apply myself
to the study of the Scriptures, and find a variety of passages
which represent the punishment of the wicked as endless. I am
quite sure that if the sacred writers spoke of the happiness of
the good in a manner exactly similar, no one would doubt that
they meant to teach its endless duration. But the question soon
rises in the mind, whether the everlasting misery of many of the
human race is consistent with the benevolence of God, or with the
atonement of Christ. What regard shall I pay to a question
like this in ascertaining the meaning of the Bible 7 None at all.
Suppose God had addressed me thus: This subject hath depths
which you cannot fathom. But for the glory of my justice and
holiness, and for the benefit of my eternal kingdom, it is my pur-
pose that the wicked, according to their proper desert, shall suffer
a punishment without end. Could any one doubt the fact 7 Now
God does virtually address me in this manner. He plainly teaches
this tremendous truth, although he knew all the difficulties which
would arise in our minds respecting it. These difficulties he
does not undertake to solve. He requires it as a most reasonable
LIETTER, S T O Y O UN G M IN IS TIE R. S. 9
*
thing, and a proper expression of our confidence in him, that we
should believe the doctrine which he teaches, notwithstanding its
umsearchableness, and that we should believe it to be perfectly
accordant with his infinite wisdom and goodness, though we may
be unable to see how it is so. But should not the natural horror
we feel at the thought of endless misery, and our strong desire
that it may be prevented, have an influence upon our judgment
as to the meaning of the Scriptures 7 To answer this, take
another case. Our legislators make a law, that every murderer
shall be put to death. The words of the law are plain and de-
terminate. But men in general, especially criminals, feel a natural
horror at the thought of such a punishment, and a wish that it
might not take place. Ought such a feeling to affect the sense
they put upon the law, and to lead them to say, Such cannot be
its meaning ; it is too dreadful to believe 3 Surely not. And for
the same reason, the horror we feel at the thought of the endless
punishment of impenitent sinners, and our desire that all may be
happy, cannot be permitted to have any influence upon us in
determining the sense of Scripture. We have no reason to think
that God, in making his laws and arranging things in his moral
kingdom, was influenced merely by such views and feelings as
belong to ignorant imperfect beings. But to make the Sense of
his laws conform to our views and feelings, would be in effect to
attribute our views and feelings, circumscribed, fallible, and dis-
ordered as they are, to his infinite mind. It would be saying,
that he is subject to all our weaknesses, and is no more influenced
by a regard to his own glory and the general interests of his
kingdom, then we are. It would, in short, be making God alto-
gether like ourselves. Hence our natural views and feelings as
to the propriety or the desirableness of any particular doctrine
should not influence our judgment as to the true meaning of the
revelation which God has made.
If in the instance now before us, the question should be,
whether the endless punishment of the wicked, admitted to be
a certain truth, has anything in it inconsistent with the dictates
of justice or benevolence; we might then direct our reasoning to
10 LETTER, S TO Y O U N G MINISTER. S.
that point, and might show that it is not inconsistent, and that no
valid objection lies against it. But if the truth of the doctrine
is the subject of inquiry; then we have nothing to do with the
justice or utility of endless punishment as viewed by us, but must
confine ourselves to the single question, whether the Scriptures
reveal the fact. If, without any revelation, we were able, in our
way of reasoning, to prove to our own Satisfaction the justice and
the necessity of endless punishment; still this could not be
relied upon as the foundation of a confident belief. And after
we had, by a process of general reasoning, come to the conclu-
sion, that there must be endless punishment; if the word of
God should declare against it, that conclusion of ours would
stand for nothing. On the other hand, if we were wholly unable,
by any reasoning of ours, to make out the justice or propriety of
endless punishment, or to obviate the objections urged against it;
this would be no sufficient reason why we should disbelieve it
when made known by revelation. From our imperfect wisdom
and benevolence we cannot determine what plans a God of in-
finite wisdom and benevolence will adopt, and how he will com-
pass the ends he has in view.
This then is my position. If our inquiry is whether the
wicked will in fact endure endless punishment; the testimony of
God, and that only, must be consulted ; and our understanding
of the meaning of that testimony must not be influenced, one
way or the other, by any reasoning of ours as to the consistency
of such punishment with the divine benevolence or justice. For
while we seem to be reasoning respecting divine benevolence and
justice, we are in fact reasoning respecting our own benevolence
and justice. And it is by no means certain, that those measures
of government which would agree with such imperfect benevolence
and justice as ours, would agree with the infinite benevolence and
justice of God. But after we learn from the word of God that
the punishment of the wicked will be endless; and after we
have given full credence to the fact; it may then be proper and
useful for us to attempt, with modesty and caution, to vindicate
the divine conduct from the objections of unsanctified reason,
L ETTER, S TO Y O UN G MINISTER. S. 11
and to show, as far as the case admits, that it agrees with acknowl-
edged principles of justice and benevolence.
Take another example. God declared to Abraham, that he
should have a son, and that his posterity should be as the stars
of heaven for multitude. Abraham knew it was the declaration
of God, and as such he believed it, though human reason might
have urged strong and unanswerable objections against it. His
faith rested simply upon the word of God. The only thing which
his reason had to do, was to decide, that every declaration of God
must be true, and worthy of confident belief, whatever objections
may seem to lie against it. And he suffered no objections in the
least to influence his mind as to the meaning of the divine dec-
laration. This is the main point. Our faith must rest simply upon
the divine testimony. It was this which distinguished Abraham’s
faith, and rendered him worthy of being held up as an example
to all believers in after times. He believed God. The word of
God was the basis and rule of his faith. His reason did nothing
but apprehend and believe the divine testimony.
The principle which I have now endeavored to illustrate,
would be exceedingly advantageous to ministers, as well as pri-
vate Christians. We are prone to forget the high authority of
God’s word, and to treat it with irreverence and neglect. It is
too much the fashion of the day, even among Christian ministers,
to form opinions respecting the various doctrines and duties of re-
ligion, in the way of general reasoning. And if there is an oc-
casional reference to the Scriptures, it is evident that they hold
only a secondary place, and that their decision has less influence
than the arguments suggested by human reason. In this way,
we subject ourselves to a great loss of time, and to great uncer-
tainty and perplexity on the subject of religion. We part with
an infallible guide, and take one that is fallible. We give up the
divine authority of revelation. And if by mere reasoning we
arrive at the knowledge of the truth, and then believe it merely
because our reason has discovered it; such faith is not so much
the faith of a Christian, as of a rationalist.
But it is said that reason and philosophy are necessary in Order
12 LETTERS TO YOUNG MINISTER. S.
to discover the meaning of God’s word. And to show this, the
declaration of Christ is adduced: “this is my body.” But in
this case the proper inquiries are, — What was the occasion on
which the words were spoken? What were the circumstances of
the apostles to whom they were spoken 3 What object had Christ
in view 2 What had been his manner of speaking 2 What sort
of metaphors had he been accustomed to use 3 How would his
apostles naturally understand his words? Now this is not phi-
losophizing. The apostles had no need of philosophy in order to
understand this declaration of Christ, any more than they had to
understand him, when he said, “I am the vine, ye are the
branches.” Apprehending the meaning of figurative language is
not, properly speaking, a matter of philosophical reasoning, but a
matter of common sense and feeling. If philosophy should be
applied to the declaration of Christ, “this is my body,” it must
relate to the propriety and utility of metaphorical language ; and
so must lead to an analysis of those principles of the mind which
make such language natural, and which account for its effects.
But the right understanding of metaphorical language and its
proper influence on the mind is no more dependent on any reason-
ing of this kind, than eating and digesting food is dependent on
our understanding the physiology of those parts of the body which
are particularly concerned in eating and digestion.
I do not say that philosophical reasoning on the subject of re-
ligion is in all cases to be rejected. My position is, that it cannot
be considered as necessary in determining the sense of Scripture.
And I should suppose that any one must be satisfied of this,
when he considers, that those to whom the sacred writers addressed
themselves, were not philosophers, and that if philosophy was
necessary to the right understanding of God’s word, they were
incapable of knowing the truth, and were tied down to una-
voidable ignorance and error." But neither Christ nor his apostles
* “The preacher is to make the truth of Scripture the burden of his commu-
nications to his people, because this is a message which can be easily understood.
It is brought down to the compréhension of a common religious assembly. It is
the simplicity of scriptural truth, which adapts it to all classes of hearers.” + “But
5f all modes of communication, the language of metaphysical philosophy is the
LETTE R S TO Y O UN G MINISTER. S. 13
ever represent philosophical knowledge, or a capacity for meta-
physical reasoning, to be at all necessary to those who would learn
the truths of religion. What they insist upon as necessary is, a
humble, docile, and obedient disposition, and prayer to God for
the teaching of his Spirit. “If any man will do his will, he
shall know of the doctrine.” – “If any man lack wisdom, let
him ask it of God.” Instead of giving countenance to philoso-
phizing in religion, the Sacred writers directly discountenance it.
When some inquired, “how are the dead raised ?” the Apostle
did not give them the philosophy of the resurrection. The argu-
ment he used to confute their objection was rhetorical, not philo-
sophical. He vindicated an important doctrine of revelation by
an apt analogy taken from the natural world; — as Christ illus-
trated and enforced an important duty, by referring to the fowls
of the air, and to the lilies of the field. If that reasoning which
is strictly philosophical, may ever be used on the subject of re-
ligion, it must be for the purpose of illustrating a doctrine or pre-
cept already made known, and vindicating it against objections.
In some cases, the philosophy of the mind may afford assistance
in accomplishing these objects. And those men, who carry their
habit of speculation too far, and are more in alliance with phi-
losophy than with Christianity, may sometimes have their defective
faith aided and strengthened by finding an agreement between
the principles of mental science and the doctrines of revelation.
But their faith would stand in no need of such help, if it relied,
least adapted to the understanding of an ordinary congregation. Philosophical
preaching requires a philosophical audience.”—“How is a plain man to arrive at
a knowledge of religious truth, by the refinements of metaphysical reasoning?
Suppose he makes the attempt. He has a new science to learn; a science abound-
ing in nice distinctions; requiring an analysis of the faculties and operations of
the mind; and embracing a knowledge of the relations of cause and effect,
powers and susceptibilities, motives and actions. If he looks to the pulpit for
instruction on thése subjects, he is involved in the mysteries of metaphysical
phrascology. His minister speaks to him in an unknown tongue. He finds that
he has not only a new science, but a new language to learn.”—“If metaphysical
philosophy had been necessary to salvation, it would seem that the Bible would
have given us a new metaphysical language.”
PRESIDENT DAY's Sermon on the Christian Minister's Commission
WOL. W. 2
14 LETTERS TO Y O UN G MINISTER. S.
as the faith of Abraham did, with unwavering confidence on the
word of God. Besides; those Christians who rest their faith
entirely on the divine testimony are, much more likely to have a
correct understanding of that testimony, than those who rest their
faith partly on that, and partly on the deductions of speculative
reason. And it is very easy to see which kind of faith does the
greater honor to the word and the veracity of God.”
* On the subject here under discussion, the views expressed by President Day
in the sermon before referred to are so just and seasonable, that I shall quote a
few more passages.
“The evidence of Scripture truth is the testimony of God himself. Here human
reason has no right to interfere. It is bound to stand aside and hear what God
the Lord hath said. Reason decides, indeed, and decides intuitively, that the
word of the God of truth is to be believed. It is bound to submit implicitly to
the divine declarations, whatever they may be. Here is the distinction between
faith and mere reason. The truths which God reveals to us, may or may not
accord with the opinions which we ourselves had formed. Their previous pro-
bability or improbability is, therefore, no ground on which we are to receive or
reject them, when we find them in the word of God. It is not a sound prin-
ciple of interpretation, to determine before-hand what doctrines ought to be found,
or are probably found in the Bible, and therefore to make it speak a language in
conformity with our pre-conceived opinions. The Scriptural evidence in favor of
any doctrine is wholly independent on the probability furnished by reason alone
without the aid of revelation. This evidence is the simple testimony of God. It
is neither weakened nor strengthened by any previous opinion which we had
formed on the subject revealed. The doctrines of metaphysical philosophy ought
to have no influence in determining the doctrines of the Bible. If the language
of Scripture is to be so explained, as to conform invariably to probabilities sug-
gested by reason, then it is no revelation. It makes known to us no new truths.
It can decide no controverted point. For each contending party will give the
passages referred to as proofs, the meaning which accords with its own opinions.
This is the great reason why the various denominations of Christians make,
ordinarily, no approaches towards agreement in doctrine, by discussions which
professedly refer to the Scriptures as a common rule of faith. In truth, each
party, instead of making the Scriptures the only standard of belief, makes his
own opinions, to some extent at least, the standard of Scripture. If the book of
God is to be interpreted according to pre-conceived philosophical opinions, it will
not be one Bible but many. It will be made to contain as many different systems
of doctrines, as there are different schemes of philosophy brought forward to give
a construction to its contents. It may be necessary, in interpreting the Scriptures,
to take into consideration the opinions and modes of thinking of the classes of
persons to whom they were originally addressed. The true point of inquiry is, how
did they, if they were candid, understand what was said to them. How did the
children of Israel understand Moses 3 How did the primitive Christians under-
stand Christ and his apostles 3
LETTERS TO Y QUN G MINISTERs. 15
I have extended my remarks to such a length, because I con-
ceive the point under consideration to be of primary importance,
and because I think it would conduce in a high degree to our
benefit as Christians, and to our usefulness as ministers, if we
could bring ourselves to such a habit of mind as to make it our
single inquiry, what doctrine God has revealed in his word; but
never to make the inquiry, so incompatible with the character of
Christians, whether the doctrine which God has revealed is true.
You may perhaps think it needless to dwell longer on the general
principle I have stated. But I am desirous of giving so clear an
illustration of it, that no one can fail of understanding it aright.
Let me therefore apply it to the question of Christ’s character.
This is a subject of pure revelation. Our inquiry is, what do the
Scriptures teach 7 But a difficulty arises. How can it be that
Jesus Christ is God, when there is only one God, the Father ?
What influence shall a difficulty of this kind have upon us in
determining the meaning of the divine testimony? None. Sup-
pose we are totally unable to reconcile the doctrine of Christ's
divinity with the doctrine of the divine unity. What then 7 We are
not required to reconcile them. Our business is to determine
philologically and historically what the inspired writers taught,
just as we determine what Athanasius or Arius taught. The only
difference between the two cases, which I need to notice, is this;
that the very doctrine which the inspired writers taught is the
doctrine which we are unhesitatingly to receive as true; but as to the
doctrine of Athanasius or Arius, we are to believe it or not, as we
find it supported by proper evidence. The one is directly binding
upon our faith; the other not. But the method of determining
what doctrine was taught, is substantially the same in both cases.
Now suppose you make it your object to inquire what doctrine
Athanasius taught. Would you think it proper that your views
of the consistency or inconsistency of his doctrine should influence
you in determining what his doctrine actually was 7 You would
look for the usus loquendi. You would take into view all the cir- .
cumstances of the writer, and of the time when he wrote. But
in ascertaining what doctrine he held, you certainly would not
16 LETTER, S TO Y O U N G MINISTER. S.
*
first inquire whether, agreeably to your mode of reasoning, the
doctrine was philosophically correct, and then conclude that it was
his doctrine or not, according as it agreed or disagreed with your
notions. No enlightened and impartial man ever proceeded in this
manner in determining what opinions were maintained by any
wninspired writer. And no one can with propriety proceed in
this manner in determining what doctrines were maintained by the
inspired writers. Suppose a man should release his mind, as the
German Rationalists have released theirs, from the idea that the
sacred writers were inspired, and from all sense of obligation to
believe what they taught. He could then pursue the question,
what doctrines they taught, without being embarrassed with any
reasonings about the consistency or inconsistency of those doc-
trines. So some of the most learned Rationalists have pursued it.
And so ought we. Those Rationalists have in some important
instances, decided, that the Scriptures teach the doctrines which
we hold. In this we agree with them. But we go farther, and
hold this sense of Scripture to be according to truth, and make it
the foundation and rule of our faith.
But you ask, whether in determining the meaning of the divine
declarations, we are not to have respect to the moral sentiments
and feelings which are inseparable from the constitution of human
nature. My answer is, that if in any case, we do this, it should
be with great caution. If the divine declaration is unambiguous,
and its meaning obvious, it is to be received on the ground of its
own authority, whether it agrees or not with our moral sentiments
and feelings; and for this plain reason, that our moral sentiments
and feelings may rest on defective or partial views of things. God
commanded Abraham to offer up his son Isaac as a sacrifice.
Abraham had the same moral sentiments and natural feelings as
we have. If his moral sense had been consulted, must it not have
decided, that killing a man, especially a son, would be exceed-
ingly unnatural, inhuman and wicked, and that a kind and merci-
ful God would forever disapprove of it 7 How could Abraham
then believe that God actually commanded it? Certainly he
could not, if he had formed his opinion of the meaning of the
L ETT E R S T O Y O U N G M IN IS T E R. S. 17
divine declaration in the manner above mentioned. But he had
one moral sentiment, which was paramount to all others, and con-
trolled all others; and that was, that whatever God says is right.
He knew that God commanded him to perform the deed. IIe
consulted not with flesh and blood ; he consulted not with his own
sensibilities, as a parent; he consulted not even with the senti-
ments which belonged to his moral mature respecting the evil of
slaying a man. Nor did he inquire how this command could be
consistent with the previous promise of God, or with the command
not to kill. He yielded entirely to the authority of God’s com-
mand. He had higher confidence in God’s perfections, than in
the dictates of his own moral nature ; — and he acted against all
those dictates, except that one which was superior to all others,
and which is indeed the highest moral principle proper to the
human mind, namely; that God is to be believed and obeyed. In
any such case, it is evident that an attempt to model the meaning
of God’s word according to our own speculative notions or natural
feelings would lead us far astray, and that the right meaning of
God’s word is that which readily suggests itself to the docile,
obedient, pious heart.
But after we have ascertained the doctrine of revelation, and
have received it as the matter of our faith, the question often
arises, whether such doctrine agrees with the common principles
of reasoning, or with facts which occur in the natural or moral
world. This may be a suitable inquiry, and we may sometimes
find it advantageous to pursue it with all the means in our power.
But the result of this inquiry is not to affect our belief of the
doctrine revealed. If the doctrine agrees with the common
principles of reasoning, or with known facts in the natural or
moral world ; this we shall consider a pleasing circumstance, and
one which will enable us to silence the objections of unbelievers.
This may be the case with the doctrine, taught in Rom. v.
respecting the evils which are brought upon the posterity of Adam
by means of his one offence. It is very easy to make out an
analogy between this divine constitution, and events which contin-
ually take place. But this analogy is not the ground of our faith
2*
18 LETTER S T O Y O U N G MINIS TIE R. S.
in the doctrine. For should we be wholly unable to make out any
such analogy, we should still believe the doctrine taught by the
inspired writers, simply because it is thus taught. And supposing
that to be the case, instead of attempting to do what is beyond
our power, it would become us frankly to acknowledge, that the
doctrine differs from the deductions of reason in other cases, and
has no analogy to truths otherwise made known. An acknowl-
edgment like this is as consistent with our cordial belief of a
doctrine made known by revelation, as it is with our belief of
any principle of magnetism or electricity, which has no analogy
to other principles in the science of physics. Such an acknowl-
edgment should be made by every Christian, in regard to the
Scripture doctrine of Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, and the doc-
trine of Christ's person, as including divine and human attributes.
Refusing to make this acknowledgment, and attempting to find
something among created beings which would be analogous to
this peculiar mode of existence, has occasioned needless perplex-
ity, and has done much to turn off the minds of men from the
only true ground of Christian faith, the divine testimony.
|But I have another remark, which, though it may seem very
evident, deserves a careful consideration. The Protestant princi-
ple of making the Bible our only and sufficient standard requires
that we should conform to it, both as to the matter and the manmer
of teaching.
I can best explain my meaning by an example. The Sacred
writers teach the important doctrine, that Christ made an atone-
ment for the sins of men. But in what manner do they teach
this doctrine : How do they set it forth : Sometimes they repre-
sent, that Christ died jor us ; sometimes, that he died for our
sins; sometimes, that he was a sin-offering, that he bare our sins
in his own body on the tree, and that God laid on him the iniquities
of w8 all; sometimes, that he was a propitiation for our sins,
that he redeemed us, that he reconciled us to God, etc. Now
when we teach the doctrine of the atonement, this is the kind of
representation we should make. The Scriptures use a great vari-
ety in the manner of exhibiting the subject; so should we. But
L ETTER, S TO Y O UN G. MTN IS TIE R. S. 10
how various soever the manner in which we exhibit the doctrine,
we should keep our eye upon the manner in which it is set forth
in the Scriptures, and should not only avoid whatever would be
inconsistent with that, but should make it manifest, that we derive
our conceptions of the doctrine, and our mode of teaching, from
the Bible. If we undertake to explain it, and to reason upon
it; our explanation and reasoning should be such as will corres-
pond with the current language of the inspired writers; and such
as will make it matural and congruous for us freely to quote
that language, and intermix it with our own explanations and
reasonings. In short we must make it manifest that we delight
in the Scripture representation and Scripture phraseology, and
consider it best suited to the nature of the subject; and on this
we must build all our logic, and all our rhetoric. Now turn your
thoughts to those preachers and writers who carry their fondness
for philosophical investigation into the subject of religion, and see
how they exhibit the doctrine of Christ's atonement, and then
say, whether there is any appearance of their regarding the Bible
as their only and sufficient guide. If they do so regard it, how
comes it to pass that they seldom, if ever, set forth this principle
of religion in the light in which it is set forth by the inspired
writers ? How does it happen that a doctrine, which always
appears in the Scriptures so obvious, and so full of vital warmth
and energy, comes in their hands to be so cold, and speculativo,
and lifeless, and so remote from common apprehension ?
But perhaps a question may arise in the minds of some, whether
the principle I have laid down will exactly hold at the present
day; whether the change which has taken place in the mode of
thinking, the prevalence of a new set of errors, the new systems
of education, — in a word, whether the new circumstances of
man, do not call for a change both as to the matter and manner
of religious instruction.
To this I reply: that no change has taken place, which mate-
rially affects the subject under consideration. Man’s relation to
God, to the moral law, to Christ, and to his fellow creatures,-is
the same now, as it was when the Scriptures were written. Man
20 LETTER, S T O Y O UN G MINISTER. S.
has the same faculties, dispositions, passions, appetites, – the same
deceitfulness, and selfishness, and perverseness of heart, the same
backwardness to feel and acknowledge his obligations to be holy,
the same unwillingness to forsake his sins and come to Christ, and
the same propensity to justify himself. Generally, the same false
opinions prevailed formerly, as those which prevail now. What
kind of error in regard to the subject of religion can be found at
the present day, to which there is not some reference in the
Scriptures 7 It is manifest, that not only the more flagrant errors,
but all the slighter departures from the simplicity of the gospel,
as to doctrine and practice, are more or less noticed and rebuked
by the sacred writers.
It is also true, that the Salvation provided for man, and the
way of obtaining it, are subject to no change. The repentance,
faith and obedience required, are always the same. Sinners in
all ages and circumstances have the same need of the influence
of the Holy Spirit. What Christ said to Nicodemus is as true
and important now, as it was then. The renewal of sinners is
the work of God in as high a sense at the present day, as formerly.
As therefore man's nature, relations, and dutiés, and other
circumstances, so far as religion is concerned, are always the
same ; there can be no occasion for any material change, either
in the matter or manner of religious instruction. If Christ and
his apostles were to appear among us and to teach the doctrines
and duties of religion at the present day; is there not every
reason to think that they would teach the same things, and much
in the same manner, as they did eighteen hundred years ago?
Whatever changes have taken place in the world since the days
of inspiration, there has been and can be no change, which ma-
terially affects the subject of religion; and what was true and
important in doctrine, and suitable in the manner of teaching, in
the time of Christ and the apostles, must be so now.
If we suppose it is left to our discretion what doctrines and
precepts of the Bible shall be preached at the present day, and
what omitted, or in what manner these doctrines and precepts
shall be explained and inculcated; and if we suppose that the
L ETTER, S TO Y O U N G M IN IS TIER. S. 21
word of God is not to be taken as our standard in these respects;
then we should consider ourselves at liberty, to omit in part, or
altogether, the perfect obligation of man to obey the divine law,
his depravity and ruin, the necessity of divine influence, the
sovereignty of God’s grace, justification by faith, the duty of
obedience, self-denial, forgiveness of injuries, and any other doc-
trime or duty inculcated in the Scriptures; or if we should not
wholly omit them, we should feel ourselves at liberty to receive
them, and exhibit them to others, in a very different light from
that in which the Bible exhibits them. And where should we
stop 2 What limits could be set to our deviation from the princi
ples contained in the word of God?
L E T T E R III.
BRETHREN AND FRIENDS,
IS has for years been a subject of inquiry with me, whether my
own mode of preaching, and that which is common among evan-
gelical ministers, is sufficiently Scriptural; whether, as to matter
and manner, it is conformed, as much as it should be, to that
inspired book which we profess to receive as our perfect and
infallible rule; whether we have not adopted a manner of think-
ing and of preaching, which more or less sets aside the inspired
volume; and whether in this way we do not dishonor the benevo-
lent Author of revelation, deprive our hearers of the sincere milk
of the word, and spend time and labor upon that which profiteth
not. The result of my inquiries is a serious apprehension, that
the literature of modern times, the endless variety of books which
have been written on moral and religious subjects, and which
contain a greater or less mixture of error with truth, the number-
less controversies which prevail among Christians, and the want
of a more diligent study of the Scriptures and of a larger measure
22 LETTE R S T O Y O U N G M IN IS TIE R. S.
of piety, Cxpose us to the danger of being turned aside from the
simplicity that is in Christ.” This apprehension has respected
my own case as really as that of any of my brethren in the min-
istry. Now if there is the least danger on this subject, it is .
important that we should be aware of it. For a small mistake
among those who are set for the defence of the gospel, may be
the occasion of great mischief to the church of Christ.
The remarkable success of the gospel, as preached by its min-
isters at different times, is no reason why we should suppress our
fears, and abstain from such an inquiry as I propose. Any one
who has been a careful ºbserver of human nature, and who is
at all acquainted with the history of the church, knows full well
that a time of prosperity is a time of special danger. The same
rain and sunshine which produce a plentiful harvest of wheat, may
contribute also to an uncommon growth of tares. What season
of unusual prosperity has the church ever enjoyed, which has
not, through the corruption of man’s heart, proved a season of
danger, and an occasion of lamentable evils 7 In proportion then
as God has been pleased to pour out his Spirit and revive his
work, and to give enlargement to his people; just in that propor-
tion have we cause to be awake, and to guard against the designs
of our enemy, who is always plotting against the church, and is
never better pleased than when he sees us lulled to sleep by
prosperity. If any man shall look abroad upon the wonderful
work of God which has been accomplished in our country by
means of the word preached, and shall hence be led to say, there
is no longer any danger to the church, and any fears respecting
the cause of Christ, are all out of place ; that man has to learn
a most important lesson; and the sooner he applies for instruction
to the word and providence of God the better. The inspired
writers teach us to rejoice with trembling, to be vigilant, and to
exercise a godly jealousy.
Allow me then to proceed with my design, and to remark par-
ticularly on the subject of man's moral obligation;–a subject very
plain and simple in itself, but easily perplexed and obscured. My
general inquiry is, whether this subject is not often treated in a
manner which ill accords with our infallible standard.
LETTER, S TO Y O U N G MINIST ER. S. 23
What then is the doctrine of moral obligation ? Expressed in
the simplest, easiest manner, it is this: We are in duty bound to
obey the divine commands. In other words, we ought in all re-
spects to conform to the moral law. Or thus, it is just and right
that we should be what God requires us to be ; and we are alto-
gether inexcusable if we fail of this.
I next inquire, what proof there is of this high obligation ?
And my answer is, that it is so evident and certain that, properly
speaking, it does not need proof. There is nothing more evident.
Let a man’s heart be pure from sin, his conscience awake and
active, and his affections holy; a 1d let him, in this state of mind,
look up, and see the glorious & aracter of God, as exhibited in the
works of creation, providence, and redemption; and then let him
hear God announce the first and great command: “Thou shalt
love the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul,
and with all thy mind, and with all thy strength.” Would that
man need any argument to prove his obligation to love such a Be-
ing 7 Do the angels need to have it proved to them, that they
ought to love the God of heaven 7 And when a sinner is renewed,
and has a clear spiritual discernment and purity of heart, does he
need to have it proved, that he is under obligation to love and
obey God?
These remarks disclose an important principle, namely; that
the feeling of obligation is founded in the very constitution of the
human mind; that it is an ultimate fact in our moral nature.
And this is only saying, that God has made us moral and account-
able creatures; that he has so formed us, that we are the proper
subjects of law, and have an inward consciousness that obedience
is our duty, and that disobedience is totally wrong and worthy of
punishment. Were it not for this constitution of our mind, no ar-
gument could ever convince us that we are under any obligation
to love God; no increase of knowledge, no improvement of our
faculties, no persuasion, could ever give us a feeling of such obli-
gation.
As to the reality and extent of our moral obligation, and the
vast importance of acknowledging and feeling it, I scarºly have
24 LETTERS TO Y O U N G MINISTER. S.
words to express myself so strongly as I wish. That we are moral
and accountable beings is, in my view, just as certain as our exist-
ence. And our eternal interests require, that we should have a
deep impression of it. Our moral agency and moral obligation is
not only certain, but perfect. Of course, it does not depend upon
our character. Our being holy does not originate our obligation;
nor does our being sinful destroy it. We are equally under law,
and equally bound to obey it, whether our character is good or
bad. The propriety of our being placed under law, and our obli-
gation to obey it, depends upon those intellectual and moral facul-
ties with which our Creator has endued us, and which we always
continue to possess, whatever may be our character, or our exter-
, nal circumstances. Those who are to the last degree depraved,
have still a perfect moral agency. It is indestructible. We can
no more be rid of it, than of our existence. To whom did God
give the law at Sinai ? Of whom did he require obedience 7 Of
perfectly holy beings 7 No; but of those who were sinful; for
the most part, of those who were entirely sinful. And did Moses,
who spoke in the name of God, ever intimate that there was to be
any abatement of the high demands of the law on account of the
sinfulness of man 7 Did the prophets, or Christ, or the apostles
ever intimate such a thing : The fact is, no messenger of God,
either under the former or the latter dispensation, ever gave a
single divine command to any persons who were without sin.
There was no opportunity for this. All whom the prophets, and
Christ, and the apostles addressed, were sinners. And yet they
required them to love God with all the heart, and to be perfectly
and unceasingly holy. It was certainly just and right that men
should comply with these requisitions. In other words, they were
under obligation to love God and obey his commands.
This is always made evident by that influence of the Spirit
which frees the minds of sinners from darkness and delusion, and
causes them to know divine truth. They who are taught of the
Spirit, are convinced of sin. They are sensible that they are and
always have been under perfect obligation to love and obey God,
and that they have no excuse for transgression. They acknowl-
L ETT E R S T O Y O U N G MIN IS T E R. S. 25
cdge from the heart that the law is good, and that they ought to
have kept it coustantly and perfectly; that in disobeying the law,
they have acted a most unreasonable and wicked part, and that
they really deserve the punishment which the law denounces
against those who transgress. All this sinners feel and acknowl-
edge, when they are thoroughly convinced of sin, and judge of
things according to truth. One who is only in part convinced of
sin, feels and acknowledges this in part. His conscience is dis-
turbed, but not fully awakened. He is so blinded by his selfish
feelings, that he regards the very depravity which renders him ill-
deserving in the sight of God, as an alleviation of his guilt. But
thorough conviction of sim by the Holy Spirit sweeps away all these
refuges, and brings the sinner, ashamed and trembling, to Smite
upon his breast, and say, God be merciful to me a sinner. Those
who are thoughtless and quiet in sin have many false conceptions,
which can never be removed, except by that Holy Spirit which
Christ promised to convince the world of sin. On our part, if we
would do that which is best adapted to convince men of sin, we
must clearly explain to them the commands of the law and the
gospel, and must urge them to immediate and constant obedience,
as their reasonable service, and that which God absolutely requires.
We must endeavor to persuade them to this by all the motives
suggested by the word of God. And we must make it as evident
to them as possible, that the delay of obedience is continued re-
bellion. If they excuse themselves because they are depraved,
and say, you require too much ; tell them that you only convey
God’s message to them; that you require only what he requires;
that their complaints are against him ; that their controversy is
with their Maker. Show them the absurdity and presumption of
supposing that God can abate anything of his demands upon them,
because they are sinners. And never leave them to think that the
long continuance and high degree of their sinfulness, or its early
date, can have any other effect than to increase their guilt, and ren-
der them the more inexcusable. Address the commands of God to
them with great seriousness. Show them that you consider these
commands perfectly just ; that you are in earnest when you incul
WOL. W.
f *
26 LETTERS TO YOUNG MINISTERs.
cate obedience; that you regard them as under the highest con-
ceivable obligation to obey the divine law in all its length and
breadth, and as meriting the displeasure of God for failing to do
this. In a word, show them that you heartily join with God, and
approve of his high and spiritual commands as addressed to Sin-
mers, and of the sentence of condemnation which he pronounces
against every one who disobeys. e
As to the proper manner of exhibiting and inculcating moral
obligation, we are to derive our lessons primarily and chiefly from
the Holy Scriptures. We are to look much more than we have
commonly done to the inspired teachers, as our models. They
certainly had true practical wisdom, and their method of teaching
was founded on just views of the human mind and character, and
perfectly adapted to promote the highest good of the world. We
are accustomed to celebrate the sacred writers, as affording the
best examples of a just and impressive eloquence, — an eloquence
suited to awaken conscience, and move all the springs of human
action. Now we should act very inconsistently with ourselves, if :
after all our admiration of the Bible as a perfect model of what is
eloquent and just and useful in the manner of teaching, we should
not be careful to copy it. I earnestly hope that the extraordinary
attention which is now given to the Scriptures by theological
students, and by ministers of the gospel, will produce happy
results, and that the common mode of preaching will become
much more Scriptural than it has been. And I hope, too, that
the growing attention to the Bible in our Christian community,
and especially among the young, will contribute effectually to form
such a taste, that no preacher can be acceptable to the public,
unless he faithfully conforms to the infallible standard. Let us
then seriously and patiently inquire, in what manner the momen-
tous subject of our moral obligation is treated in the Holy Scrip-
tures.
The first thing which occurs is, that the inspired writers do not
formally assert, nor attempt by a process of reasoning to prove,
our obligation to obey the divine commands, but assume it as a
well known and acknowledged fact. In this they are fully justi-
LETTER S TO Y O U N G MIN IS TIER. S. 27
fied ; and in this we ought, certainly in all ordinary cases, to imi-
tate them; because the feeling of obligation originally arises not
from the force of arguments, but from the very constitution of our
nature, and always cxists in full strength when the mind is in a
right state, and has the proper objects in view. It is as evidently
proper, that a religious teacher should take it for granted that
men are in fact moral and accountable bêings, and under obliga-
tion to obey the divine law, as it is for a teacher of optics to take
it for granted that his pupils have the sense of seeing; or for a
teacher of geometry, that his pupils have the faculty of under-
standing. And in ordinary cases, why should it be thought any
more necessary in moral and religious discourse, either to prove or
to assert the fact, that we are accountable beings and under obliga-
tion to obey God, than in philosophical discourse to assert and
prove that we are endued with various bodily senses and intellect-
ual faculties, which render us capable of observing the physical
world, and understanding philosophical truth 2 The teacher of
natural philosophy says nothing, except incidentally, of these
senses and faculties. He does not undertake directly to treat of
them, and has no need to do it. Indeed he does not consider this
to be within his province. He takes it for granted that we are
what we are, and proceeds immediately to teach the principles of
his science. The same with the mathematician. Euclid does
not begin his system of geometry by affirming and attempting to
prove, that we have eyes to see his diagrams, and a mind to
understand his maxims and propositions. Should he affirm this
and labor ever so long to prove it, he would make it no more evi-
dent to us than it was before. He has therefore nothing to do
with this, but proceeds at Once to give his maxims, and to lay
down and demonstrate his propositions.
The inspired teachers generally act on the same principle. It
is always manifestly implied in their instructions, that we possess
the faculties of intelligent and accountable agents. But where do
they directly affirm this Where do they produce any proof of
it? Nowhere. They take it for granted.
In order to get an exact idea of the manner in which the
28 LETTERS TO Y O UN G MINISTER S.
inspired teachers proceed in regard to man's moral obligation, let
us examine Some of the great occasions on which truth is taught
and duty enjoined in the Scriptures.
We begin with the giving of the law. The Lord descended
upon Mount Sinai amid terrible thunders and lightnings; and
Moses brought the people out of the camp to meet with God, and
to hear his words. Nów what did God say to them : In what
manner did he inculcate their duty upon them : Did he begin by
telling them that they had all the powers and faculties necessary
to moral agency; that they were free, and accountable, and under
obligation to obey 7 Nothing of this. “He spake all these
words, saying, I am the Lord thy God who have brought thee out
of the land of Egypt, out of the house of bondage. Thou shalt
have no other gods before me. Thou shalt not make unto thee
any graven image. — Thou shalt not take the name of the Lord
thy God in vain. — Remember the Sabbath day to keep it holy. —
Bonor thy father and thy mother,” etc. He simply gave his law;
simply announced his commands to the people. Their being
under obligation to render obedience was asserted in no other way,
than by merely giving the commands. No proof was given, as it
was a well known and acknowledged fact. And how was it with
Moses, who afterwards labored so particularly, and with an elo-
quence so powerful and moving, to enforce obedience upon the
children of Israel 7 We have, in Deuteronomy, an account of his
faithful and impressive address to the people, containing doctrines,
precepts, warnings, threats, exhortations, and a recital of God’s
favors, and of their sins, in a great variety of forms. But where
is the passage in the whole book, in which he asserted the fact of
their moral agency, or gave them a description of those powers
and faculties which constituted them moral agents, and made it
just and proper that they should keep God’s law, and be
accountable to him for their actions 7 Let us peruse and re-
peruse this remarkable book, till we are imbued with its contents.
In this way we may do much towards learning the art of plain,
pungent, affectionate, powerful, and profitable preaching. And it
may be of some use to make the supposition, that Moses himself
LETTERS TO YOUNG MINISTERs. 29
were now here, laboring among us as a religious teacher, and
retaining the same views of man’s obligation and man’s sinfulness,
and the same manner of setting them forth, which he had when
he addressed the children of Israel after they had spent forty
years in the wilderness. Might not his example correct some
common faults in our manner of preaching, and give us a taste
for greater seriousness, simplicity, and faithfulness : And if any
of us, with our present habits, should stand forth and preach in
his presence; what would he think of us? Would it not be a
matter of wonder to him, that with all the advantages of the new
dispensation, as well as the old, we had attained to no higher
excellence 2 Let us more carefully study the Book of Deuteron-
omy, and more faithfully copy the model of sacred eloquence which
it contains.
But we must consider other occasions on which truth was taught
and duty inculcated. tº
Look then at the instances in which the prophets, from age to
age, gave instruction, warning, reproof, and exhortation. Dwell
upon those passages in their writings, where they undertook, with
the greatest particularity, to teach men their duty and their guilt,
and to urge them to repentance. Is there a single sentence
which shows, that they ever stopped to assert and prove the doc-
trine of moral agency, or to inquire into the grounds of moral
obligation, as ministers often do at the present day 7 Did they
not always assume it as a thing too evident to need any proof,
that man is a moral agent, and in duty bound to obey the Com-
mands of God 7
Take a higher example still, that of Jesus Christ. Look at the
manner of his teaching in his sermon on the mount. Read the
beginning, and the middle, and the end of it. Read his parables;
his conversations with his disciples; his addresses to unbelievers,
to objectors, to cavillers. Never man spake as he spake. He
is a perfect model. Who has studied this model as much as he
ought 7 - -
Read also the addresses of Peter, of Stephen, and of Paul, in
the Acts. Read the epistles, especially the Epistle to the
3*
30 LETTERS TO YO UN G MINISTER. S.
Romans, in a part of which the Apostle undertook to reason with
those who made some of the doctrines of the gospel an occasion
to excuse and justify themselves in sin. Where do any of these
infallible teachers undertake to prove by metaphysical reasonings,
where do they even assert, that those, to whom they gave instruc-
tion, were endued with the powers of moral agency, and that it
was just and reasonable they should be under law 7 What reason
have we to suppose, from what appears in holy writ, that they
ever deemed it necessary or proper to assert and prove this 7
That man is in fact an intelligent and moral being, and a proper
subject of law, is a truth perfectly plain and certain; and no
affirmation or argument can make it more so. If a man has lost
his natural consciousness of being a moral and accountable agent,
there is little prospect of convincing him by philosophical reason-
ing. The degradation of his mind is of such a nature, that
reasoning cannot remove it. To one who is free from this mental
degradation, an inquiry into the grounds of moral obligation can-
not be at all necessary. To pursue such an inquiry in any case
is not the province of the preacher, but of the metaphysician.
Yet while it is evident that the inspired writers do not make it
their practice to prove or even to assert the fact, that we are
moral agents, any more than they assert and prove that we have
souls; it is also evident, that they have much to do with this fact.
Whenever they address men, they address them as moral and
accountable beings, and as under immutable obligations to obey
the divine commands. And it is an object at which they con-
stantly aim, to awaken in the minds of men a proper sense of this
obligation. But by what means do they attempt to do this 7 Not,
I repeat it, by asserting our moral agency; or by exhibiting the
grounds of our obligation; (a business appropriate to the science
of metaphysics, or mental philosophy;) but by holding up plain,
obvious, certain truth ; and this they do in a great variety of
ways, giving to every one his portion. A few instances will show
something of the Scriptural manner of awakening men to a sense
of moral obligation.
Take then the case of David, when visited by the Prophet
I, ETT E R S T O Y O U N G MIN IS T E R S . § {
Nathan. David had committed an offence against God, and
greatly injured a faithful servant. But his conscience was stupe-
fied, and he had no proper feeling of the obligation which he had
violated. Nathan said not a word about conscience, or moral
Sense, or the grounds of moral agency; but he stated a case.
There were two men, one rich, and the other poor. The rich man
had exceeding many flocks and herds; and the poor man had
nothing but one little owe lamb. And the rich man spared to take
of his own flocks to dress for a traveller, but took the poor man’s
lamb. David, looking at this deed as committed by another, and
having his judgment thus freed from the bias of self-love, instantly
pronounced the man who had done it worthy of death. Nathan
then charged the deed upon David. “Thou art the man.” Da-
vid’s conscience was roused ; and with a penitent heart he said,
“I have sinned against the Lord.”
Jesus, with consummate skill, made use of the same principle in
his parables. Always fixing upon the particular truth which
was appropriate to the case, he presented it to view with great
clearness, and in a manner perfectly adapted to guard against the
blinding influence of passion, to suppress the disposition of men
to self-justification, thoroughly to awaken their consciences, and
to induce them to pass a just sentence upon themselves. There
is no part of Scripture, from which we can derive more useful les-
Sons as to the best manner of exhibiting the truths of religion in
public and in private, than the parables of Christ. Let us study
them again and again, and with increasing interest, for this very
purpose.
When Peter addressed the Jews on the day of Pentecost, he did
not go about to prove to them that they were moral and account-
able beings, but by a proper exhibition of those truths which were
specially applicable to their case, and suited to awaken their moral
faculties, made them feel that they were moral and accountable.
He charged them with crucifying Jesus of Nazareth, whom God
had made both Lord and Christ. His discourse brought things to
view which affected their consciences and their hearts, and led
them to say, “Men and brethren, what shall we do 7 °
32 LETTERS TO Y O UN G MINISTER. S.
See how the Apostle Paul labors to awaken in the unbelieving
and self-righteous Jews a sense of their violated obligations and
their ill-desert. Instead of declaring to them that they have a
conscience, he declares those plain and pungent truths which are
suited to rouse conscience from its slumbers. Instead of telling
them that they are intelligent moral agents, he endeavors to con-
vince them that they are sinners without eveuse. And what
considerations does he address to them for this purpose : They
are considerations adapted, not to an abstract intellect, but to the
conscience and the heart. He says: “Therefore thou art inex-
cusable, O man, whosoever thou art, that judgest : for wherein
thou judgest another, thou condemnest thyself; for thou that
judgest doest the same things. But we are sure that the judg-
ment of God is according to truth against them who commit such
things. And thinkest thou this, O man, that judgest them who
do such things, and doest the same, that thou shalt escape the
judgment of God 7 Or despisest thou the riches of his good-
mess, and forbearance, and long-suffering ; not knowing that
the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance? But after
thy hardness and impenitent heart, treasurest up to thyself wrath
against the day of wrath and revelation of the righteous judgment
of God; who will render to every man according to his deeds.”
— “Behold, thou art called a Jew, and restest in the law, and
makest thy boast of God, and knowest his will, and approvest the
things which are more excellent, being instructed out of the law,
and art confident that thou thyself art a guide of the blind, a
light to them who are in darkness, etc. Thou therefore who
teachest another, teachest thou not thyself? Thou that preachest
a man should not steal, dost thou steal 7 Thou that Sayest, a man
should not commit adultery, dost thou commit adultery 7 — Thou
that makest thy boast of the law, through breaking the law dishon-
Orest thou God 7 ''
This is only one instance of the plain, skilful, impressive man-
ner, in which Paul labored to convince men of sin. Numerous
other instances, equally striking, might easily be produced.
Go through the Scriptures, and you will find it a general fact,
LETTE R S TO Y O UN G MINIST ER. S. §3
that those teachers who were endued with wisdom from above,
labored to impress the minds of men with a sense of their obliga-
tion as moral agents, not by asserting the fact of their moral
agency, nor by discoursing on the grounds of moral obligation, but
by holding forth and applying those momentous truths, which were
adapted to awaken their moral faculties, to convince them of sin,
and lead them to repentance.
Now, brethren, what better can we do, than to make ourselves
familiar with the manner in which Christ and his prophets and
apostles treated this momentous subject, and to regard them as
our models 7 Who. is able to make improvements upon the
honest, affectionate, and faithful manner of the inspired teachers ?
Happy shall we be if, by all our efforts, we come up half way
to this exalted and perfect standard. Let us study the sacred
volume with more intenseness of thought, and more of the spirit
of prayer; so that We may have our habit of thinking, reasoning,
and feeling, and Our mode of teaching, formed on this divine
model.
We come then to these results. The general and important
fact, that man is a moral agent, and under perfect obligation to
obey the divine law, is so evident and certain, that it needs no
proof, and may properly be taken for granted by Christian preach-
ers. Still, in consequence of the great spiritual blindness and
stupidity which sin has brought upon the minds of men, much
needs to be done to awaken them to a lively perception of their
moral existence, and their high moral obligations. But what is the
best manner of doing this 7. The inspired teachers labor to do it,
not by directly asserting and proving that we have a moral nature,
(which would be like asserting and proving to men whom you
invite to See a picture or a landscape, that they have eyes, and
are able to see; or to men whom you invite to a concert of music,
that they have ears to hear;) but they labor to do it by a clear
exhibition of the most important objects, – by an earnest and
faithful declaration of the most plain, sacred, and moving truths.
Let us pursue the same object in the same way, honoring the
inspired Volume, diligently following our infallible guide, and faith-
34 LETTER, S TO Y O U N G MINISTER, S.
fully preaching God’s holy law and the gospel of Christ, so that
our hearers may never have cause to complain, that when they
come as poor, perishing sinners, hungering for the bread of life,
they are treated with a dry dissertation on the philosophy of the
law, or the philosophy of the gospel.
NOTE. — As the remaining Letters in this series relate to subjects which have
been particularly considered in a previous part of this publication, they are here
omitted.
E S S A. Y. S
ON THE
P H II, O S O PHY OF T H E M IN D. *
N U M B E R. I.
MENTAL ACTS TO BE CLASSIFIED, AND REFERRED TO MENTAL
FACULTIES. USE OF THE WORDS WILL, VOLITION, AFFECTION,
AND VOLUNTARY.
IN this series of Essays on the Philosophy of the Mind, it is
far from my design to bring forward the whole range of topics
commonly treated in systems of mental philosophy. My design is
to attend specially to those parts of the general subject, which
have usually received a less degree of attention than they seem to
deserve; — to those parts also which are attended with uncommon
difficulties; — and most of all to those, which have an important
bearing on moral and theological subjects. I shall do all in my
power to free every subject which comes under discussion, from an
indefinite and vague phraseology, and to present it in a clear and
satisfactory light; and thus, so far as my honest endeavors shall
avail, to promote a just mode of thinking and speaking, particu-
larly among young ministers and theological students.
* First published in the Literary and Theological Review, 1834.
33 P H II, O S O PIEIY OF THE MIN ID .
The philosophy of the mind is the knowledge and scientific
description of man, considered as intelligent and moral. A care-
ful attention to this point will frequently be of use in preserving
us from confusion and mistake. Suppose we are perplexed in our
inquiries respecting the nature and operations of the intellectual
or moral faculties; the perplexity may often be removed by shift-
ing our language and our mode of investigation, and making our
inquiries relate to man himself, or to his mind, which is indeed
himself, considered as intelligent and moral. The question in the
more proper and exact form, is not, how does such and such a
faculty act ; but how does man act; or how does the mind act 7
What we call the faculties of the mind, are not so many different
agents. There is only one agent, the mind. And when it is
said, there are different intellectual and moral powers or faculties
in the mind, the meaning is, that the mind itself acts in different
ways, and so makes it manifest that it has power to act thus. It
is in this way, that we come to consider the mind as pos-
sessed of different powers or faculties. But this point is of radi-
cal importance in mental Science, and must be treated more at
large. -
To every one who carefully investigates the subject, it must be
evident, that we are led to attribute different faculties to the
mind, from the different classes of mental operations of which we
are conscious. We perceive that certain acts of the mind have,
in some respect, a resemblance to each other. The resemblance
may be greater or less. For example; my mind recalls what is
past. I have an idea of what I was acquainted with last year, or
many years ago. The things recollected may, as to their own
nature, and as to the times and circumstances in which they took
place, be different; and the acts of the mind relative to them may
in various respects be different, — may be strong or weak, pleas-
ant or painful. In one respect, however, they are alike. They
*elate to what is past. With reference to this point of resem-
blance, this common relation, I give them a common name, recol-
lection. To express each of these acts, I say, I recollect, I
remember. The word relates to them all equally in that particu-
PEIIL O S O PHY OF TEII; MIN D. 37
lar respect in which they are alike. The difference which exists
among these acts of the mind in other respects, must be ex-
pressed in other ways. This word, recollection, or remembrance,
expresses these mental acts only in that one respect, in which
they have a common resemblance. After thus classifying these
mental acts, which I denote by the word recollection, I take one
step more ; that is, I attribute them to a particular faculty of the
Anind; or I refer them to my mind, as possessing a power or
faculty to perform them. In other words, I refer them to my
mind, which I find to be so constituted, or to have such power,
that it puts forth acts of recollection. To this power or faculty I
give the name of 7memory ; still ascribing the power and all its
acts to myself. I say, I have the power or faculty to recollect.
And as I find that I perform acts of recollection permanently, I
speak of this faculty as permanent, and regard it as an essential
attribute of my mind, and of other minds like my own.
I shall give one more example of this process in classifying our
mental acts. I am conscious of certain actings or feelings of my
mind towards others, which I call affections; and I give this gen-
eral name to them, whether they have the nature of attachment,
or aversion, and to whatever objects they relate. I do this,
because, how different soever they may be in other respects, they
all agree in this, that they are feelings of the mind or heart
towards particular objects. With reference to this point of resem-
blance, I give them a common name, affections or emotions. And
regarding myself as the agent, I ascribe to myself a power to
exercise these affections. Or, if I regard myself as the subject
of them, I consider myself as capable or susceptible of them. In
this way I come to speak of myself as having a power, faculty,
or capacity for the exercise of affections. And the word affec-
tion, which generally denotes the emotion of the mind, may be
used, as it sometimes has been, to denote also the mental faculty.
But this faculty has more frequently been called the will, or
heart.
But the objects of science and the purposes of life cannot be
accomplished, without making other and more particular classifica-
WOL. W. 4
38 PEIIL O S O PIEIY OF TEII; MINID .
tions of those operations of the mind, which are called affections.
If we should stop with a classification so general as this; how
could we intelligibly point out the various kinds of emotions
included in this large class? In what way could we make a dis-
tinction between love and hatred, desire and aversion, and other
feelings which differ from each other ? While conscious of a great
difference, we should have no word to express it, but should be
obliged to give all our affections the same name.
There is, then, an obvious necessity of making a more particu
lar classification of these acts of the mind, and of having words
appropriated to each of the classes. This brings us to the differ-
ent kinds or species, included under the general head above given.
The process here is the same as in forming the general class.
We notice those emotions which imply attachment to an object,
or complacency in it; and with reference to this point of re-
semblance, we call them love. We notice other emotions of an
opposite nature, and call them dislike or hatred.
But we have occasion to go still further. Even those affections
which are included under the name. of love, are found to differ,
in some important respects, from each other. If then we would
be exact and definite in our discourse, and express just what we
mean, we must make still more particular classifications. There
is a set of feelings, called love, which aim at the welfare of intel-
ligent beings, without regard to their moral character. To this
set of feelings we give the name of benevolence. There is another
class of feelings, which directly relate to the character of their
object, and imply delight in it. These we call complacency. Some
of the affections have such a relation to moral objects, as God,
his law, and his government, that we may properly call them
mºral or religious affections, – retaining the general term, and
marking the class by a particular epithet. Or we may include
them under a name which is more common in religious discourse,
and call them piety or holiness. Again; affections arise in our
minds towards our natural relations; and these we call matural
affections. These again we divide into parental, filial, and con-
jugal affections; and of the parental we make two classes, the
PEIIL O S O PHY OF THE MIN D . 39
paternal and maternal. Affections which regard money as their
object, we denominate avarice; those which regard honor or pro-
motion as their object, we denominate ambition ; and those which
regard the welfare of our country as their object, patriotism.
On the same principles we form various other classes of affections.
I have given these examples for the purpose of showing how
we proceed in classifying the mental operations, in giving names
to the different classes, in referring them to the mind as the agent,
and in ascribing to that agent a power or faculty adapted to such
operations.
After proceeding thus far in the consideration of this subject,
we can very readily detect the fallacy of what certain writers
advance; namely, that the mind must have just so many faculties,
and that they cannot be either more or less. They might, with
equal propriety, say, the vegetable world must have just so many
kinds of vegetables, and the mineral world, just so many kinds of
minerals; and that they cannot be either more or less; and that
air and water must have just "so many powers, principles, or
elements, and that these powers or elements cannot be either
more or less. But who asserts anything like this in the physical
sciences 7 Further improvement in these sciences has rendered
it necessary that the classifications formerly made, should be mul-
tiplied. If any important facts are newly discovered, they must
have a name. In some cases it may be, that certain facts or
relations of facts have been observed, but have not been deemed
of such consequence, as to require a particular and discriminating
word to be applied to them; but in consequence of the progress
of knowledge, it may be found necessary, for the purpose of
reasoning correctly, and guarding against mistake, that those facts
or relations should be carefully noticed, and marked with an appro-
priate word. In other cases, things heretofore classed together
and denoted by a common term, may, in Some important respects,
be dissimilar; and this dissimilarity may lead to a new classifi-
cation, which will of course be marked by a new name. And a
further investigation of the subject may show that a still further
classification is called for, in order that our language may be
40 PIIIL O S OP H Y O F TEIE M IN D .
perfectly definite, and our reasoning freed from all uncertainty
and confusion.
What has now been said of the natural sciences, is eminently
true of the mind. Let any one begin by noticing a class of mental
operations which have a common resemblance ; call them thoughts,
or ideas, and refer them to a faculty of the mind, which he de-
nominates wºnderstanding or intellect. Let him proceed to another
large class, which he calls emotions, feelings, volitions, etc. and
refer them, if he pleases, to a power of the mind, to which he
gives the general name of will. Let him comprehend all the mental
operations in these two classes, and refer them to the understand-
ing and will, as the all-comprehensive powers of the mind. But
it will not be long before he will find this classification far too
general for the purposes of Science, or even of common discourse.
The operations or states of the mind are so various, that he cannot
sufficiently designate them by these general terms; and of course,
he will have occasion to form various subordinate classes, and to
distinguish them by particular teams. This process of classifying
ought to proceed just as far as we discover new and more parti-
cular relations and differences of mental phenomena, and have
occasion accurately to express them, either for the purposes of
science or of common life. And the number of classes formed
will, of necessity, be multiplied, in proportion to the advances we
make in an exact knowledge of the mind. Accordingly, we are
never authorized to affirm, that the classification of mental opera-
tions has proceeded to its utmost limits. Suppose we discover
some new relations of our mental acts; or suppose it becomes
necessary to take more particular notice of certain relations,
which have before been known, though but slightly considered.
Either of these circumstances will lead us to form a new class
of mental phenomena, and to refer that class to a power of the
mind, designated by a new name.
It should, then, be kept in view, that the classes which we form
of mental acts, and the mental faculties to which we refer them,
are to be multiplied more or less, according to the state of our
knowledge, and as convenience requires. No other limits can be
Set to classification.
P HILOSO PEIY OF TIIIE MIN D . 41
But in what way can the further classification which is found
necessary, and which we have actually made in our own thoughts,
be most conveniently marked 7 In regard to this, different meth-
ods may be pursued. First ; a new word may be coined, to
designate the new class. But this is frequently found inconve-
nient. Secondly; a word which has been applied to other subjects
in a schse Somewhat analogous, may be applied to the new class
of mental phenomena, and when thus applied, may have a peculiar,
technical, or Scientific sense. This is very common, and no one
considers it liable to objections. Thirdly; in case two words have
heretofore been used to denote a larger and more general class
of mental acts; one of the more particular classes formed, may
be denoted by one of those words, and the other class by the
other.
This last mode, or something like it, may be adopted, and has
actually been adopted, in regard to the words affection and volition.
Heretofore, these words were frequently used as nearly synony-
mous. And they are still used so by Some writers. According
to this, all the affections are acts of the will, i.e. volitions; and
all the volitions are affections. Here the will is regarded as the
general faculty, to which all the feelings, emotions, dispositions,
and determinations of the mind are to be referred. And all these
feelings, emotions, etc. are sometimes called voluntary; by which
I suppose may be meant, that they are acts of the will, taken in
the sense above mentioned. Now the practice of using the words
affection and volition in so indeterminate a sense, has occasioned
much needless obscurity and dispute. The fact is unquestionable,
that the acts of the mind which have been thus comprehended un-
der one class, and referred to one general faculty, are, in Some
important respects, different from each other. And disregarding
this difference has often rendered language exceedingly vague,
where it should be perfectly definite. This evil has been more or
less felt by thinking men generally. And something has been
done to remove it, even in common discourse. An attempt has
been extensively made, and with considerable success, to divide
this large set of mental acts into two classes, and to appropriate
4*
42 P EIIL O S O PHY OF THE MIND.
the word volition to one class, and affection, emotion, or feeling,
to the other. Locke made this distinction expressly, and took
pains to illustrate it. He spoke of it, however, not as a new dis-
tinction, but as one which was well understood. He says,” “We
must remember that volition or willing is an act of the mind
directing its thoughts to the production of any action, and thereby
exerting its power to produce it.” Again; “Volition being a
very simple act, whosoever desires to understand what it is, will
better find it, by reflecting on his own mind, and observing what
it does when it wills, than by any variety of articulate sounds
whatsoever. This caution of being careful not to be misled by
expressions that do not enough keep up the difference between
the will and several acts of the mind that are quite distinct from
it, I think the more necessary, because I find the will often con-
founded with several of the affections, especially desire, and one
put for the other; and that by men who would not willingly be
thought not to have had very distinct motions of things, and not
to have writ very clearly about them. This I imagine has been
no small occasion of obscurity and mistake in this matter, and
therefore as much as may be to be avoided. For he that shall
turn his thoughts inward upon his mind when he wills, shall see
that the will or power of volition, is conversant about nothing but
that particular determination of the mind, whereby, barely by a
thought, the mind endeavors to give rise, continuation or stop to
any particular action which it takes to be in its power.” Again;
“We find in ourselves a power to begin or forbear, continue or
end, several actions of our mind, or motions of our bodies, barely
by a thought of the mind, ordering or as it were commanding the
doing or not doing of such or such a particular action. This
power which the mind has thus to order the consideration of any
idea, or the forbearing to consider it, or to prefer the motion of
any part of the body to its rest, and vice versa, in any particular
instance, is that which we call the will. The actual exercise of
that power by directing any particular action, or its forbearance,
is what we call volition, or willing.” And Locke speaks of that
*Essay on the Understanding, Book ii. ch. 21.
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND. 43
action, and that forbearance of an action, which is consequent
to such order of the mind, as voluntary; and of that which takes
place without such an order, as involuntary.
Abercrombie, in his work on the Intellectual Powers, says:
“Simple volition is that state of mind which immediately precedes
action. We will a certain act, and the act follows, unless it be
prevented by external restraint, or by physical inability to perform
it.” And he represents volitions as arising out of the affections
and desires. e
This is a distinction which seems now to be generally made,
especially when the object of discourse requires philosophical
accuracy. It is a plain matter of fact, that there is a class of
mental acts, which answer to the above description of volitions ;
and that there are other mental acts which answer to the sense
now commonly given to the word affections or emotions, but do not
agree to this description of volitions. So that there is a real
foundation for making two classes of these mental operations.
And it is clear that there must be two classes formed, and desig-
mated by distinct and appropriate terms, or we cannot express ,
ourselves clearly and definitely. We have frequent occasion to
speak of those particular acts of the mind which Locke, Aber-
crombie, and others, call volitions. Now suppose we call them
affections; or suppose we call them volitions, – still using the
word in the same sense with affections. How can we make our-
Selves to be understood, unless we go into a further explanation,
and say we mean that class of affections or volitions which imme-
diately precede particular mental or bodily actions, and which not
only precede them, but ordinarily produce them 7 Now if we
would consult convenience or correctness in our language, we
must have some word appropriated to a class of mental acts, so
numerous and important, and so distinguishable from others.
It is only in this way that we can free ourselves from the intol-
erable necessity of giving a particular description of those mental
acts, whenever we speak of them, or a particular explanation of
the word by which we denote them; — a necessity which will
always lie upon us, unless those mental acts which are so clearly
44 P HILOSOPHY OF THE MIN D .
distinguishable from others, are formed into a class by themselves,
and pointed out by a distinct word. -
But by what word may this particular class of mental acts be
most conveniently designated 7 -
I have touched upon this question in previous remarks. And
there can be no doubt as to the proper answer, considering that so
much has already been done to settle the point, both by a prevail-
ing usage, and by the authority of distinguished writers. The
mental acts here referred to, may be called, and usually are
called, volitions, or determinations of the will ; while other men-
tal acts formerly included, and by some still included under that
name, may be called, and more commonly are called, affections,
feelings, or emotions. To appropriate one of these words, that
is, volitions, to one of these kinds of mental acts, and the other
words to the other kind, is much more convenient, and much more
according to the common mode of proceeding in other similar
cases, than to invent a new word either for one or the other kind
of mental acts. And it certainly makes the distinction much
more plain and striking, than to apply the word volitions to both
classes of mental operations, and then to go about to mark the dif-
ferent kinds of volitions by Such epithets, as immanent and ema-
ment, or by any other epithets. As there is so obvious and
important a difference between these two sets of mental acts; the
difference should, if practicable, be marked by different names,
rather than by different adjectives applied to the same name. If
we use the word volition, as Locke and Abercrombie do, and in
conformity with prevailing usage at the present day; we denote
the species of action intended, at once and very clearly, and then
refer it to the will, as the faculty of the mind which is concerned
in it. But if we call both these classes of mental acts, volitions,
or acts of the will, we shall be obliged to distinguish the particu-
lar class intended, by such a hard and cumbersome phraseology,
as emanent volitions, imperative volitions, evecutive acts of the will,
etc. This might be tolerated, were there no other way. But as
there is another way, and One perfectly convenient, and as custom
has already done so much in favor of it; why should we not
adopt it 7
PHILOSOP [IY OF THIE MINI). 45
The ill consequences of neglecting to make the distinction above
mentiomed, are very obvious. Some things are true of those men-
tal acts that I would call volitions, which are not true of those that
I would call affections ; and some things are true of the affec-
tions, which are not true of the volitions. Suppose now I affirm
one of these things of volitions, using the word in the large sense,
as comprehending affections. You see the matter is left in doubt.
The truth or falsity of the affirmation depends entirely on the
definition which I shall give to the word volitions. Take an illus-
tration. Suppose I say, animals eat flesh. The affirmation is
true of some animals, but not of others. To make the affirma-
tion completely true, I must specify the animals that are carnivor-
ous, and then confine the affirmation to them. Without this,
whatever my meaning may be, my language is loose and vague.
In like manner, I may assert a thing of volitions, taken in the
large, indeterminate sense; but after I have made the assertion, I
shall be obliged to tell what I mean by the word volitions, before
any one can judge whether the assertion is true or false.
As an objection to the views above expressed, it may be said,
that the inspired writers use the words, will, choose, etc. in a
large, general sense, and that we may do the same. In reply to
this, I remark, first, that the language of Scripture often requires
explanation, and that the explanation is of no value, unless it is
made in plain definite language. Secondly ; I remark, that the
inspired writers never intended to teach moral truth in a philo-
sophical or metaphysical manner. When we undertake to treat
of moral truth in this manner, we are no more obliged to confine
ourselves to Scripture language, than astronomers are when they
discourse scientifically of the bodies which compose the solar sys-
tem. The inspired writers aimed to convey their meaning in the
language of the times when they wrote. Our business is to find
out what that meaning was, and then to express that meaning in
language which is common and intelligible now ; and, if our object
requires philosophical correctness, to avail ourselves of philosoph-
ical discoveries, and of the exactness of philosophical terms. I
might give many examples on different subjects, but shall content
46 PEIIL O S O P BIY OF TEIE MIN D .
myself with one. Who doubts the meaning which the sacred
writers affixed to the word in the original Scriptures, translated
bowels 2 But who that is engaged in writing a system of mental
philosophy, would now point out the emotion of pity by that word 7
In scientific use it belongs rather to physiology, or anatomy.
I remark, thirdly, that while the words will, willing, etc. are
employed by the inspired writers with great latitude of significa-
tion, it is for the most part very easy to determine the sense in
which they are used, from the circumstances of the case. These
circumstances form a kind of definition of the word ; that is, they
show in what sense it is used. But amid the ever varying opin
ions, the controversies, mistakes, and ambiguous expressions, of
uninspired men, the case is widely different. And we can never ,
be sure that we rightly apprehend their meaning, unless they
make known to us the specific and exact sense in which they use
words.
These considerations, and others which might be offered, satisfy
me, that the latitude of meaning which the Scriptures give to the
words above mentioned, is no reason why we should not take pains
to use theological and metaphysical terms in a uniform and defi-
mite sense. Indeed no man, who is at all versed in the discussion
of religious or philosophical subjects, can need anything but his
own experience, to convince him of the great importance of
avoiding all ambiguity and vagueness, and aiming at perfect defi-
niteness, in the use of language.
And if it is so necessary to classify the operations of the mind
in order that the use of the words volition and will may be defi-
nite ; there is the same necessity in regard to the word voluntary.
This word seems to be applied by some, not only to that which
results from a volition, taken in the more restricted sense, but to
all the affections, certainly to the moral affections. See now what
effect this produces. You say, for example, that love to God is a
voluntary affection. But how do I know what you mean, seeing
the word voluntary has different senses : According to one sense
of the word, the affirmation, that love to God is a voluntary affec-
tion, would mean, that such love results, as a consequence, from a
PEIIL O S O PHY OF THE MIN D . 47
previous volition. Is this your meaning? If you say it is ; I am
still at a loss, because I do not know how you use the word voli-
tion. You may use it in the restricted sense of Locke and
others, signifying a determination or thought of the mind, which
“ orders, and as it were commands” the exercise of love ; a mere.
willing or choosing, for some reason, that love should exist. Or
you may speak of volition in the larger sense, and make it synon-
ymous with affection. How shall I know, unless you inform me,
which of these senses you affix to the word volition ? There is
still another sense in which voluntary may be used, when applied
to the affection of love to God. It may mean that love to God is
a free, unconstrained, spontaneous act of the mind. Is this the
sense you give to it 7 If you say, it is ; I ask again; do you
give it this sense uniformly 2 This cannot be ; for you speak of
the motions of the hands and feet as voluntary; and you surely
cannot mean that these bodily motions are acts of the mind; and
you will find that you can call them voluntary in no sense but this,
that they take place in obedience to the will, or follow a volition.
Some acts of the mind obey the will in the same way with bodily
acts. To all these the word voluntary may properly be applied.
Shall we then apply it thus * That is ; shall we call those acts
voluntary which follow a volition, and because they follow it 7 And
then shall we immediately depart from this sense of the word, and
apply it to those acts, which are not subject to the will, and do not
follow our volitions 2 If we do so, the word can have no definite
and settled meaning. Will you say, it is convenient to use the
word voluntary in different senses, – sometimes to signify that an
act of ours is free and spontaneous; sometimes that it is an act
of the will, or a volition; and sometimes, that it is the consequence
of a volition ; and that the circumstances of the case will gener-
ally show which of these significations is intended ? But suppose
a case occurs in which I am really at a loss as to your meaning,
When you say, that love to God is a voluntary affection, I may
think your meaning to be, that love to God is dependent on an
act of the will; that it arises in the heart in consequence of a
previous volition. But I do not certainly know, and come to ask
48 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND.
*.
you whether this is your meaning. It now becomes importanti...it
you should explain yourself. For it is the opinion of some that
moral affection must be voluntary, in the sense of being depend-
ent on an act of the will. If this be true, it ought to be plainly
asserted, and well understood. If it be not true, the mistake will
have a bad influence. It therefore becomes important, that our
minds should be set right as to your meaning. But if, instead of
explaining your meaning, you continue in a loose, ambiguous man-
ner to apply the word voluntary to moral affection; what will be
the result, but that our minds will remain in doubt as to what you
mean to assert, and will suffer all the inconvenience of not being
able to find out the sense of your words? Why then will any
One continue to make use of a word in such a way, that we may
understand it to mean this thing or that, just as we please, or may
not understand it in any sense 7 Is this consistent with frank-
ness : Is it consistent with a just regard to the truth : Surely
no man who has the habit of plain, honest dealing, will knowingly
suffer others to be in doubt as to his meaning ; much less will he
continue to use an ambiguous Word for the purpose of seeming to
favor a popular opinion which he himself does not believe.
It is not within my present design to inquire whether love to
God, or any other moral affection, is or is not voluntary in the
prevailing and proper sense of the word. I have directed my
remarks to one point; that is, the importance of classifying the
different exercises of the mind, and of marking each class by an
appropriate word. The importance of this I have endeavored to
illustrate, by showing what consequences flow from the practice of
treating a particular part of our mental exercises in too general a
manner, and using the words will, volition, and voluntary in an
ambiguous, vague sense. We cannot pursue the course of honesty
and plaim dealing, if we refuse to do what we are able, by intelli-
gible and definite words and phrases, to convey to others the very
meaning which we have in our own minds. If for example we
declare, without any explanation, that love to God is a voluntary
affection, while we do not believe the opinion to be true which we
Suppose others will derive from the expression; do we not violate
PEIIL O S O PEIY OF TEI E MIN D . 49
the principle of Christian simplicity and uprightness? If indeed
we do believe in our hearts, that love to God, or any other moral
affection, is under the control of the will, and rises in the mind as
the effect of a previous volition ; then surely it is right that we
should declare such belief. I may give another example, to illus-
trate the same thing. The obvious meaning conveyed by the
phrase sometimes used, that sinners can love God if they will, is,
that their loving God will flow as an effect from a previous volition,
or that it will take place in consequence of an act of the will.
Now if it is verily the opinion of any man, that love to God is
produced in this way, it is right for him to say so. But if this is
not his opinion, how can he consistently make use of a phrase,
which will certainly be understood in this sense ? Whether the
opinion is true or not, will be considered in another place.
The uncertainty and mistake which will be sure to result from
such an ambiguous, indeterminate use of the word voluntary, may
be avoided by making a distinct class of those actions, bodily and
mental, which flow from a previous choice, or are the consequence
of volition, and distinguishing them by the word voluntary. The
sense I have given to the word voluntary, is the sense which
Locke and other writers generally give, and which it prevail?ngly
has in common discourse. So that when it is applied, as it not
unfrequently is, to the affections, the meaning is generally sup-
posed to be, that the affections are under the power of volition, or
move in obedience to the will. Let the word uniformly have this
sense; and then, if a man affirms any action, either corporeal or
mental, to be voluntary, we shall know what his meaning is. And
if we doubt the truth of his affirmation, we shall readily see what is
the question at issue between him and us, and can enter at once on
the discussion of it, with a prospect of arriving at a right conclusion.
But what good will it do to discuss the question, whether a partic-
ular affection is voluntary, while the meaning of the word is
unsettled, and altogether ambiguous 7 In all sciences, and in none
more than in the philosophy of the mind, the phenomena which
are contemplated, should be carefully classified, and words should
be used in a definite, uniform sense. If this were done, we
VOL. V. 5 -
50 PEIIL O S O PRIY OF TEI E M IN D.
should be rid of a great part of the obscurity, misapprehension,
and controversy, usually occasioned by an ambiguous, vague
manner of thinking and writing. The fact that words are often
used loosely and variously in common discourse, and in books
written for practical purposes, is no reason why we should not
aim at something more definite and exact, especially in meta-
physical discourse. Why should those who pretend to treat
theoretically of the nature of the mind, be content with less
clearness, definiteness and uniformity in language, than are found
in the physical sciences 2 Those who write on these sciences
have to contend, as really as we, with an indefinite loose way of
thinking and speaking among the common people. But this
does not hinder them either from carefully classifying the facts
which occur in the matural world, or from applying words in a well
defined and uniform manner to the different classes which are
thus formed. When a new set of facts is discovered, of a different
nature or different relations from those before known ; they agree
upon some particular term by which it shall be expressed. Nor
is it ever made a matter of complaint, if they take a word from
common discourse, and employ it in a new and peculiar Sense,
provided they do it judiciously and aptly. And after they have
given proper notice of the sense which they affix to particular
words; that sense is always put upon those words by others.
This is motoriously the case in the different branches of Natural
Philosophy. Why should it not be so in mental science : There
is surely no science in which it is more important to avoid all
looseness and indeterminateness in our language, and to speak
with the greatest clearness and definiteness, and the greatest
uniformity in the sense of our words.
It is also evidently necessary, that we should carry the classi-
fication of the intellectual operations and powers further than
has commonly been done, and more definitely mark the different
classes by appropriate words. The mind perceives things in the
natural world, and is conscious of its own actions; and it has
ideas of the relations of things, such as cause and effect, and of
general abstract truths, such as the principles of mathematical,
PEIIL O S O PHY OF TEIE M IN D . 5i
metaphysical, and moral science. Now it seems desirable that
we should have a single word for the former class of these mental
acts, and another for the latter; and that we should have dis-
tinct words for the different mental faculties developed in these
different classes of mental acts. The word understanding might
be used to denote the faculty to which the former class are re-
ferable, and reason, the faculty to which the latter are referable.
It would manifestly do something towards clearing mental science
of doubts and difficulties, if the operations of the mind to be
classed under the word wnderstanding, and those to be classed
under reason, should be exactly defined and settled; so that we
could distinguish between what is meant by acts of under-
standing and acts of reason, as really as we now do between
what is meant by seeing and what by hearing.
It is unnecessary to extend these remarks to the other operations
of the mind. My object is to expose the unsoundness of the
opinion sometimes advanced, that there are and must be just so
many faculties of the mind, and no more ; and to show that if
we would cultivate in ourselves and others a just and accurate
habit of thinking and speaking, we must carefully notice the
Smaller as well as larger differences among the operations of the
mind, and make new and more particular classifications, and
employ new and appropriate terms to express them, as occasion
requires; and that we must proceed in this way, till all the
important relations among our mental acts, whether more obvi-
ous, or more minute and recondite, are distinctly and clearly
marked. All this, which is desirable and necessary in regard
to the operations of the mind generally, is specially so in regard
to those which are of a moral mature, and stand in direct rela-
tion to divine objects. Here the want of a just and careful
discrimination will expose us to dangerous mistakes. It is with
an ultimate reference to the exercises or acts, which belong to us
as moral and accountable beings, and to the general interests in-
volved in them, that I have entered on the consideration of the
present subject.
52 PEIIL O S O PHY OF THE MIND .
N U M B E R II.
RECAPITULATION. DISPOSITION, INCLINATION, SUSCEPTIBILITY
CONSIDERED.
THE remarks made in the previous essay on the manner in
which mental operations are classified, and then referred to the
mind as possessed of faculties adapted to the different classes
of those operations, show clearly the truth of what I suggested
at the beginning of the discussion, that what we call the faculties
of the mind are not to be considered as distinct parts into which
the mind is divided, and which, by being united together, con-
stitute the mind, as different parts or ingredients make up a
complex material substance. Locke well observes, that the or—
dinary way of speaking of the faculties of the mind is apt to
breed confusion in men's thoughts, by leading them to suppose
that the words denoting those faculties “stand for some real
beings in the Soul; ” Or, for “So many distinct agents in us,
which have their several provinces and authorities, and command,
obey, and perform several actions, as So many distinct beings; which
has been no small occasion of wrangling, obscurity and uncertainty.”
The mind is a simple, indivisible, spiritual being. And when we
speak of it as having different faculties, we do nothing more than
to say, that the mind itself, a simple, immaterial being, performs
so many different kinds of action, and of course has power to
perform them. But what we call a power or faculty of the mind
is no more a distinct agent, than the faculty of speaking or
walking is a distinct agent. The faculty is not the agent, but
belongs to the agent. It is the intelligent being, mon, and he
only, that acts, and acts in such a variety of ways. He thinks,
desires, loves, hates, wills, and does all things else which are
ascribed to his different faculties. I repeat it, that, strictly
speaking, it is not the power or faculty that acts, but the person
who is possessed of the power. We do indeed find it conven-
PEIIL O S OPEI Y O F THE MIN D . 53
ient, to keep up the usual expressions, and say, the will chooses,
or puts forth a volition, reason compares and judges, etc. But
after all, this is a loose way of talking, and far from being philo-
sophically correct. For in strict propriety, it is the intelligent
being, the person, that compares, judges, chooses, and performs
all other mental acts; and from the fact of his acting in these
different ways, we learn that he is capable of it, or has the faculty
of doing it. We should keep this in remembrance. And when
any obscurity or confusion arises from the more common modes
of speech, we shall do well to dismiss them for a time, and adopt
language which is strictly and philosophically correct. In this
way we may in many instances effectually disentangle a subject
under consideration, and obtain views of it which are clear and
satisfactory. **
These observations are as true, in regard to moral qualities, as
in regard to actions. These qualities belong to the moral being,
man. But in common discourse, we often ascribe moral qualities
to particular faculties, and especially to the affections and acts.
We say, the affections of the heart, the determinations of the
will, and the voluntary actions, are good or bad, praise-worthy
or blame-worthy. And it is sometimes represented, that all
moral qualities are to be predicated directly of actions, and of
actions only. But such representations cannot be literally true;
nor can any thinking man seriously believe them to be so.
Take an action which is morally wrong, and worthy of blame
and punishment. Do we really blame and punish the action ?
When a man commits the act of stealing; do the civil magistrates
condernm and imprison the act? When a man commits the act
of murder, is it the murderous act that is put to death 2 The
act itself began and ended perhaps in a moment. And even
during that moment, it had no existence separate from the agent.
Had we stood by, and witnessed the act of theft or murder,
the real object of our disapprobation and abhorrence would have
been, the wicked agent himself, the thief, the murderer. The
agent has a permanent existence. And though many years
may have passed away since the criminal action was perpetrated,
5*
54 PHILOSOP BIY OF THE MIN D .
the action itself having now no existence except in memory, and
no action like it having been committed since, still we hold the
agent responsible for it, and consider him to be as really
worthy of punishment, as he was at the very time when he was
engaged in perpetrating the criminal deed. We do indeed
speak familiarly of the wickedness and ill-desert of the act; but,
in strict propriety, wickedness and ill-desert can be predicated
only of the agent. If we say, the act is wicked and ill-deserv-
ing; our real meaning is, that he who commits it is so ; as our
conduct clearly shows. All human actions and qualities are,
then, attributable to man, the agent, and to him only. This
view of the subject agrees with the practical judgment of all
IOleI). -
When you read the life of Howard, and attend to the high
commendations which the biographer bestows upon his actions,
calling them benevolent, philanthropic, humane, kind, self-deny-
ing, disinterested, and generous ; you understand him as com-
mending Howard himself, and as applying all these honorable
epithets to him, as the doer of these actions. In grammatical
construction the epithets do indeed belong to his actions. But
what of that ? Your thoughts always fix upon Howard himself,
as philanthropic, humane, self-denying, and disinterested. These
attributes truly belong to a person, and to nothing else. And
nothing else can be the real object of our esteem, gratitude, or
love. When such qualities are predicated of actions, it is only
in a secondary, relative sense, as the actions indicate the dispo-
sition or character of the person who performs them. To be
benevolent, is to wish well to others. Does an action wish well to
others? Has an action desire or volition ? Can an action enjoy
a reward 2 - -
I have dwelt so long upon this point, because I have been de-
sirous of making it as clear and certain as possible ; and because,
though it seems perfectly obvious, and though conscience and
common sense always hold it as a plaim truth, it has often been
overlooked; and men have reasoned about actions, as though
the common phraseology, which ascribes moral qualities and re-
lations to them, were literally and philosophically true.
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIN D . 55
In what light then are outward, visible actions to be regarded ?
I answer; so far as our moral relations are concerned, they are
to be regarded principally as indications of the character of the
agent ; or, if you prefer it, as giving character, that is, visible
character to the agent. To God, the character is known before
those actions take place which manifest it to us. The searcher
of hearts was perfectly acquainted with the internal character of
Judas, or the qualities of his mind, before he did those things by
which his character was developed. But his fellow men could
not search his heart, and accordingly could not know his character,
except as his actions made it visible. In like manner the chil-
dren of Israel were put to various trials in the wilderness, that
they might know what was in them ; not that they might be made
different from what they were, but that they might, by their
conduct, discover their own real character, and make it manifest
to others. The real, internal character of a man, his character
as God sees it, essentially consists in what is usually called his
disposition, inclination, or propensity. To say, a man has a
benevolent disposition, or a disposition to do good, is the same
as to say, he has a benevolent character ; he is a benevolent
972,070.
It has been common with those who have written on mental
science, to use the word disposition or inclination, to express not
only that current of affection of which we are directly conscious,
but also that state of mind which precedes the exercise of affection,
and which is developed by it, — and which becomes the subject
of consciousness by being thus developed. The thing intended
by the word disposition is, I think, as clearly apprehended, as
anything which relates to the nature and attributes of the mind.
If we attend to a few of the instances in which the word is
commonly used, we shall find that no one can have any doubt as
to its propriety, or any difficulty in understanding it ; how
abstruse and incomprehensible soever the subject may be, when
treated metaphysically.
Take the case of Judas, at the grave of Lazarus. His mind,
we suppose, was intensely occupied with a variety of thoughts
56 PEIIL O S O PEIY OF T H E M IN D .
and feelings, while he witnessed the events which took place on
that memorable occasion. Perhaps he sympathized with the
weeping friends, and was filled with astonishment at that omnipo-
tent word which raised Lazarus from the dead. But whatever
his thoughts and feelings might be, the real character of Judas
was the same as at other times. He had an avaricious disposi-
tion. He might indeed have had, at the time, no thought of
money, and no exercise of covetousness. Still he had a disposi-
tion or propensity to love money. The proof of this is, as soon
as circumstances varied, and the thought of money arose in his
mind, he had the same covetous desire, as before. Who can
suppose that the character of that miser, or, which is the same
thing, his propensity to love money, ceased, because his mind was,
for a time, occupied with other things : The character of John
was different. He had no such disposition to love money. If
he had been tempted as Judas was, the temptation would have
met with an opposite disposition, and would have been repelled
with abhorrence.
Suppose another case. A man in prison has been long prac-
tised in stealing. His Solitary confinement at night, his employ-
ment by day, and the religious instructions he receives, produce
an apparent change, so that he weeps at the remembrance of his
crimes, and resolves never to steal again. But the change is
only apparent. There is no real alteration in his moral char-
acter. Now what is more common in such a case, than to say,
he has in reality the same disposition, as formerly ; and he
will act it out, and make it manifest, as Soon as tempting
circumstances occur. The thing here intended by dispostion,
is plainly something distinct from the present exercise of the
mind.
Take the example of a decided Christian, whose mind is oc-
cupied with a mathematical demonstration, or engrossed with
the reasoning and eloquence of a distinguished statesman, and
whose thoughts are, for the time, wholly withdrawn from the
subject of religion. We are accustomed to say, that whatever
the present thoughts and feelings of such a man may be, he
PHILO so PHY OF THE MIND. 57.
has a fixed dispostion to love God, or an habitual principle of
piety; and that there is no need of a change in his disposition,
or goverming moral principle, in order to excite his love, his heart
being renewed, and prepared to love, as soon as the object is
seen. In this he differs essentially from an unregenerate man,
whose enmity will be excited by a clear view of the divine char-
acter, and who, on that very account, is generally considered as
having a disposition opposed to God, although he may not now
have any conscious exercises of enmity.
Take the case of affectionate parents, who have now no thought
of a beloved absent child, and of course no exercise of affection
towards him. But they have what is called a disposition to love
their child, a principle of parental affection. In this respect,
they differ widely from those parents who are “without natural
affection.” They may all agree in this, that they are now wholly
occupied with other subjects, and have no present thought or
feeling respecting their children. But there is an essential dif-
ference in character. These parents have a kind, affectionate
disposition ; but those have not. If you doubt this, you may
Soon have your doubt removed. Let the parents first mentioned
See their child returned from a long absence, or receive a letter
from him, and their hearts instantly overflow with emotions of
love and joy; while the other parents, in like circumstances, are
unmoved.
There are two men, one of whom has always shown himself
to be mild and gentle, the other, irascible and violent. What is
more common than to say of the first, he has a mild temper, a
disposition to bear affronts and injuries with meekness, or, that
he is inclined to feelings of gentleness and kindness; and of
the other, that he has an irritable temper, or a propensity to be
angry and violent” And we say these things of them without
respect to any present exercises which indicate what their dispo-
sition is. The existence of the particular disposition which is at-
tributed to them, is, I admit, inferred from past 'exercises of it;
but the disposition is believed and declared to exist, when there
are no exercises of it. It is indeed spoken of with relation to
58 PHILoso PHY OF THE MIND.
future exercises, and as the ground of them ; for when we pre-
dicate a disposition of any one, we do it on the supposition that he
will have certain feelings hereafter, if circumstances occur which
are suited to excite them.
Suppose one example more. There are two judges, one of
whom we say has a corrupt disposition, a principle of selfish-
mess, and is inclined to take bribes; and the other of whom we
say has a firm principle of honesty and honor, an integrity of
heart, an uprightness of disposition, which no temptation can turn
aside. And yet these two judges may now be engaged in busi-
ness which gives no exercise to their moral principles, and may
for the present exhibit characters equally spotless and fair.
There is, however, an obvious and important difference even now,
lying not in present action, either corporeal or mental, but in
what we call disposition, or moral principle.
The various cases here mentioned, together with the ideas
commonly entertained and the language commonly employed
respecting them, lead to the following conclusions.
I. That the disposition, inclination, character, or principle, is
discoverable in no other way than by the actions which flow from
it. This is true of the attributes of the mind universally.
Nothing which belongs to the mind, not one of its faculties,
and not even its existence, is ever known to us in any other
way, than as it is developed by action. A spiritual agent
must indeed exist, with all his essential attributes, in order to
action. But how can such existence and attributes be known
to others of the same nature, or even to himself, except by
mental action ? God, who creates the mind and all its powers,
does indeed perfectly know them, without waiting for any dis-
closure to be made by action. But this is one of God’s pre-
rogatives. We are capable of nothing like it.
II. The fact, that the disposition of the mind is known only as
it is developed by action, is certainly no proof that it does not
exist previously to action. It is never made an argument that the
mind itself, or any one of its essential attributes, does not exist,
that there is no way in which we can be conscious of its existence,
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND. 59
except by its operations? Will any one deny that Milton, and
Pascal, really had minds, and Superior mental powers, before
they exhibited them in action, because their minds and their men-
tal powers could not then be known, even to themselves? It
will be admitted, that what a man does, and what he acquires,
are to be considered only as developing, Strengthening, and im–
proving the faculties which he previously possessed, not as ori-
ginating them. Why is not this equally true in regard to the
disposition or inclination of the mind? What should we think
of one who should deny that the mind of a human being has
within itself a disposition or tendency to the exercise of compas-
Sion or parental love, because the time has not yet come for its
exercise : &
III. It is a truth commonly believed and acted upon, that the
particular feelings and actions of a man are connected with his
disposition, or the character of his mind, and result from it as
consequences. I would now limit the proposition to those feelings
and actions which occur as a matter of course. Such feelings and
actions, I maintain, are connected with a man’s disposition, and
result from it as consequences. Judas’s treatment of Christ
plainly resulted as a consequence from his covetous and dishonest
disposition. Peter's conduct in the judgment-hall doubtless re-
sulted from the rashness and violence of temper, or the fear of
suffering, which were matural to him, and which he had not yet
completely overcome. The first emotions of pity, or of parental
love, which arise in the mind of a man, are always regarded as
resulting from his matural disposition. Saul of Tarsus, in his
unremewed state, had a proud, Self-righteous, and violent dis-
position, and from this, in the circumstances in which he was
placed, flowed his feelings and conduct towards Christians. Paul,
the regenerate man, the penitent believer, had another disposi-
tion, — a disposition to love and obey Christ, to compassionate
the souls of sinners, and to labor and suffer for their good; and
from this holy disposition resulted his feelings and conduct as an
Apostle. And after his holy disposition was known to himself
and others, it was natural for him and them to conclude that, in
60 PHILOSOPHY OF TEI E M IN D .
all ordinary circumstances, such would be his feelings and con.
duct. Whatever may be said of certain extraordinary cases, this
connection of our feelings and actions with our previous disposition
must be considered as a fact in all common cases; and especially
in those cases where particular feelings and actions may be an-
ticipated as a matter of course.
I do not, however, mean by these remarks to imply that the
disposition or propensity of our mind is the only cause of our
feelings and actions. For this disposition, without the influence
of outward motives, that is, without the influence of circum-
stances suited to call it forth, would never produce the effects
referred to. The feelings and actions must be regarded as effects
flowing from the combined influence of the dispositions of the
mind, and of all the circumstances which bear upon them. So
that when we say, a man’s disposition is such as will cause these
or those particular feelings, and lead to these or those actions,
the meaning must be, that such a disposition will have such an
influence when the appropriate circumstances occur.
Let me here advert, in few words, to a very obvious distinction
between what we call powers or faculties of mind, and what we
call disposition. The mental faculties which belong to a man
qualify him to act in various ways, but do not account for his
acting in any one particular way, rather than others. A man
possessed of distinguished intellectual faculties, may be an eminent
statesman, or merchant, or a minister of the gospel, or highwayman,
or pirate. He is able to excel in anything which he undertakes.
But from his ability to do so many things, we cannot infer that
he will do any one particular thing, rather than another. I name
to you a young man of brilliant talents, and I ask you what
course a young man of such talents, under the influence of aus-
picious circumstances, will be likely to pursue. You say, you
cannot tell, unless you know something of his disposition, or the
tendency of his mind. Here is the distinction I have in view.
By his powers or faculties, a man is, made able to pursue many
different courses, right and wrong. His disposition leads him to
pursue one particular course, rather than another. Hazael had
P EIIL O S O PIEIY OF T TIE MIN D . 61
powers of mind sufficient to enable him to use his authority to
the benefit or the injury of the people. It was his disposition
that led him to those acts of barbarity which the prophet pre-
dicted. And we shall find it to be true universally, that whenever
we would form an opinion as to the conduct which we are to
expect from any one, we make it our chief object to determine
what his disposition is.
I have intended to say nothing on this subject which would
militate against the Well known fact, that in many cases, a man’s
feelings and actions are at variance with the disposition which he
formerly had. His disposition may have changed ; and his new
disposition may as strongly prompt him to a new course of affec-
tion and conduct, as his former disposition prompted him to his
former course. This is the case with every one who is renewed
by the Spirit of God. Besides; there may be different dispositions
or propensities at the same time, – propensities which may clash
with each other. In this case, one or the other of the propen-
sities will prevail, according to its comparative strength, and the
influence of circumstances. And was it not so with our original
parents : They had evidently possessed from the first, a dispo-
sition to reverence and obey God. But that right disposition had
not acquired confirmation, and was liable to be overcome by other
propensities belonging to their bodily or mental constitution, when
acted upon by temptation, and when the effectual aids of divine
grace were withheld. When our first parents apostatized, what
did they do but follow those propensities of theirs which were
excited and rendered powerful by temptation, their pious dispo-
sition not being sustained and rendered predominant by divine
influence 2 I make no account here of the common difficulties
which pertain to the introduction of evil; nor would I advance
anything confidently on that mysterious subject. All I would
suggest is, that our first parents, when they sinned, did follow
their inclinations, or did act according to their propensities; — not
indeed according to their pious inclination which had previously
governed them, but according to those other inclinations which
had, up to that time, been kept in subjection, but which, under
WOL. W. 6 tº
62 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND.
the influence of temptation, came to oppose and overcome their
disposition to obey God, his effectual grace being withheld. Their
pious disposition was in fact overcome ; and it was evidently
overcome by other propensities within them, acted upon and
strengthened by temptation. From these inferior propensities,
thus excited and rendered predominant, their disobedience flow-
ed.” And what 'intelligent agents, possessed of the same attri-
butes, and being in all respects in the same state inwardly, and
the same circumstances outwardly, would not have acted in the
same manner 2 I hold it to be a truth too plain and certain to
need proof, that causes perfectly alike, acting upon subjects per-
fectly alike, will produce like results.
IV. When we attribute a predominant disposition to a man,
our meaning is, that he has a principle of action which is likely
to continue, and to unfold itself in the same way as heretofore ;
though not that it is absolutely immutable in all possible circum-
stances. Man is subject to change. Our confidence in him must
of course have limitations. But so far as our confidence in any
one goes, it rests on the supposed permanence of his present dis-
position. If we have no reason to think that a man who has
exhibited a right character, will continue to feel and act as he has
done, we consider him as fickle, and unworthy of our confidence.
We never look upon past conduct as evidence of character,
and we scarcely speak of a man as having a character, except
on the supposition that his present state of mind will continue and
will act itself out as it has done. Let a man make ever so clear
an exhibition of love and kindness at the present time; still you
would not confide in him as a friend, and would not ascribe to
him, even now, the disposition of a friend, if you should expect
that the next feelings of his heart would be feelings of enmity.
Without some degree of permanency in a man’s state of mind,
he cannot have what is called character, — cannot be properly
denominated either a friend or an enemy. Whenever any one
is denominated thus, the idea is involved, that, in ordinary cir-
cumstances, he will continue to be what he now is.
* See Dwight's Theology, Serm. 27, 4th head.
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND. 63
It is evident, that the continuance of the same feelings and
actions in any person results chiefly from the continuance of the
same disposition, or state of mind, though I do not by any means
exclude the influence of outward circumstances. But there are
strong reasons against Supposing, that the continuance of the same
kind of affections and conduct is owing principally, much less
entirely, to outward circumstances. One reason is, that we find
the same kind of affections and conduct under a great diversity of
outward circumstances. Tender parents will love their child,
whether he is virtuous or vicious, – whether he affords them
pleasure, or occasions them trouble and Sorrow. They will love
him, whatever their love may cost them. A miser continues to
love his money, whatever changes may pass over him. He loves
it in health and sickness. His heart cleaves to it in the hour of
death, though he knows it can never be of any use to him. The
unrenewed sinner will continue to disobey the divine law, what-
ever motives may be set before him, and in whatever outward
circumstances he may be placed. The true Christian will con-
tinue to feel and act as a Christian. Neither life nor death, nor
things present, nor things to come, can hinder his love to his
Saviour. It is so with the man of true integrity and virtue. No
temptation can prevail upon him to Swerve from uprightness, and
to do a dishonest deed. Now Surely this continuance and
uniformity of feeling and conduct cannot be owing chiefly to
external circumstances. For these circumstances are exceedingly
various; and if they had a governing influence, we should sup-
pose the effects would vary accordingly. To account for the
uniformity of feeling and action which takes place in such cir-
cumstances, we must refer to a uniform and stable cause. And
if this is not found in anything extraneous to the mind, it must be
found within the mind itself. It does indeed appear to be true,
that in all instances in which the feelings and actions are the
Same, there is, in Some important respect, a uniformity of mental
view, and that the uniformity of feelings results from this. But
this very uniformity of mental view, from which uniform feelings
arise, must itself result from a uniform state of mind. The man
64 P HIL O S O PHY OF TEIE MIN D .
who continues to have the same prevailing apprehension of things,
evinces that he continues to have the same prevailing disposition or
state of mind. So it is with the mental view of the unrenewed
sinner, of the Christian, of the miser, of the upright man, and of
all who have a fixed character. .
But there is another reason against Supposing, that uniformity
in the affections and conduct is owing chiefly to the influence of
outward circumstances; namely, that in the same circumstances
the affections and conduct of different men are essentially differ-
ent, and even opposite. Nothing is more common than to find
that, while everything extraneous to the minds of two men is the
same, the feelings which they uniformly have towards a particular
object are different, — those of one, feelings of attachment; those
of the other, feelings of aversion. This difference of emotions, so
constant and uniform, cannot be accidental. It must have a
cause ; and a cause as uniform as the effect. But the cause can-
not lie in the outward circumstances, as they are alike. It must
then be found within. But the minds of both are equally pos-
sessed of reason, conscience, will, self-love, and all the natural
powers and capacities. The cause or occasion of these different
feelings must therefore lie in the habitual disposition or state of
their minds; — a thing obviously distinct from their natural
powers. Two men, one of them a sincere Christian, the other, a
violent opposer of religion, are informed of the conversion of a
sinner. The one is filled with emotions of pleasure; the other, of
displeasure. To what is this owing? Common sense answers, –
to their different dispositions. And the connection between their
prevailing dispositions, and the emotions which arise in their
minds in view of such an event, is so close and certain, that if
you know beforehand what their dispositions are, you are ready to
predict what those emotions will be. You know a man like David
Brainerd, and are fully acquainted with his predominant disposi-
tion. I ask you, what emotions will be excited in his mind, when
the conversion of a sinner, or the success of a benevolent enter-
prise is mentioned 7 You say, emotions of joy. And you ground
this affirmation upon what you know of his disposition, or the
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND. 65
habitual state of his mind. But you know another man, like
Voltaire or Hume. What feelings will he have, when you mention
the same things to him 7 You say, feelings of hatred and scorn.
And you say this, because you know his disposition — his charac-
ter — the habitual state of his mind. You believe that such feel-
ings will flow from such a disposition of mind, as certainly as
that figs will grow from a fig-tree, or as an effect in any case will
flow from a cause. This is a practical principle ; and you act
upon it in the most important concerns. You do not apply to a
man, whom you know to be like the infidel Paine, for money to
send the Bible to the destitute ; because you are satisfied what
feelings such an application would excite in a man of such a dis-
position, and how he would treat you. But there are men, whose
prevailing disposition is manifestly such, that you may be sure
beforehand, that they will have feelings of approbation excited by
any benevolent object, and will take pleasure in doing what they
can to promote it. Thus you act and must act on the belief, that
one man has a disposition or state of mind, which will insure bene-
volent feelings and actions in view of a benevolent object, and that
another has a disposition, from which will arise feelings of an
opposite mature. This principle governs you in all your inter-
course with your fellow-mem. If you give up this principle, your
knowledge of men will be of no use. The principle I have
endeavored to illustrate, is plainly implied in the common concep-
tions which men entertain, and the common language they employ.
Disposition, inclination, bias, habit, propensity, principle, and
other words of like import, are in good use among all men, and
will be so, as long as the world stands. We cannot speak intelligi-
bly without them. And what is called disposition, heart, principle
or habit of mind, will always be referred to as that which chiefly
accounts for the specific emotions arising in the minds of different
men, and for the voluntary actions which they perform. Thus
evangelical men believe, that unholy affections will uniformly arise
in the minds of unrenewed sinners; and will result from their
depraved disposition.
I have said, we cannot speak intelligibly on this subject without
6*
66 P EIIL O S O PHY OF THE MIN D .
the word disposition, or inclination, or some other word of like
import. All men are in the habit of referring to that state
of mind which such a word expresses, as the circumstance
which accounts for it, that particular, specific affections arise in
the mind of any one in view of a particular object. But how
shall we refer it intelligibly 7 We cannot point it out by the word
power, or faculty; because a man's having a power or faculty, as
the words are commonly understood, only renders him capable of
acting, but does not influence him to act in one particular way,
rather than another, or even to act at all. We cannot point it
out sufficiently by the mention of a previous act of the mind;
because we know that, under the influence of new circumstances,
men are often led to a train of feelings, purposes, and actions
different, in some respects, from any which have appeared in them
before. And we never consider a particular act, whether bodily
or mental, as evidence of what a man’s future actions will be, any
further than we can determine what his prevailing disposition is.
In order, therefore, that we may speak intelligibly and truly, we
must have a suitable word. And if there were no such word, as
disposition, inclination, etc., now in use, we should find it neces-
sary forthwith to make a word, for the specific purpose above
mentioned.
In common discourse, and in the Scriptures, the word heart
answers the purpose referred to, as it generally designates the
source of the affections. Thus in Mark 7: 21, “From within, out
of the heart, proceed evil thoughts, adulteries, fornications,” etc.
And if we should use the word affections, to denote the capacity,
power, or capability of the mind, as well as its acts, we should be
supported by good authority. The mind is often said to be
endued with affections, as permanent attributes. And when
we speak of exercising or eliciting, cultivating and improving,
strengthening and elevating the affections; the word is used, in
many cases at least, to point out not so much the actual feelings
of the mind, as its capability or habit of feeling. So it is with the
word passions. So it is with imagination, which sometimes
denotes a power or faculty, and Sometimes an earercise of that
PEIIL O S O PEI Y OF TEIE MIN D . 67
power. So it is even with memory. Though it more commonly
signifies a faculty of the mind; it sometimes signifies the evercise
of that faculty, the same as remembrance. This is true of the
word disposition. It may denote either an actual feeling or emo-
tion towards an object, or the previous aptitude of the mind to the
exercise of such emotion. We are familiar with this variable
sense of the word Will, denoting now the power of the mind, and
now the act. There are many other words which have this two-
fold use. And this is a case in which, generally, we are not in
the least exposed to mistake. For in good writing or speaking,
the circumstances make it manifest, whether a word is intended to
point out a faculty or an act.
The general remarks which have been made on the words dis-
position, propensity, principle, etc., are coincident with the opin-
ions of Edwards and Dwight, who have, in a high degree, the
confidence of the churches. With these authors agree other
standard writers generally. **
In the following quotations, we have the views which Dr.
Dwight very plainly expressed on the subject.
“I do not deny, on the contrary, I readily admit, that there is
a cause of moral action in intelligent beings, frequently indicated
by the words Principle, Affections, Habits, Nature, Propensity,
Tendency, and several others. In this case, however, as well as
in many others, it is carefully to be observed, that these terms
indicate a cause, which to us is wholly unknown, except that its
existence is proved by its effects. We speak of human nature as
Sinful, intending not the actual commission of sin, but a general
characteristic of man, whder the influence of which, he has com-
mitted sins heretofore, and is prepared, and is prone, to commit
others. With the same meaning in our minds, we use the phrases,
sinful propensity, corrupt heart, depraved mind; and the contrary
ones, holy or virtuous disposition, moral rectitude, holiness of char-
acter, and many others of the like import. When we use these
kinds of phraseology, we intend that a reason really exists,
although undefinable and unintelligible by ourselves, why one
mind will, either usually or uniformly, be the subject of holy voli-
68 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND.
tions, and another, of sinful ones. We do not intend to assert,
that any one, or any number, of the volitions of the man whom
we characterize, has been, or will be, holy or sinful; nor do we,
indeed, design to refer immediately to actual volitions at all.
Instead of this, we mean to indicate a state of mind generally
existing, out of which holy volitions may, in one case, be fairly
expected to arise, and sinful ones, in another: such a state as'
that, if it were to be changed, and the existing state of a holy
mind were to become the same with that of a sinful mind, its voli-
tions would thenceforth be sinful; and vice versa. This state is
the cause, which I have mentioned ; a cause, the existence of
which must be admitted, unless we acknowledge it to be a perfect
casualty that any volition is sinful, rather than holy. This cause
is what is so often mentioned in the Scriptures, under the name
of the heart: as when it is said, “The heart is deceitful,” etc. I
have already remarked, that the cause is unknown, except by its
effects.” -
The view of Edwards on this general subject may be learnt
from what he says as to the new principle which is given in regen-
eration. “By a principle of nature in this place, I mean that
foundation which is laid in nature, either old or new, for any par-
ticular manner or kind of exercise of the faculties of the soul; or
a natural habit or foundation for action, giving the person ability
and disposition to exert the faculties in exercises of such a certain
kind. So this new spiritual sense is not a new faculty of under-
standing, but a new foundation laid in the nature of the soul for a
new kind of exercises of the same faculty of understanding. So
that new holy disposition of heart that attends this new sense, is
not a new faculty of will, but a foundation laid in the nature
of the soul for a new kind of exercises of the same faculty of the
Will.” - - p
I might also refer to Abercrombie, and other respectable
writers on mental philosophy, who speak of a right and a wrong
state of mind as antecedent to moral exercises, and as having a
principal influence in determining what emotions shall arise in the
mind.
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND. * 69
&
I shall not here inquire, what views we are to have of the moral
nature and relations of this tendency or propensity of the mind to
sin. For the present I have meant to consider such a propensity
simply as a fact. And respecting this there is a remarkable agree-
ment among men of sense, whether learned or unlearned.
The words, susceptible and susceptibility have of late obtained a
remarkable currency. That we may judge of the correctness of
the prevailing use, it is necessary to determine their exact signifi-
cation. According to Johnson, susceptible means— capable of
admitting ; disposed to admit; susceptibility ; quality of admit-
ting; tendency to admit. Webster defines susceptible thus: ca-
pable of admitting anything additional, or any change, affection, or
ânfluence, — tender, capable of impression. And he gives suscep-
tibility a correspondent sense. When it is said, the mind has
various susceptibilities, the meaning is, that it is capable of various
States of feeling ; capable of evereising, and disposed to evercise,
various emotions; that it has the quality of receiving, or an apti-
tude to receive, various influences or impressions.
In order to a right understanding of this subject, let the follow-
ing things be considered.
First: There is no way to ascertain what susceptibilities we
possess, but by experience ; that is, by being conscious of the sen-
Sations and emotions which actually take place in ourselves.
How could we know that we are susceptible of love and pity, of
anger and revenge, if we had never been conscious of these feel-
ings 7 What reasonable man ever attributes to the mind any
capacity or tendency, which has not been developed by mental
acts : As we think, reason, and remember, we know that we
have corresponding faculties; and as we love and pity, hate and
fear, we know that we have corresponding susceptibilities. How
do we know that we are susceptible of pity ? From the fact that
we have had the emotion. But in what circumstances, or under
the influence of what causes, have we had it 7 I answer; when
we have witnessed or imagined cases of suffering. We have
never had the feeling of pity on any other occasion. We con-
tend, then, that we are susceptible of this feeling in the circum-
70 # PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND.
stances above mentioned, and in no other. Pity cannot be excited,
except by the actual view or the thought of suffering in a fellow
creature. •
Suppose a man placed under all the influences suited to make
him pleased with the melody and harmony of sounds, and con-
tinued through a long life in such circumstances, without the least
emotion of pleasure in hearing the most exquisite music. We
should say, that he is not susceptible of pleasure from music.
Again. Suppose a man, who has long been in a situation most
favorable to the cultivation and development of parental affection,
to be an utter stranger to any feeling of the nature of parental
love. If we should find any one in this state, whether he came
into it by the original structure of his mind, or by the practice of
intemperance and cruelty; we should say, he is “without matural
affection,” he has no susceptibility to parental love.
These examples are introduced to show what is commonly meant
by the word under consideration, and when it is suitable to speak
of a person as destitute of a particular susceptibility. A suscepti-
bility to a particular kind of emotion, is that state or quality of
mind, which gives rise to such emotion, when fit occasions occur.
But when on the fittest occasions, and under all the variety of
circumstances, a person remains a total stranger to it, never hav-
ing anything of that nature arise in his breast; we say, he is not
susceptible of it.
But, suppose another case. Let a man be sick of a malignant
fever, and consequently incapable, while in that state, either of
the pleasure of eating, or of any proper appetite for food. If we
should say of such a sick man, that he is susceptible of an appetite
for food and of the pleasure of eating, we should say it hypo-
thetically; meaning that he has a constitution from which such an
appetite and such pleasure will arise, when he is in a sound and
healthy state. His disease is all that prevents.
All that is necessary in Such cases, is, to keep in mind the con-
ditions on which the particular feelings or actions referred to, de-
pend, or the circumstances which are indispensable to their exist-
ence; and when we would express ourselves with exactness, to
ascribe the susceptibility to a man, on those conditions.
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND. 71
These remarks will aid us in answering the question, whether
man, in his fallen, unsanctified state, has all the moral suscepti-
bilities which belonged to him originally in his state of innocence,
and which would belong to him now, if he should be sanctified;
or, to be more specific, whether man, while he continues unrenew-
ed, is susceptible of love to God, and other holy affections. Those
who hold the doctrine of total depravity are agreed in believing,
that man, while unrenewed, is wholly destitute of holiness; that
however favorable the circumstances of his education ; however
numerous and powerful the motives to piety which are held up be-
fore his mind, and with whatever skill and fidelity they may be
presented, and however long the trial may be continued; he will
never, while unrenewed, have any holy affection. Now this being
held by all concerned, what difference can remain except as to the
use of words : The only question would seem to be, whether we
can properly speak of depraved man while unrenewed, as suscep-
tible of holy affection.
Here let it be kept in mind, that we are speaking of man’s
noral state, and are using words in a moral sense. Accordingly
if any one says, that man is susceptible of holy love without the
penewing of the Holy Ghost, his meaning would evidently be, that
man, depraved as he is, may have holy love in his heart without
the Sanctifying influence of the Spirit; and of course, that a man’s
having holy affection is no proof that he is renewed by the Holy
Spirit, and consequently, that man’s being in his natural, unregen-
erate state is no certain proof that he is destitute of holiness.
Now all this is directly contrary to the word of God.
If by man’s being susceptible of holy affection in his unrenewed
state, be meant only, that he possesses all the natural faculties
which are necessary to the exercise of holy affection, and that
nothing more is necessary, but that God should give him a new
heart, or should renew him in the spirit of his mind; — in this
sense he is doubtless susceptible of holy love. But this would be
using the word in an uncommon sense, and in a sense not suited
to the subject. The fact is, that when the word is used in its
moral signification, and it is said, that unregenerate man is really
72 IP EIIL O S O PEIY OF TEIE MIN D .
susceptible of love to God, it is implied, that he may have such
iove in his unregenerate state, and even that he has a tendency,
or an aptitude, to holy love. This obvious implication of the word
is a sufficient reason why we should not affirm, without qualification,
that man in his natural state is susceptible of holy affection, —
that he is as susceptible of it as one that is renewed. Does not
any such representation as this tend to make the impression on
the minds of men, that there is no essential difference between the
moral state of the regenerate and the unregenerate, and thus to
set aside the necessity of a moral renovation by the special influ-
ence of the Spirit.
N U M B E R III.
THE language Sometimes used in books and in common discourse
implies, that man is entirely under the control of his will; that his
volitions guide and regulate all his bodily and mental powers.
According to this representation, the will possesses the chief attri-
bute of a despot, and man is very much in the condition of a slave.
Be it so, that the master that governs him is his own will. If the
power of that will is absolute, and subject to no limitation or check
from truth or reason, who can be sure that it will not exercise as
severe and merciless a despotism over him, as any power extra-
neous to his mind 7 And would not any man think it a less
calamity to be subject to an unreasonable despotism that is distant,
than to one that is always near; to a despotism without, than to
one that is within 3 *
It is my present object to ascertain what is the fact respecting
the power of the will. The office of the will must be considered
an important subject in mental philosophy; it is important too in
a practical view. For if any one attributes to his will an agency,
PEIIL O S OP HY OF TEIE MIND . 73
either more or less extensive than actually belongs to it, he will
be liable to serious mistakes in the regulation of his own mind and
conduct.
The kind and extent of power belonging to the will must be de-
termined by an appeal to our own experience and consciousness.
No hypothetical or a priori reasoning can be relied upon. We
ought never to inquire what power we should suppose the will
would have, or what power it must have, in order to make man a
responsible agent. Any such inquiry might lead us to conclusions
materially at variance with the truth. Our whole inquiry is, what
do we learn from consciousness and experience 7 Accordingly,
every man is qualified to investigate the subject under considera-
tion as far as his own experience extends. There may be ques-
tions relative to the power of the will, on which a person of little
experience, or one who has not been duly attentive to the opera-
tions of his own mind, will not be able to form a correct judgment;
as a man is incompetent to judge respecting the operations of the
magnetic or the electrical power, in any cases which have not
fallen under his notice. Suppose now a question arises respecting
the power of the will in cases in which I have had no experience,
or in which I have neglected to learn the proper lessons of expe-
rience. Here I am an incompetent judge; and if I would form
a just opinion, I must avail myself of the requisite knowledge by
referring to the experience of others. This view of the subject is
of special importance, and is suited to check the overweening con-
fidence of some who have had but a limited experience, and have
withal been too little observant of the operations of their own
minds.
I will endeavor to remember these remarks myself; and though
I must of necessity proceed in this discussion primarily on the
ground of my own experience, I will readily admit, even at my
advanced age, that my experience may be defective. The vol-
untary power belonging to me may not have been So perfectly
developed, as in some others; or if it has been, I may have failed
to notice its developments so carefully, or to recollect them so
exactly, as others. And it may be suitable for every man to
WOL. W. 7
74 PEIIL O S O PHY OF THE MINI).
admit that the faculty of will, as found in him, may have less
original power, and less acquired expertness, than in others, so
that no one may be able to come to a right conclusion on every
part of mental science, without availing himself of the experience
and consciousness of his fellow-mem. This is the case we well
know, in all parts of physical science. How long and attentively
soever any man may have observed the course of events in the
natural world; he will find himself, in many cases, totally unable
to judge from his own personal knowledge, what the laws of mature
are, and so will be obliged to supply the defects of his own expe-
rience by the experience of others. In the study of natural
science, men do this constantly, and why is it not the dictate of
modesty, and of wisdom too, that something like this should be
done in relation to our present subject? If the facts which have
occurred in our experience, are not sufficient to teach us the whole
extent of power belonging to the will, why should we not gladly
avail ourselves of any well attested facts which have occurred in
the experience of others ?
It will be kept in mind, that I use the words will and volition
in the restricted and exact sense in which they are used by Locke,
Reid, Abercrombie and others, and in which I have before ex-
plained them.
I shall now pursue the inquiry, what power belongs to the will?
I begin by saying negatively, the will has no power to alter the
laws of mature, either in the material or spiritual world. For
example, gravitation is an established law of all material bodies,
and we have no power by our volitions to set aside or modify this
law, or to direct or vary any events which stand related to it,
except by availing ourselves of its influence. What man in his
senses ever attempts to do this 7 Again, it is a law of mature that
vegetables spring up and grow from seeds, under the influence
of heat and moisture, and that animal life is sustained by food,
and destroyed by continued abstinence, or by poison; and who
has power by an act of the will, to make it otherwise : The same
is true as to the laws of the spiritual world. It is a law of the
mind, that the ideas of sensible objects are first excited by having
PEIIL O S OP EIY OF THE MIN D . 75
those objects presented to the senses; that knowledge, in the
higher sense, is acquired by study; that the regular action of
the mind requires a sound state of the brain, etc. Now we have
no power, by any act of the will, to alter these laws of the mind,
or to produce any mental action, except in conformity with them.
Again, it is found to be a law of the mind, that the affections
are excited in view of suitable objects, and that the influence of
external objects is according to the character and state of the
mind. And who has power to make it otherwise ? What man
of sense will ever attempt to interfere with these settled laws? If
through ignorance we should think we could move our hearts to
love or hate by the mere force of volition, without having a suit-
able object before us, or if we should think that, with an object
in view, we could, by a volition, excite any affections in ourselves,
except in accordance with the character and state of our minds,
we should soon be convinced of our mistake.
These remarks are made to illustrate the position, that we have
no power, by a volition, to contravene the laws of nature, whether
as to matter or mind, and no power to accomplish anything,
except in accordance with those laws. The whole range of our
voluntary agency is confined within these limits.
This brings me to the business of showing, positively, what is
the power or influence which belongs to the will; or more pro-
perly what power we ourselves have by the acts of our will. This
may be briefly described thus. By availing ourselves of the laws
of nature, we can voluntarily produce an endless variety of effects.
In this way we can secure a harvest, promote bodily health, cure
diseases, improve our intellectual and moral faculties, and obtain
the advantages and comforts of life.
It evidently follows, that the greatest extent of voluntary power
requires a complete knowledge of the laws of nature. Knowl-
edge is power only as it enables us to avail ourselves of these
laws. If we are ignorant of them, how can we turn them to any
useful purpose ? Without a knowledge of the laws which regu-
late events in the physical and moral world, we are utterly un-
qualified to act our part as intelligent, accountable beings. With-
!
7
6 P EIIL O S O PEIY OF TEI E M L N 1).
out a good degree of this knowledge, all our efforts would be
made at random, and the result would be altogether uncertain,
and so the motives to exertion would be inefficacious.
Our voluntary power, considered in this light, manifestly admits
of an almost unlimited increase. Take the power we have, by an
act of the will, to direct our attention to one thing or another, and
to fix and detain our thoughts on any particular subject. We are
conscious of possessing this power now in a certain degree. But we
may not be aware to what a vastly higher degree it is capable of
being increased by suitable exertion. The power possessed by such
men as Newton, Locke, and Edwards, to confine their attention
steadily, and for a long time, to a particular subject, and to ex-
clude all thoughts pertaining to other subjects, was acquired by
diligent and continued efforts. Other men may acquire the same.
And if a man had his mind raised to the highest improvement
of which it is susceptible, he would possess this power in such
perfection, that he could, without difficulty fix his thoughts on
any subject he might choose, with the utmost intenseness, unin-
terruptedly, and for such length of time as the case should re-
quire. The voluntary control which we commonly possess over
our thoughts—what is it, compared with that to which we might
attain 7 No man, however conscious of present inability thus to
command his thoughts, has any right to conclude that his inability
cannot be effectually removed by the diligent, persevering disci-
pline of his own mind. It is the same here, as in regard to the
voluntary control, which a man, by long use, acquires over his
bodily motions. No one, however great the activity and adroit-
mess which he has acquired, can say, that he has raised his vol-
untary power to its highest possible limits.
And yet it is a law of our nature, and doubtless a wise and
benevolent one, that this voluntary power should be extended over
a part only of our bodily organs. Our sensations are, in them-
selves, all involuntary. When the proper objects are presented,
the sensations follow without any act of the will. Indeed the will
has no power to prevent them. The action of the heart, of the
blood, and of the digestive organ is also involuntary. The con-
PEIIL O S O PEI Y O Iſ TEI E M IN D . 77
tinued life and growth and health of the body, instead of being
under the control of volition, result from their appropriate phys-
ical causes. Over these causes our will has an influence, though
that influence is very limited. But if the appropriate causes exist,
the effect takes place without any dependence on the will ; while
it is on the other hand equally true that, without those causes,
the will can do nothing towards producing the effect. Who that
has been at all observant of the laws of his nature, ever attempts,
by a direct act of his will to increase or diminish the pulsations
of his heart, the circulation of his blood, or the growth or health
of his body ? All the voluntary power which we possess in these
and many other respects, is indirect, i. e. it operates through the
medium of other things which we can in some measure control.
I say in some measure; because it is evident that our bodily state
is in a great degree dependent on causes over which we have
little or no power. So that it would be contrary to fact to say,
that man has anything like a complete power, either direct or
indirect, over all his bodily organs.
But the most important question still remains, namely, what vol-
untary power we possess over our affections. This must be ascer-
tained in the same way as our power in all other respects, – by an
appeal to our own experience and consciousness. We have already
seen, that the affections are called forth, or excited, by a view of
proper objects. Whether these objects are denominated motives,
occasions, or causes, it matters not. They are the uniform and
immediate antecedents of the affections. No act of the will comes
between the view of a proper object and the excitement of an
affection. Should we attempt to thrust in a volition here, it would
be out of place, and wholly ineffectual. Let an affectionate parent
look upon a dear child who has been long absent. Does his heart
wait for an act of the will to kindle its love 7 Or if for some
reason he should do so strange a thing as to will not to love;
would his heart obey Or if the same parent should hear of
the death of his child, would he wait for an act of the will to
cause sorrow to fill his heart 7 And if he should put forth a
volition not to feel sorrow, would his heart be obedient : The
7.
78 PEIIL O S O PEIY OF TEIE MIN ID .
same as to the pious affections of a regenerate man. When the
glorious character of God is presented to his view, he loves and
adores. He does it at once, without any influence from an act
of the will. Indeed if a man in such a case should find any
occasion for an act of the will to excite his love, it would prove
his heart to be in a bad state. If the goodness of God and its
manifold fruits are contemplated by a man of right spirit, grateful
emotions will spontaneously arise. And if he turns his thoughts
to the evil of sin, his abhorrence will at once be excited. In all
such cases, it is the nature or quality of the object he contem-
plates, and not an act of his will, that excites the emotions. In
other words, the affections of the heart, whether of one kind or
another, do not depend on a volition as their proximate cause, but
on the presentation of a fit object."
If the principles which we have laid down are correct, it will
be easy to settle the question, whether the affections are voluntary.
We usually call those things voluntary, which take place in con-
sequence of a volition, or of which a volition is the uniform and
immediate antecedent. It is not common to speak of anything
as voluntary, because it follows indirectly from a volition, or
because an act of the will has an influence upon it through the
medium of something else. By a voluntary act, Whately says,
“we take a medicine which quickens the circulation of the blood:”
but we do not, on that account, call the quicker circulation of the
blood voluntary. “So also, though we cannot by a direct effort of
volition excite or allay any emotion; we may by a voluntary act, fill
the understanding with such thoughts as will” have this effect. But
is it according to common usage to call such an effect voluntary 2
As the affections are not the immediate or direct result of volition, it
is clear they are not directly voluntary. You may say they are
£ndirectly voluntary, because a volition operates upon them and
controls them indirectly. But even this indirect influence of the
will is by no means essential to the excitement of the affections.
*As the practical views which occupy several pages of this Essay, together
with the quotations from Whately and other writers, are, for substance, contain-
ed in the Lectures on moral agency, they are here omitted.
PEIIL O S O PEI Y OF TEIE MIN D . 79
The affections are not generally excited in this way. For fit
objects or motives are very often brought before our minds, with-
out any volition or thought of ours. But in these very cases, the
affections are of the same nature, and stand in the same relation,
to the objects which excite them, as in other cases. Yet they do
not result from a volition either directly or indirectly. That is,
they are not excited by volition, nor are those objects which do
excite them, brought before the mind by a volition. Any man
who will reflect on his own past experience will find, that in
instances too many to be numbered, those objects have been pre-
sented before his mind, without his choice, and not unfrequently
thrust upon him contrary to his wishes, which have nevertheless
elicited the deepest and strongest emotions.
On this point, are not some distinguished writers chargeable
with an oversight : They allow that the affections are not excited
directly by an act of the will, but by a view of fit objects, in
other words, by proper motives. Still they call the affections
voluntary, and they hold all the moral affections to be so, -
overlooking the obvious fact that, in a multitude of instances, if
not generally, the objects of the affections are brought before our
minds without any volition of ours, and that in such instances no
act of the will has any influence on the affections in one way or
another. This fact however is not to be considered as having any
influence in regard to the nature of the affections.
In a former number I endeavored to show, that the affections
which any one exercises in view of the various objects or motives
which come before him, will be according to his disposition, char-
acter, or state of mind. There is no truth more confidently
believed, or more uniformly acted upon, by men of practical wis-
dom, than this, and none which is capable of more satisfactory
proof from Scripture and common experience. Ministers of the
gospel especially, have it exemplified before them continually in
the different effects which the same truths produce upon men of
different habits or states of mind. But this is a truth, which most
writers on mental philosophy overlook, taking it for granted, that
all men are in such a state that moral considerations or motives,
80 IP IIIL O S () PIHY OF THE MIN D .
if contemplated in earnest, will excite right affections. Dr.
Wardlaw, in his Lectures on Christian Ethics, has clearly shown
how frequently this mistake is chargeable upon the most eminent
Writers on moral philosophy, and what mischievous influence it has
on their reasoning. Abercrombie, also, has distinctly, though
rather incidentally, recognized the principle which I have ad-
vanced, and has shown that he attaches great importance to it.
He says, that “moral causes, that is, truths and motives,” operate
“with a uniformity similar to that with which physical agents
produce their actions upon each other.” But he says, “they
require certain circumstances in the man on whom they are
expected to act.” He then mentions those circumstances. “It
is necessary that a man be fully informed in regard to ” the moral
causes intended ; “that his attention be directed to them with
such a degree of intensity as shall bring him fully under their
influence as statements addressed to his understanding.” Here
many philosophers would stop. But not so this author. He
proceeds to say, that another thing is necessary in order that
truths and motives, however clearly presented and however in .
tensely considered, may produce a right effect upon a man. This
necessary circumstance is, “that there be a certain healthy state
of his moral feelings, – for this has a most extensive influence on
the due operation of moral causes.” The position I maintain is,
that whatever we or others may do to bring motives before us, or
to direct our attention to particular objects, the emotions evcited
will be according to the state of the mind. The objects presented
to view, and other external circumstances which may in many
instances be more or less under the control of the will, are indeed
a part of what may be called the complex cause of the emotions.
But the influence of whatever is external, and even the influence
of our intellectual perceptions and the dictates of conscience will,
after all, be according to the predominant disposition or state of
our mind. If a man of an impure disposition, has certain objects
presented to his eye or his thoughts, either by his own voluntary
act or not, will not impure feelings be excited 7 His willing, in
those circumstances, to be free from wrong feelings and to have
P IIIL O S OP HY OF THE M IN D. 81
right ones, will not control the movements of his heart. With
such objects before him, and such a state of mind, he will have
such emotions. “To the pure all things are pure ; but to them
that are defiled nothing is pure.” Thus we see how it happens
that a man is so often disappointed in regard to his own feelings.
He voluntarily turns his attention to particular objects, or puts
himself in particular circumstances, because, for Some reason, hē
wishes to have certain emotions. But instead of the cmotions
desired, others of a different kind arise, and he thus finds that an
act of his will can have no influence to elicit affections which aré
contrary to the state of his heart. It may sometimes be the case,
that a man of a covetous disposition, may wish and labor to acquire
riches, for the purpose, among other things, of curing his cové
tousness, and making his feelings kind and generous. But he is
disappointed. His riches, when acquired, have no effect but tº
increase his covetous desires. Why is this Because his externãº
circumstances and his own thoughts and wishes, have an influeñés
upon him according to the character or state of his mind. This welf
known principle, this law of our intellectual and moral nature, is
taught in the Scriptures. When Christ says, “a good tree will
bear good fruit, and a corrupt tree corrupt fruit,” and that it
cannot be otherwise, he says it to illustrate the principle that "a
man’s feelings and actions will be according to his mental state '8;
character. We can, indeed, excite a great variety of affectiºns
in ourselves by the exercise of our voluntary agency in the hāfil
ner above described ; but they will all be consonant to oil pré-
dominant disposition. Take the case of confirmed hostility” to
the Christian religion, such as appeared in the leading infidelsöf
the last century. Was it in the power of the most continčing
arguments or the most persuasive eloquence to produce’ in their
hearts, while unchanged by the Holy Spirit, the affection ºf titlá
love to Christ and his religion ? Take the case of an inveteraté
miser. Can you present any motives before him which will prèſ
duce in his heart a sincere affection for the word of Göö, äädiä
readiness to give away his treasures to the destitute 7 'Take the
case of the wicked at the last day. Their attention, will be power!
82 P IIIL O S O PJH Y O F THE MIN D .
fully arrested by the most excellent, glorious, and moving objects.
But they will have no right feeling. Amid all the light and glory
of that day, they will have no emotions but those which corres-
pond with their sinful disposition. Satan is a moral agent of high
intellectual powers. Now suppose he could be admitted into the
heavenly world, and see all that the angels see and enjoy. What
would be his feelings : They would be feelings of hatred, envy,
and remorse. Whence this difference between the feelings of
Satan and the feelings of Gabriel, in view of the same objects 7
Whence, but from their different states of mind 7
The principle which I have endeavored to illustrate, is often
exemplified in the experience of sinners under awakenings of con-
science. They are conscious that their affections towards divine
things are sinful; and from their matural dread of misery and love
of happiness, they in a sense desire such affections as God will
approve, and, for the purpose of producing them, they apply
themselves to a diligent and serious consideration of the character
of God, the merciful interposition of the Redeemer, the holy law,
and the precious blessings of Salvation. But if the renewing of
the Holy Spirit is withheld, they will have no right affections.
Those divine objects which they contemplate, will, through their
perverseness, be the occasion of exciting dislike and opposition in
their hearts, and so prove “a Savor of death unto death.” “He
that loveth is born of God,” and this implies, that he only who is
born of God, loveth. No considerations however mighty, no
motives however powerful and touching, if unaccompanied by the
renewing influence of the Spirit, will ever have power to produce
any right affections in unregenerate men. “Except a man be
born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.” And it is
equally true, that except a man be born again, he cannot have
holy affections; for the want of this is all that prevents his seeing
the kingdom of God. If now we say or do anything to lead sin-
mers to think, that any voluntary agency of theirs, or any power
of excitement or persuasion which they can use with themselves,
or which others can use with them, will ever bring them truly to
love God, or believe in Christ, without the new creating agency
PEIIL O S O PEIY OF T H E MIN D . 83
of the Spirit; we practise a dangerous delusion upon them ; and
in this way, we show too, that we ourselves labor under a great
mistake, and that we forget the desperate wickedness of the heart.
Such is the state of the posterity of Adam, that if they become
holy, their holiness will not be “from the will of the flesh, or the
will of man,” not from any disposition or voluntary agency of
theirs, but from the Spirit of God; and the whole of their salva-
tion will result, not from any works of righteousness which they
have done, but from the purpose and grace of God. Christian
ministers should remember this, and should learn to rely wholly
upon divine power and mercy for the conversion and salvation of
simmers.
I cannot close this number without remarking distinctly on the
mistake of those writers on mental philosophy, who make up their
systems without recognizing the peculiar facts which are disclosed
in the Scriptures, and in the history of the church. No system of
mental philosophy can be considered as complete, which overlooks
any of the principal phenomena which the human mind has
exhibited. But the time would fail me to speak of all those
writers on intellectual and moral philosophy, who entirely neglect
the peculiar mental operations and states so fully disclosed in the
Scriptures, and whose systems are just what they would be, if
man had no natural alienation from God, and just what they
would be, if there were no such thing as conviction of sin, and
regeneration by the Holy Spirit, and a warfare, throughout the
life of Christians, between the law of their sanctified mind and
the law of sin in their members. I shall give a single example of
the fault referred to. Writers very properly notice it as a law of
the mind, that the affections are elicited by a view of proper
objects; and then, without considering that man is morally
depraved, they represent the clear exhibition of divine truth to the
understanding, and the serious consideration of it, as all that is
necessary to call forth right affections, overlooking that special
divine influence, which is the only efficient cause of holiness in the
heart of man. Now this is as palpable a mistake as it would be
in writers on health, to represent that wholesome food is all that
84. IPEIIL O S O PHY OF TEII; MIN D .
is necessary to promote vigor and activity in those who are sick,
If there are any facts which ought to be made prominent in a
system of mental philosophy, Surely they are those which are
made prominent in the infallible word of God. For does not he
who made and redeemed the soul, know what are its powers and
capacities, its dispositions and states, and the laws which govern
its operations : And can any one who believes the Scriptures,
especially any minister of the gospel, deem it proper to disregard
those preéminently important facts which result from man’s apos-
tasy, and from the work of Christ and the Holy Spirit in man’s
salvation ? These facts, and the laws of the mind respecting them,
which are all involved in sound Christian experience, are as cer-
tain and as worthy of consideration in a system of mental
philosophy, as the laws of the understanding, of the memory, of
conscience, or of the natural affections. And a system which
overlooks the former is as defective and as much at variance with
the truth, as one would be which should overlook the latter.
There is no right mental philosophy, but that which has its chief
foundation in the facts revealed in the word of God. The sacred
writers, taught by their own experience, and by the Divine Spirit,
understood the true philosophy of the human mind, and spoke and
acted according to it. And if we would understand it, and apply
it to its proper uses, we must learn to think and reason, to speak
and act, as they did.
N U M B E R IV .
IN the last Article on the Philosophy of the Mind, I inquired
what influence the acts of the will have over the affections. If
the distinction which I have made between the acts of the will and
the affections, is kept in mind, this inquiry will be intelligible and
important. If not, what does it amount to ? If the affections are
considered as acts of the will, then the influence which the acts of
PEIIL O S O PIEIY OF TEIE MIN D . S5
the will have over the affections, is the influence which some acts of
the will have over other acts of the will ; and the influence which
the will itself has over the affections, is the influence which a
faculty has over its own acts. And what is the influence
which a faculty has over its own acts, but simply its putting
forth acts : And what is putting forth acts, but acting? To
say then, that the will exerts an influence over its own acts, is
the same as to Say, that the will acts. If it is anything more, what
is it 2 -
This way of considering the affections as acts of the will, is, as
we have seem, attended with a manifest inconvenience. For if
you call the affections, as well as volitiqns, acts of the will, then
you include under the same head two classes of mental acts which
are essentially different, one class being in themselves morally
good or evil, and the other not. And you yourself recognize the
distinction, when you speak of the affections being influenced by
the acts of the will. For surely you do not mean to speak of the
influence of one thing over another, when both of them are of the
same kind. And if they are not of the same kind, how can we
discourse about them without confusion, if we include thern both
under the same name 7 Those who call the affections acts of the
will are obliged to divide the acts of the will into two classes, and
to mark these classes by distinct epithets, the constant use of
which would be cumbersome. But if you omit them, and call
both classes acts of the will merely, how can you discourse about
them with clearness? I speak particularly of philosophical dis-
course, in which precision and exactness are necessary. The
same as to the word voluntary. If you make it include not only
those bodily and mental acts which follow a volition, but the voli-
tions themselves; you must say in each case in what sense you
use it, or you will expose others to mistake by using it ambig-
uously. You say the moral affections are voluntary. But do
you mean, that the moral affections are consequent upon a voli-
tion ? You reply, no. Why, then, do you use an expression,
which, according to its ordinary meaning, would convey that
sense 7 If you mean merely, that the affections belong to the
WOL. W. 8
86 P EIIL O S O PEIY OF THE MIN D .
Inoral faculty, which has generally been called the will, and if,
when you Say the affections are voluntary, you mean, that they
are of a moral nature, and that we are answerable for them; I
acknowledge that this may be well enough for the purposes of
common discourse among those who understand the word voluntary
as you do. But as most men would understand you to mean, that
the affections move in obedience to a volition, the expression would
generally occasion a mistake.
The reason why it is supposed by many, that we can be
accountable for nothing except what is voluntary, has already been
suggested. In regard to our external, visible actions, and certain
mental actions, it is true, that we are accountable for them only
as they are voluntary, that is, subject to the control of the will.
From these we get an impression that all the actions which we
are accountable for, are voluntary, and under the influence of this
impression, we frame our language, and then apply it to quite
another kind of actions, that is, the affections, and call them volum-
tary, not to denote that they are controlled by a volition, but
merely that they are of a moral nature ; and that we are account-
able for them, as we are for those bodily and mental actions which
depend on a volition. I would not be strenuous about a particular
word. But it is certainly important to avoid ambiguity, and to
mark those things which are different by different words. And as
I have often noticed the confusion of thought which arises from
using the words, will, volition, and voluntary, in a loose indefinite
manner, I shall adhere to the Sense in which these Words have
already been explained, and to which there is a manifest leaning
in the minds of common people.
No doubt some readers have had a difficulty arise in their minds
respecting the position which I have taken. If it be so that our
affections are not under the direct influence of the will, and often
not under even its indirect influence, then how are we accountable
either for the one or the other ?
Here our proper business is to show what is the fact in regard
to the influence of the will over the affections. Is it true, that
we exercise our affections because we will to exercise them, and
PEIIL O S O PIHY OF THE MIN D . 87
as we will to do it 2 If we find it to be the case, that our affec-
tions are thus controlled by a volition, them we will admit the fact,
and make it a part of our system of mental philosophy. But Sup-
pose the fact to be, that our affections are not governed by an act
of the will. Is not this to make a part of our philosophy Ž Or
will you say, that it cannot be so, and that, if we are accountable
for our affections, we must be able to control them by an act of
the will 7 Examine the subject them thoroughly. If after all,
you find the fact to be as I have stated, will you still say, it can-
not be, and if we are accountable for our affections, we must be
able to govern them by a volition ? But suppose you find that
your saying this, will not make it so, and the stubborn fact still
comes out to view, that our affections are not under the control of
volition. What will you do now 7 Will you turn caviller, and
say, why doth he yet find fault 3
While you are contemplating the fact, that the affections are
not controlled by volition, take care not to overlook another fact,
which is attended with the highest kind of evidence, — the fact
that you are a moral and accountable being, and that you are
good or bad, praise-worthy or blame-worthy according as your
affections are. You know this intuitively. Unless your moral
nature is totally perverted, you are as certain of it, as of exist-
ence. And it would be no more unreasonable and foolish for you
to doubt your own existence, than to doubt your moral and
accountable agency. You are in truth a moral agent, and are
accountable for your affections, whatever may be the manner in
which they are excited. The constitution which God has given to
the mind, must be perfectly right, and the very fact above stated,
which is sometimes thought inconsistent with moral agency, is
doubtless essential to it. If the affections, instead of being
excited by suitable objects, were governed by a mere act of the
will, there would be an end of rational and accountable agency.
The ground-work of moral good and evil would be taken away.
In making out a system of mental philosophy, our single inquiry
must be, what is matter of fact 3 How that which we find to be
fact, can be reconciled with moral agency, is another question,
88 PEIIL O S O PHY OF TEI E M IN D .
and no more belongs to us, than the question, how the magnetic
power can be reconciled with gravitation. If, however, any one
takes upon him to assert, that the fact which I have insisted upon
in regard to the affections, is inconsistent with moral agency, it
will be incumbent on him to prové his assertion. And I should
hope, that an attempt to do this would convince him of his mis-
take. Every man is most certainly chargeable with a mistake,
who supposes that perfect moral agency is inconsistent with any-
thing which we find to be a fact in the constitution of the mind.
The laws of the mind are not only consistent with moral agency,
but essential to it. These laws it is our object, as philosophers, to
discover. And if we would be successful in our inquiries, we
must proceed without shackles. We must be governed by no
prepossession. We must have no such impression as this, that the
affections must be governed by the will, or we cannot be moral
agents. An impression like this would certainly prove an embar-
rassment, and would prevent an impartial regard to evidence.
The supposition, that we are more accountable for our volitions,
than for our affections, is wholly unwarrantable. It rests on
the assumption, that our volitions are in themselves moral acts,
and that our affections are not so. But, in truth, what is there in
the class of mental acts called Volitions, which leads you to con-
sider them morally good or bad, more than the other class, called
the affections : Do you say volitions are more properly our own
acts than the affections : But how does this appear 7 “Are not
loving and hating as much our own acts, as willing and choosing :
Do we not exercise as high a degree of activity, in the former, as
in the latter 7 Is there anything in ourselves or in others, which
WG |Thol'é spontaneously pronounce to be right or wrong, praise-
worthy or blame-worthy, than the affections : Some appear to
think, that if we only give the name of volitions, or acts of the will,
to the affections, the difficulty is relieved at once. But does it
alter the nature of mental acts, or make us more accountable for
them, to call them by a particular name : Are not the mental
acts referred to, perfectly the same when you call them affections,
as when you call them acts of the will?
PEIIL O S O PEIY OF TEII; MIN D . - 89
But I must come to the chief object of the présent number;
which is to show, that instead of the affections being under the
direct influence of the volitions, just the opposite is true, namely,
that the volitions are under the influence of the affections; and
that, instead of the affections deriving their moral character from
any acts of the will, all acts of the will derive their moral char-
acter, so far as they have any, from the affections.
To illustrate the first of these points, I shall adduce a few
examples. And if we find what the laws of the mind are in a
few instances, we know what they are in all instances of the same
kind.
I ask then, why does a Christian will or determine, to devote
a part of his property to the cause of benevolence : And why
does a pious youth choose to quit his secular business, and prepare
for the ministry 7 And why does a Christian, when duty requires,
choose to suffer persecution for the name of Christ 7 What is it,
in each of these cases, that influences a Christian thus to will,
and thus to act : Obviously he does it under the influence of his
pious affections. He does it, because he loves Christ and the
souls of men. This is the motive, which leads him to such a
volition. It is equally evident, that a wicked man’s volitions
arise from his affections. Why did Judas will to betray Christ
Because he had a selfish, avaricious, resentful heart. It was fear
which influenced Peter to deny his Lord. Ambition prompts a
Caesar and a Napoleon to engage in War. It is a fact perfectly
familiar to us, that the particular determinations of the will,
whether right or wrong, are influenced by the affections. The
affections including the emotions and passions, are eminently the
principles of action. Without these, how could we act at all?
And without moral affections, how could we perform moral acts, or
have any volitions which are of a moral nature ? If the acts of
the will do not flow from the affections, why may it not be, that
a man who has no love to God, will choose to labor and suffer for
God just as much as if he had love 7 And why may it not be,
that a person whose heart is full of benevolence towards his fellow
men, will choose to treat them, and actually treat them, with
f
8*
90 PIIILOSOPHY OF THE MIND.
unkindness and cruelty, just as though he had the opposite affec-
tion of hatred. If the affections do not govern the acts of
the will, you can never anticipate what your voluntary conduct
will be, from your knowledge of your own heart. If you are a
parent, and have a strong and tender affection for your children,
you cannot conclude from this, that your treatment of them will
be different from what it would be, if your heart were full of
spite towards them. Is it not perfectly clear, that all our expec-
tations as to the voluntary acts of men, proceed on the principle,
that their determinations and consequent actions will be influenced
by their affections 7 And do not all our attempts to influence
their determinations and acts proceed on the same principle :
Do we not always endeavor to move their affections, in order to
influence their determinations : The acts of the will, and the
conduct resulting from them, are the natural utterance of the
heart. They are the way in which the affections act themselves
out. And without this efficacy of the affections, there is no con-
ceivable way in which we can put forth acts of will. If any man
will watch the operations of his own mind, and attend to those
maxims of practical wisdom which flow from experience and obser-
vation, he will find abundant evidence of the principle, that the
affections govern the acts of the will. Whatever external objects
are presented before us, our affections are the real ultimate
motives, which influence us in our volitions. That we have a
motive or reason for our choices, is implied in the fact, that we
are rational ; as it will be seen on a moment’s reflection, that our
willing anything without a motive, (if such an absurdity can be
conceived of,) would imply the want of rationality. This subject
is treated particularly by Edwards in his treatise on the Will;
and his main position in opposition to the notion of a self-deter-
mining power of the will, is supported by arguments, unanswered,
and unanswerable. The principle which I maintain, is clearly
implied in our moral and accountable agency. For we could
never regard a volition, which should take place without any mo-
tive, as either morally good or evil. An essential condition of a
moral act would be wanting. If you require proof of this, I
PEIIL O S O P BIY OF THE MIN D . 91
produce the fact, that there never was a moral agent, whose will
was self-determined in the Sense above suggested. And that
this is a fact, I show by appealing to every man’s experience and
consciousness. If you deny the fact, I shall require you to pro-
duce some instance, in which a moral agent put forth a volition,
or determination of will, without any motive. And if you should
produce yourself, as the moral agent who has done this; I should
regret that you think so meanly of yourself, and should do you
the honor to say, you are mistaken.
If it is necessary to consider this matter further, I would ask .
the reader, whether he would think it a desirable thing to be
able to put forth acts of will which should be wholly uninfluenced
by the affections. Would you regard it as a privilege to will and
to do what is contrary to every affection and disposition of your
heart? Would it gratify you to be so constituted that, while all
your affections move towards God, and delightfully rest in him,
your will might put forth choices in opposition to him, and so lead
you to open disobedience 2 Such might be the result, if your
will should break loose from the control of the affections, and put
forth its acts in some other way. What distraction would be so
dreadful as this 2 To reduce man to such a condition, his rational
and moral constitution must have an unheard of shock. Happily
for us, our intellectual and spiritual constitution is secured against
such a calamity as this, by the appointment and ever-present
agency of the being who made us.
The other point mentioned above, namely, that the character
of every volition depends on the character of the affection from
which it proceeds, is equally evident. If our volitions are the
result of a moral affection, we necessarily consider them of a
moral nature, whatever may be the outward object acting on
the mind. For the outward object can get access to the will and
influence its acts, only through the affections. It is the affection
which comes in contact with the will, and determines the character
of its acts. If the affection which prompts the volitions, is right,
they are right, that is relatively; and a relative rightness is all
they can have. If the affection is wrong, the volitions flowing
02 PEIT L O S O PHY OF T H E M IN D .
from it are also wrong. And when I speak of volitions in this
way, as flowing from the affections, I mean to include the mental
and bodily acts which are connected with the volitions, and which
are, on that account, called voluntary. And on the other hand,
when I speak of these mental and bodily acts, I mean to speak
of them as implying a volition, and as resulting directly from it.
The principle which I here advance, that the character of our
volitions is according to the character of our affections, is nothing
different from the common maxim, that our conduct is right or
wrong according to our motives. For the motives of our conduct
ultimately consist in the affections. This principle is acted upon
continually and instinctively, whether men judge of their own
conduct, or that of others. You see a man contribute to a char-
itable object. You immediately approve of the act. You Say
it is a good deed. Why? Because it appears to spring from a
good motive, that is, a benevolent affection. But if you find that
the action, which appeared so benevolent, really proceeded from
a selfish, base motive ; you change your mind as to the action,
and as to the choice of the will to perform it.' You cannot but
judge of these according to the inward motive that prompted them;
or, to speak more exactly, you cannot but judge of the person ac-
cording to the affection which he exhibits in his conduct. Take
another case. Suppose your first impression is, that a man wills
and acts from a bad motive. You accordingly feel disapprobation.
But if you afterwards discover that you made a mistake, and that
his motive was good, you at once change your mind as to the
character of the volition and act, or rather, as to the character of
the man.
The judgment which we form in such a case, is founded on the
immutable principles of our intelligent and moral mature. We
cannot judge our own volitions, or the volitions of others, to be
either praise-worthy or blame-worthy, without referring to the
governing motive. Every sentiment of approval or disapproval
in regard to the acts of the will looks ultimately to the inward
motive from which they spring. The Scripture confirms the truth
of this position, when it represents love to be the whole of what is
PEIIL O S O P FIY OF THIE M IN D . 93
required of us as duty. Various voluntary actions are indeed re-
quired, but they are required as expressions of love. If any vo-
litions or voluntary acts of ours could be morally right, separate
from affection, how could it be true, that all the law is comprised
in the precept requiring love 7
There are important points of a practical nature, resulting from
the foregoing discussion.
First. In our addresses to our fellow men, we should avoid
every expression which implies, that their affections depend on a
volition, or spring directly from it. This would be inverting the
established order of mental operations. We have seen, too, that
the goodness of our volitions, which is only a relative goodness,
presupposes the goodness of an affection, and flows from it; and
we should avoid every representation which implies the contrary.
Jf we teach, that a sinner's loving God depends on his willing or
resolving to love, or if we exhort him to resolve or determine to
love, as the way in which he is to exercise love; we violate the
order which the Author of our being has established, and attempt
to put a kind of force upon the mind, and to bring it to act con-
trary to its own unchangeable laws. It is under the influence of
this mistake, that persons awakened to serious and anxious reflec-
tion, so often waste their time, and misapply their faculties, in
striving to bring themselves to love God, and to believe in Christ,
by merely willing or resolving to do it. -
If you ask, then, what shall sinners be directed to do? I an-
swer, just what God requires. His commands are perfectly rea-
sonable. They require that, and that only, which it is right fºr
men to do. These commands are to be the matter of our direc-
tions. If God commands sinners to believe in Christ, we are to an–
nounce this command to them, and to direct them and endeavor to
persuade them to perform this duty. If he requires them to love
him with all the heart, we, who are his messengers, are to require
them to do the same. What should we direct them to do, if not
to obey the divine commands 7 Now, if God does not direct sin-
mers to will or determine to love him, as something distinct from
actually loving him, why should we ? Do you ask, how they can
94. P HILOSOPHY OF THE MIN D .
love without first willing or resolving to love Ž It would be more
proper to ask, how they can do it by willing or resolving to do it,
seeing the affection is not excited by the power of a volition. If
we wish to bring men to exercise holy affections, we must exhibit
the proper objects, or present the proper motives of such affec-
tions. And if men are convinced of the importance of right affec-
tions in themselves, and really wish to exercise them, let them fix
their minds intensely upon the proper objects, and diligently con-
template the proper motives, instead of relying upon the direct in-
fluence of an act of the will to excite the affections. If we have
a clear view of spiritual objects, if our attention is duly awakened,
and directed to the great motives to holy love which the word of
God presents, and if the moral state of our minds is right; there
will be no occasion for an act of the will to intervene, in order to
excite our love. A perception of the objects is all that is neces-
sary. As soon as we see the glorious character of God, we love
him. The affection flows forth spontaneously in view of that
object. If, when we contemplate such an object, no love is kin-
dled, and we resort to an act of the will to excite the affection,
we give conclusive proof that our heart is not right. And we
know it would be totally unsafe to rely for the renewal of the
heart either on external motives, or on the power of a volition, as
that great work is effected, not by “the will of the flesh, nor by
the will of man,” but by the Spirit of God.
You may say then, the efforts of ministers to exhibit divine
truth and to persuade sinners to repent, and the efforts of unre-
generate men to bring themselves to repent, are, according to
this view, wholly in vain, and that we are reduced to a state of
inaction and despair. The objection seems to amount to this ;
unless ministers can convert sinners by instruction and persua-
sion, without the effectual operation of God, their labors are in
vain; and unless sinners can convert themselves, or bring them-
selves to repent, by their own voluntary efforts, without the
special influence of the Spirit, they are reduced to a state of in-
action and despair. As to ministers, one word will be sufficient.
If they have received the testimony of the sacred writers, they
PEIIL O S O PHY OF TEIE MIN D . £5
know and feel, that “neither he that planteth, nor he that
watereth, is anything; ” that they cannot, of themselves, turn
sinners to God, and that their labors would forever be in vain,
were it not for the promised influence of the Holy Spirit. It is
their dependence on the special operation of God, that encour-
ages and animates them in their work, and fills them with hope
that their labors will not be in vain in the Lord. As to the ten-
dency of the views which I have exhibited to reduce sinners to a
state of despair, I have but a few things to say here. First, the
requisitions of the law and the gospel are all right, and sinners
ought immediately to comply with them. Secondly, those who
refuse to comply, are wholly without excuse, as there is nothing
which hinders their compliance, but the obstinate wickedness of
their hearts. Thirdly, if instead of requiring holy love, we
should require of them a volition or resolution to love, and if
instead of requiring cordial and holy obedience, we should re-
quire a determination to obey; this would be taking upon our-
selves the fearful responsibility of essentially varying the divine
requisitions; inasmuch as a volition or resolution of sinners to
love and obey is entirely a different act from loving and obeying,
and neither implies love and obedience, nor produces it. If we
direct sinners to such a volition or resolution to love, as the
means of exciting love, we commit an obvious mistake, and in-
volve them in the danger of spending their time in fruitless
efforts to do what they ought to do at once. If their hearts
are right, they will love God, without trying to love. But if
We direct sinners to a volition or determination to love God, as
a substitute for love, and as that which will answer the divine
requisition, for a time at least, without love ; we commit a
still greater mistake, and expose them to still greater dam-
ger.
As to the despair of impenitent sinners which is spoken of,
what is it but an obstimate refusal to obey the holy command
which God gives them, and to accept the gracious offer of eter-
mal life which he makes : They despair, because God will not be
pleased with anything short of what is right, that is, holy obe-
96 PIIIL O S O PEIY OF THE MIN D .
dience. They say, require anything of us which we can do in
our unregenerate state, and we will do it. With such a heart as
we have, and from a regard to our own happiness, we can wish
and resolve to repent and to love God. And this we do. But
if you say, this will not answer, and insist upon our exercising
holy affection, which we cannot do in our unregenerate state ;
you reduce us to a desperate condition, and we know not what
course to pursue. Permit me to say in reply, that the condition
of sinners, is in fact a dreadful one, and so far as relates to any
thing which they, of themselves, will ever do to obtain salvation,
it is desperate. And the Sooner they are made sensible of this,
the better; so that they may give up every hope, except in the
sovereign mercy of God, and may find rest to their souls by
trusting in an almighty Saviour. We cannot vary the di-
rections which Christ and his apostles give to sinners, and
which require them to love God and obey his word without
any delay. We cannot accommodate our instructions to the
depraved hearts of men; nor can we admit, that their depravity
is any kind of excuse for their refusing to repent and obey the
gospel. And we cannot substitute any volition or resolution
arising from a selfish heart, in the place of that love which God
requires. Instead of contenting ourselves with requiring of
sinners any act which is destitute of holiness, because they are
destitute of holiness, we must in the name of God, enjoin upon
them the duty of becoming holy; not the duty of resolving to
love God and believe in Christ, but the duty of actually loving
and believing ; and must charge them with being highly criminal,
and altogether inexcusable, if they do not immediately perform this
duty. And we must tell them, and endeavor to make them
feel, that just so far as they find it difficult or hard to love
God, or to believe in the Lord Jesus Christ, they show them-
selves to be exceedingly sinful, and deserving of the divine dis-
pleasure. And it seems to me unquestionable, that what we do,
by giving instruction and by urging gospel motives, for the
direct purpose of bringing sinners to repent, to believe, and to
love, will be much more likely to accomplish the great object
PEIILO S O PIEIY OF THE MIN D . 97
aimed at, than any efforts we might make to excite them to the
performance of those acts which fall short of repentence, faith
and love.
Secondly. The principle which I have maintained respecting
the influence of the affections over the acts of the will, furnishes
an easy and Satisfactory explanation of what the Scripture says
as to the bondage of sinners, and what the old writers say as to
the slavery of the will. The sacred writers represent, that the
wicked are in a state of servitude, and that none are free, but
those who belong to the kingdom of holiness. To be in a state of
servitude or bondage in the Scripture sense, is to be under the
dominion of sin, to be governed by depraved affection. To be
jree, is to be free from the bondage of sin, and be under the
dominion of holiness. The old divines spoke of freedom and
bondage in the same sense. And unless you keep this in mind,
you will be liable to mistake the meaning of many of the best
writers of former days. When they asserted that since the fall,
the human will is deprived of its freedom, and is under bondage,
they meant something very different from what is meant at the
present day, when it is asserted that free will belongs to all
men alike, whether good or bad. Freedom of will, as now com-
monly understood, is an essential property of a moral agent. But
freedom of will was formerly understood to be the property of
those only who are the followers of Christ, and denoted freedom
from the dominion of corrupt affection. In the controversy which
took place respecting free will in the time of Luther and Calvin,
and afterwards, those who maintained the freedom of the will,
denied the natural and entire depravity of man. They held that
the will is not naturally under a wrong bias, not subject to a
sinful heart. Those who denied the freedom of the will, held
that man is by nature depraved, that all the acts of his will,
while unregenerate, are influenced by his corrupt heart, and that
none enjoy freedom from the slavery of sin, but those who are
brought into “the liberty of the sons of God.” According to
this use of the words, which fully corresponds with the Scripture
use, our Saying that the will of every natural man is enslaved,
WOI. W. 9
Af
98 PEIIL 0 SO PHY O F THE MIN D .
would mean, not merely that his will is governed by his affections,
(which is common to all whether good or bad,) but that it is
governed by sinful affections. And our saying that the will of
those who are holy is free, would mean, not that their will is free
from the dominion of the affections, (which is not the case with
any,) but that it is free from the dominion of sinful affections.
And it is certainly with very good reason, that the degraded state
of those who are in subjection to depraved affection, is called
bondage and slavery; and that the happy state of those who are
delivered from the dominion of depraved affection, and whose will
is brought under the dominion of holiness, is called freedom and
liberty.
Finally ; as it appears that the determinations of the will, and
of course all the voluntary actions, are governed by the affections,
and as the state of the affections is the basis and the substance of
character; we see how indispensable it is, that we should have
the renewing of the Holy Ghost. The great and essential work
of the Spirit is, to rectify the state of the affections, to renew the
heart. This work is not effected by any efforts of our fellow-men,
nor by any acts of our own will. It is specially, prečminently
the work of the Holy Spirit. Thus we see that the philosophy of
the mind, rightly understood, teaches the same humiliating truth
with the Scriptures, – that we are in a state of moral ruin, utterly
lost, and that there is no help for us but in God.
N U M B E R. W.
HOW THE AFFECTIONS ARE INFLUENCED BY PREVIOUS AFFECTIONS.
I HAVE already endeavored to show, what influence the will has
upon the affections, and the affections upon the will. I shall now
attend to the manner in which our affections are influenced by
antecedent affections.
PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND. 99
It is indispensable to the right understanding of this subject, as
well as of many other subjects in mental philosophy, to consider,
that the operations of the mind generally result, not from any one
cause exclusively, but from various causes combined. We are
taught by experience, that a particular operation or state of mind
follows a particular cause; and to this cause we are accustomed
to refer it. And it may be that this cause has not only a real
and uniform influence, but a chief influence. And we may direct
our attention to this influence only; and so may be ready to con-
clude, that nothing else has any influence in causing the mental
operation or state. Whereas, a further consideration of the sub-
ject may show, that this operation or state results from a variety
of causes, Some near and some remote.
It seems hardly necessary to remark, that when we use the
words cause and effect, and other words of similar import, in rela-
tion to the mind, we are to give them a meaning correspondent
with the nature of the subject. It is perfectly according to com-
mon usage, to apply these words to the mind as well as to the ma-
terial world, although not in precisely the same sense. And why
should any one suppose, that it is not as admissible to make this
use of the words cause and effect, as to take any words which have
been applied to body, and apply them to mind 7 Who would ob-
ject to our using the word move, and its derivatives, to denote an
influence exerted on the mind, because they also denote an influ-
ence on matter? An adherence to such a principle would lead to
an entire revolution in our modes of speech, and would divest lan-
guage of its greatest beauty and force. Be it so, that the use of
words for which I now contend, is metaphorical. It is not, there-
fore, any the less just and suitable. The propriety of such a use
of the words cause and effect appears in this, that there is as real
and uniform a relation between cause and effect in mental science,
as in physical. A cause is that from which an effect flows, - that
which has an influence to produce an effect. An effect is that
which flows from something else as its cause, or is produced by
the influence of a cause. Now, that which we call a mental or
moral cause, has an influence as real and certain as a physical
100 PEIIL O S O PHY OF TEII; MIN D .
cause, although the nature of the cause and effect in the one case
is exceedingly different from what it is in the other. Do you say,
there is so wide a difference in the nature of what we denominate
cause and effect in the two cases, as to expose men to mistake, if
we cmploy the same words in both 2 The difference, I admit, is
obvious and entire. And this very circumstance is sufficient to
prevent all mistake.
We sometimes speak of cause and effect in a mixed sense, -a
mental cause being connected with a bodily effect, and a bodily
cause with a mental effect. Numberless phenomena of this kind
are involved in the connection of body and mind. There is a
mutual influence. A volition, which is a mental act, causes a
bodily act; and an affection of the body often causes a mental
act.
We now proceed to the subject introduced above, namely, the
manner in which our present affections are influenced by those
which occurred in past time. g
One way in which a previous affection has an influence upon
present affections, is by being distinctly recollected. When brought
by an act of memory before the mind as an object of contempla-
tion, it becomes, like any other object of attention, a means of
exciting present affections. It is, however, only one of the means,
— one of a variety of things which operate as causes of present
affections. Those very emotions which arise in view of a past
affection, may result in part, and even chiefly, from other causes.
And those other causes may greatly modify the appropriate influ-
ence of the recollected affection; so that the emotion which that
recollected affection produces, may be very different from what it
would be, if that were the only cause concerned. The cause which
operates in this case, is a complea, cause, and the principal part of
it is the state or habit of the mind. Indeed, the recollection of
past affection may rather be considered as the occasion of bringing
out the affection which naturally results from the state of the
mind. It is this which determines the particular influence of the
external motive. If an intelligent being has a holy state of
mind, it is the law of his nature, that in all ordinary circum-
* &
PEIIL OS O PHY OF THE MIND. 10:
stances, outward objects will excite holy emotions; and that if he
has an unholy state of mind, outward objects will excite unholy
emotions. So in the natural world. Heat will harden or soften,
according to the nature of the substance on which it acts. This
general principle is as true in mental science as in physical;
although the causes and effects in the one are, in their nature, so
different from what they are in the other. The relation of our
affections to the divine law, and our being worthy of praise or
blame on account of them, does not imply that they arise in the
mind without appropriate moral causes. & -
It is not meant by any of the remarks above made, that the
affections always flow on in an unbroken series, and that no cause
whatever can interfere to prevent this; for, although the state of
the mind and the outward objects commonly acting upon it, matu-
rally tend to this result, there may be extraordinary causes which
will mingle their influence with these, so that the series of similar
emotions will be broken, and those of a different kind excited.
For example, a moral agent, under the influence of strong tempta-
tions, changes from holiness to sin; and a sinner, under the
special influence of the Holy Spirit, becomes holy. But the
occurrence of these changes under the operation of extraordinary
causes does not prove, that a continuance of the same affection is
not likely to result from the ordinary causes above mentioned,
namely, the state of the mind and outward motives. Nor does it
prove that these ordinary causes may not, in due time, become so
powerful, as to preclude any change in the character of the affec-
tions. Unquestionably this will be the case both with the holy and
with the unholy in the future state.
In the second place, the affections we exercise have an influ-
ence in regard to subsequent affections, by means of their influ-
ence on the state or habit of the mind; or, upon the mind’s apti-
tude to the exercise of particular affections. That there is such
an aptitude or tendency of the mind to put forth certain emotions
rather than others, under the influence of the same external
objects, is a fact well known. This aptitude shows its highest
power, when a particular object excites an affection most readily,
9*
102 PHILOSOPHY OF THE MIND.
Inost frequently, or most strongly. The natural tendeněy of any
affection which is exercised, is to increase the aptitude of the mind
to the exercise of the same affection. This tendency may be coun-
teracted, or its effect varied, by other causes. But every exercise
of mind, taken by itself, plainly has this tendency. Thus benevo-
lent emotions give the mind a greater aptitude to the same emo-
tions. The consequence of every act of love to God, supposing us
free from all opposite influences, is, that we shall be more apt to
love him hereafter. It is on this principle that Christians grow in
grace. Every exercise of holy love has a good influence upon
their character, in proportion to the purity and strength of the
exercise. A few holy exercises, in which all the intellectual and
moral energies.are roused to intense action, contribute more to the
growth and confirmation of a holy principle and habit, than
thousands of exercises which come from a divided or sluggish
heart. The same is true of malevolent affections. The emotions
of anger and revenge naturally tend to increase the aptitude of
the mind to the same emotions; and this effect will be in propor-
tion to the strength and violence of the antecedent emotions.
But this natural tendency of our affections, like that above
mentioned, is frequently modified by other causes. A particular
affection may be attended with such circumstances, that it will
be followed by a less aptitude to the same affection than existed
before.” -
A due consideration of the statements above made will help us
to account for that low, earthly state of mind, that spiritual blind-
ness and death, which Christians so often have occasion to deplore.
This state is to be considered in connection with its causes. It is
in a great measure to be traced to what has been faulty in us in
times past. Every sinful feeling which we have heretofore exer-
cised, has left its stamp upon our hearts. That moral state which
we lament, is to be regarded as resulting chiefly from the general
current of our moral feelings in past time. Every vain thought,
every proud, resentful, or unkind feeling, every corrupt desire,
* Several illustrations of this principle, together with its practical uses, are here
omitted, as they are for substance contained in the Lectures on moral agency.
PEIIL O S O PIEIY OF TEI E M IN D . 103
§
which has lodged within us, has had an influence not limited to the
time when it took place, but reaching to all following time, and
helping to constitute our permanent habit. Thus our present con-
dition may truly be regarded as a kind of index to the antecedent
states of our mind, – the sum of the impressions made upon us
by the affections we exercised the previous moment, the previous
hour, and day, and month, and year, and all previous time. How
often have we learned by experience, that our feelings through the
week have an effect upon us on the Sabbath, and our feelings on
the Sabbath, through the week? How evident it is that the
thoughts and feelings indulged in childhood and youth have an
effect upon character, in manhood, and even in old age | The
wrong states of mind of which we are at present conscious, and
which may sometimes appear unaccountable, are, in many cases,
owing to what took place ten, twenty, or even fifty years ago.
And it is not to be doubted, that the state in which the wicked
will find themselves in the future world, will be the fair result of
all their dispositions, thoughts, affections, and actions, during the
time of their probation. With what awe should we be inspired,
when we contemplate this constitution, which God has given to our
immortal minds ! With what fear and trembling should we con-
sider the fact, that an unholy affection, exercised in early child-
hood, will be followed by a sinful, impenitent life, and a sinful and
miserable eternity, unless the grace of God interpose to turn things
from their natural course.
R. E M A R K S ON CA U S E AND EFFECT. #
I HAVE read with no ordinary interest, the Essay in the last
number of the Repository “on Cause and Effect, in connection
with Fatalism and Free Agency. The Editor says, the name of
the writer is withheld, on account of very peculiar circumstances.
As there are no such circumstances in my case, I shall offer
remarks on the Essay in my own name. The writer of the Essay
may be one, for whom I entertain a very sincere esteem and affec-
tion. I choose to think that he is so ; and it will be most agree-
able to my feelings to proceed in my remarks with the apprehen-
sion distinctly in my mind, that the anonymous author of the
Essay, who has given such evidence of ability to write well, pos-
sesses also a sincere love of the truth, a full conviction of the
narrow limits of human intelligence, humility, candor, reverence
for the Scriptures, and every other quality which belongs to the
Christian character. Such an apprehension may have a salutary
influence upon what I am to write, and it will at least render my
employment in writing pleasant.
After all, my concern will be with the subject. And while 1
shall take the liberty to call in question some of the principal posi-
tions which I find in the Essay, it will be my endeavor to guard
scrupulously against everything which would be unjust or disre-
# First published in the “Am. Bib. Repository,” 1840, in reply to “An Essay
on Cause and Effect in connection with Fatalism and Free Agency.” See Ann
Bib. Rep. for Oct. 1839. -
C. A U S E AN ID EFFECT . 105
spectful to the writer. Indeed I shall refer to the Essay chiefly
as an occasion of introducing several topics, which require special
attention at the present day.
As the subject under consideration is of a philosophical or meta-
physical nature, the following remarks are intended for those, who
have a capacity for metaphysical inquiries, and who have so far
attended to matters of this kind, that they are prepared to begin
where the present discussion begins, without any pains on my part
to explain the common principles of mental science. :
But I should hardly deem it proper to busy myself in preparing
remarks upon the topics here introduced, were it not that they
have a bearing upon some very important principles of reve-
lation. & *
Let it, however, be remembered, that our mode of thinking on
this subject cannot alter the facts in the case. If all the men in
the world should happen to think, that our being wniformly influ-
enced in our volitions by motives, and our choosing invariably
according to the strongest motive, is inconsistent with free moral
agency, it would not make it so. Should they be ever so confi-
dent, that moral necessity, as explained by Edwards, Day, and
others, is the same as fatalism ; still it would not make it the
same. If it is a law of our nature, that our volitions invariably
follow that which is, on the whole, the strongest motive ; then,
whatever may be our speculations, this law will stand and we
shall conform to it in practice, and shall choose and act under the
influence of the strongest motive, without the least infringement
of our rational or moral freedom. I think the writer of the Essay
does himself act on this principle, though against his speculative
theory. There were reasons, I suppose, for and against his pub-
lishing his Essay; and probably he will find, on reflection, that
these reasons were very carefully weighed, and that the most
important reasons finally prevailed. So also there were, doubtless,
reasons for and against his giving his name to the public. But
the special reasons which he had against it, were unquestionably
the most weighty in his mind; otherwise, I could not account for
it, that he deliberately chose concealment. And who can doubt,
106 C AlJ S E A N D EFFECT .
that in all important cases which shall occur hereafter, he w ll
thus weigh the reasons for different determinations, and decide
according to that which is, in his view, the strongest. And I am
greatly mistaken, if he ever finds, that choosing and acting inva-
riably according to this principle, will interfere at all with his free
agency, though his theory might lead him to think that it would.
Rational beings will choose and act according to the laws of their
intelligent and moral mature, whatever speculative theories they
Jmay form in their waking or sleeping hours. The laws of the
mind are too firmly established to be shaken by our motions.
I am gratified that the author of this Essay, and some other
late writers, make a distinction between desire and volition. It is
a source of no small confusion in Edwards's Treatise on the Will,
that he considers all the affections and desires as acts of the will.
It is, however, manifest, that Edwards himself departs from this
large Sense of the word, and brings out the distinction which is
now contended for, whenever he speaks of the desires or affections
of the mind as among the motives to volition. For surely the mo–
tive to volition, and volition itself, cannot be the same thing.
I am gratified also, that the writer says distinctly, what Locke
and others have been careful to say before, that “the Will is not
a separate existence, to which qualities and actions can be
ascribed. It is the mind itself which is moved by desire or mo–
tive, and the Will is the power which the mind has to choose which
of several coéxisting desires shall be gratified.”
The writer says; “The point at issue is simply this: Is volition
connected with a previous desire or motive as a producing consti-
tutional cause 7” The affirmative he thinks is fatalism, the
negative, the doctrine of free agency.
The writer takes commendable care to inform us very definitely,
what he means by a “producing cause,” and how we are to dis-
cover its existence. He maintains, that according to the doctrine
of free agency, “there is no invariable rule of volition,” — “no
fived connection between any class of desires and volition; “that
“ desires or motives are only the occasional causes, which enable
the mind to exercise its inherent power of action, itself being the
C A U S E A N D EFFIECT . 107
producing cause of its own volitions.” He says too, “the only
method of proving anything to be a producing cause is to show,
that, in given circumstances, there is an invariable rule of change,
so that when a cause is put in these circumstances, a certain
change invariably follows. It is the unfailing constancy of the
result, that enables us to detect the real producing cause. The
philosopher, in experimenting to detect causes, is continually seek-
ing to learn which one of the various circumstances cannot have
a substitute, – which must be invariably an antecedent.” He
says the same again. “The only method of proving a thing to
be a producing cause, is to establish the fact that it is an invari
able antecedent.”
Our author makes his meaning still more evident by his quota-
tions from Priestley, and the use he makes of them. Priestley
says, in common with Edwards, and other distinguished writers:
“There is some fixed law respecting the Will; —it is never de-
termined without Some motive of choice ; and motives influence
us in some definite and invariable manner, so that volition or choice
is constantly regulated by what precedes it. And this constant de-
termination of the mind, according to the motive presented to it,
is all I mean by necessary determination. Through all nature,
the same consequences invariably result from the same circum-
stances.” Now our author says, “no intelligent defender of free
agency will admit this.” And his object in quoting it is to show
what he means by fatalism. If we assert, that volition is inva-
riably preceded by the strongest motive, or by that which, at the
moment of choice, “seems most agreeable,” he says we are
fatalists.
To this allegation of the author I now invite the reader’s atten-
tion.
I cannot but notice, that the author here and there gives an
incorrect statement of the question at issue. He represents the
doctrine of moral or philosophical necessity as implying, that
“there is a particular kind of motive which is the invariable
antecedent of volition.” He says: “every one allows that mo–
tives of Some sort are invariably antecedents to volition. This is
108 * C. A U S E A N D EFFECT .
taken for granted ; and then the admission is used as if it were
conceded that a particular kind of motive were the invariable
antecedent. As if a man should claim, that sowing of some sort
is always an antecedent to all kinds of harvest, and when this is
allowed, should assume that the sowing of wheat is the invariable
antecedent of all kinds of harvest.” But neither Edwards nor
any other respectable writer ever maintained such an opinion,
or reasoned in such a manner. No one can believe what is so
obviously contrary to experience, as this, that volition uniformly
follows a particular kind of motives. One particular kind of
motives consists of those which are derived from the appetite of .
hunger and thirst ; another kind, of those derived from the sense
of hearing; another, from the Sense of Seeing; another from a
regard to property; another from the love of promotion or praise;
another, from love to God. The particular kinds of motives are
past numbering. Now who ever entertained the idea, that our
volitions are all influenced by a particular kind of motives 7 It
is as unnecessary for the author to disprove this, as to disprove the
other thing he mentions, namely, that Soving wheat will produce
all kinds of harvest.
The author speaks as though a particular kind of motive and
the strongest motive were one and the same thing. He says,
“as if it were conceded that a particular kind of motive (i. e. the
strongest,) were the invariable antecedent.” But the strongest
motive is sometimes of One kind, and Sometimes of another. To
one man the love of honor is the strongest motive ; to another
man, the love of wealth, to another the love of Christ. In many'
cases, various kinds of motives are combined to make the strongest.
Now it is matter of Wonder to me, that the author should think
he is opposing a position which any one has maintained, when
he affirms again and again, “that there is no particular class of
motives which are invariable antecedents to volition,” and that
we have power to choose and do choose Sometimes in One way,
and sometimes in another way; that is, Sometimes according to
one class of motives, sometimes according to another. Nothing
is more certain, than that we do choose in these different ways.
C. A U S E A N D EFFECT . 10.)
And why Ž Is it not because sometimes one particular class of
motives is the strongest, and sometimes another class 7
The author says, “The point at issue is simply this: Is volition
connected with a previous desire (or motive) as a producing
cause 7”— which seems to imply that desire and motive are words
of equal import, or that all motive consists of desire. But the
point at issue might be more properly stated thus: whether voli-
tion is connected with a previous desire, or any other motive, as
its invariable antecedent or cause.
The author seems to suppose that the asserters of moral
necessity hold, that all the changes in the mind are caused by
something ab extra ; and in opposition to this notion, refers to the
eternal mind, which before creation acted without any ab extra
cause. But the doctrine of Edwards and others agreeing with
him, is not that the changes or acts of the mind result wholly
from causes extraneous to the mind. By motive Edwards means
“the whole of that which moves, excites, or invites the mind to
volition;” including not only “the views of the mind, but the state,
frame, temper or habit of the mind.” These do indeed, generally
at least, refer to things without the mind. But mental acts are
prompted mainly and ultimately by what is within the mind. An
apostle teaches that a man is tempted and drawn into sin by his
own unholy desire, (James 1: 14, 15). And is not affection to
Christ and the desire to please him the great motive to obedience
with every believer ? And how can we form any other conception
of God, than that he chooses and acts from his own perfections;
that before anything else existed, he had a reason or motive for
his determinations and actions in the wisdom, righteousness, and
goodness of his own nature. No one can doubt that the mind
itself is, in the strictest sense, an agent; that it has inherent
powers of action ; and that it really exerts its powers in a great
variety of volitions and other exercises; and that the grand ulti-
mate motive, by which it is influenced to all these is within
itself; that is, its own dispositions, desires, habits, etc. We all
hold to this, so that it is unnecessary to spend time to prove it.
But it is time to proceed to the prominent principle of the Essay.
WOL. W. 10
sº
110 C. A U S E A N D E E E E CT.
I shall first inquire how far the author contributes to overturn
his own system. For whatever he does towards this result will
prevent the necessity of labor on my part.
The author expressly admits “that mind never will choose, ex-
cept to gain Some good;” “that motives of some kind are indis-
pensable antecedents of volition;” that “every one allows that
motives of some sort are invariably antecedents to volition.” Here
then is one of the laws of our intelligent nature. Motives of some
sort are invariable and indispensable antecedents to volition. This
is a point in which we are all agreed. Wolition cannot take place
without a motive. How great soever the inherent power of the
mind, and how various soever the acts of which it is capable; here
is a manifest limitation of its power. A man has no power to put
forth a volition without a motive. To choose in this way would
be contrary to the nature of the mind. Though our author says
in some parts of his Essay that “there is no invariable rule of vo-
lition;” he could not but see and acknowledge, that there is, this
one invariable rule. Now does he, or any other candid person,
complain of this invariable rule of volition ? Does he complain
that the mind is tied up to this constitutional principle, – that it
must, in all its choices be influenced by motives? But what fol-
lows from the admission of this principle : It follows that motive,
motive of some sort, is what he calls “the producing cause of
volition.” For he says again and again, that “the only method
of proving a thing to be a producing cause, is to establish the fact,
that it is an invariable antecedent.” Here we have an invariable
antecedent, that is, motive; not one particular class of motives,
but motive of some kind. And motive of some kind, being the
invariable antecedent, is, according to the author’s own showing,
“ the producing cause of volition.” And such a cause he con-
siders incompatible with free agency. Is it then so soon come to
this, that our author, with all his dislike to fatalism, is according
to his own account of the matter, a fatalist 7
Our author, it seems, has no fear that free agency will be de-
stroyed or impeded by being confined to this invariable rule,
namely, that volition must always have a motive of some sort.
CAUSE AND EFFECT. 1 11
He holds that a free agent is placed under this invariable influence
of motive; that without motive he cannot put forth a volition, —
not merely that he cannot have a volition in this or that particular
way, but that he cannot have it in any way; that his will cannot
act at all. Such is the principle the author admits. And if
there is any one who doubts the truth of this principle, let him,
look carefully into his own mind, and determine for himself by a
fair trial, whether he can put forth a volition without any reason
or motive. If he fails of being satisfied with one trial, let him
proceed to a second, and though the effort may possibly put his
mind into a very odd condition, and may occasion something of an
unpleasant distortion ; let him persevere, till he clearly finds out,
whether his rational, moral mature is really tied to the principle
above mentioned, namely, that motive is, and must bean invariable
antecedent of volition. *.
But the connection of volition with the strongest motive, – this
is regarded by the author as destructive of free agency. That
we are governed in our volitions by motives of some kind, and of
some degree of strength, is admitted. But to be governed inva-
riably by the strongest motive, – this is looked upon as fatalism.
I confess it is difficult for me to account for this view of the sub-
ject; and I am quite inclined to have a little free conversation
with the nameless author. Permit me them to ask; why do you
object to being invariably influenced in your volitions by that
which is, on the whole, the strongest motive, while you are willing
to be influenced by motives of some kind 7 Can you think it a
privilege to be influenced by a weaker, rather than a stronger
motive 7 to be governed in your voluntary actions by reasons of
less weight, and those which appear to you of less weight, rather
than by those which are, or appear to be of greater weight : Or
would it be a better law of the mind, that we should study variety
in this matter, and should sometimes choose according to what we
consider the strongest motive or the most powerful reason, — some-
times, according to what we consider a weaker motive; and some-
times, for the sake of variety, and to display our unshackled, in-
herent power, according to what really appears to us the weakest
112 C. A U S E AN ID EFFIE C T .
motive of all ? — When you wish, in any case, to know what to
choose, would you think it proper to deliberate, at one time, in
order to ascertain what is the strongest reason or motive, so that
you might choose according to that ; at another time, to hit upon
a reason or motive of inferior force, so that you might choose ac-
cording to that ; and at another time, to get at a reason or motive
the weakest of all, so that you might evince your unfettered free-
dom by choosing according to that ? Can you recollect any in-
stance in your past life, in which you did really choose and act in
accordance with a motive which appeared to you to be, on the
whole, of less weight, than another motive which you rejected 2
And if any one should presume to charge you with acting on this
principle, and with habitually preferring what you regarded as a
less reason or motive to what you regarded as a greater; would you
not look at him with astonishment, and ask him, whether he really
thought that a rational being could act so preposterously 7 Or if
it should in fact be found, that you have a habit of acting, occa-
sionally at least, in this way, methinks your friends would be very
much perplexed. For if at any time they would induce you
to determine upon a particular course, how would they know,
whether they could best succeed by urging the strongest reason,
or the weakest ?
After all perhaps it is not the particular object of the author to
maintain, that any man does actually reject what seems to him, on
the whole, the strongest reason, and actually choose according to
what he regards as the weaker reason; but that a free agent has
power to do so. Now if it should become evident, that it is a law
of our rational mature to choose and act according to what we re-
gard as the strongest reason or motive; then a power to choose
and act contrary to this, would be a power to subvert the very
constitution of the mind, and to divest ourselves of our rationality.
Cam any one think that we have such a power; or that such a
power, if it could exist, would be desirable : The law of the
mind for which Edwards contends, is that which makes us rational
beings, and makes us so permanently.
But although the author holds that the strongest motive Gannot
C. A U S E A N D EFFECT . 113
be the antecedent of volition invariably without destroying free
agency; he allows that it may be so occasionally. He thinks that
a free agent may choose once, and again, yea frequently, accord-
ing to the strongest motive. What he denies is, that we can do
it constantly, and yet be free. But if we can choose once, and
twice, and frequently in this way, consistently with free agency,
it proves clearly, that there is nothing in the nature of such a
choice, which interferes with our freedom. If there were any-
thing in its nature and circumstances inconsistent with free agency;
then we could never, in any instance choose in this way, without
Setting aside our freedom. And according to this we should
be obliged, in order to be free, to choose always according to the
weaker motive; that is, the weaker motive must be the invariable
antecedent of volition. But I suppose the author would think,
that such an invariable antecedent as this would interfere with
freedom as much as any other. He insists that there can be no
invariable antecedent of volition consistently with freedom ; that
volition must sometimes follow motives of one kind, and one degree
of strength, and sometimes of another kind, and another degree
of strength. Certainly then it may sometimes, yea, frequently,
follow the strongest motive. Indeed, according to the author's
o, inion, following the strongest motive ever so often, will not hurt
our free agency, unless we do it invariably. Now, if our choosing
according to the strongest motive to-day and to-morrow will not
take away our freedom ; why should it take away our freedom
to choose in this way the next day and the next following? If
we may, consistently with our free agency, choose according to
the strongest motive, two-thirds of the time, what is there incon-
sistent with free agency, in choosing in the same way the rest of
the time 7 [f a part, even the greater part of our volitions may
consistently be put forth in this manner; why not all of them :
, Will the author look into this matter with some special care?
But suppose that a free moral agent is completely in a right
state of mind; that he judges correctly respecting all the objects
of affection; that his desires in every case correspond with the
truth, and that he forms a just estimate of the comparative weight
10*
114 CAUSE AND EFFECT.
of the motives presented before him. Such a man, the author
declares, will uniformly govern his choice by the strongest motive.
He says that, “in all cases where the strongest desire coincides
with the decisions of the judgment, — the mind chooses to gratify
the strongest desire.” That is, in all cases where the disposition
and habits are right, a moral agent chooses in conformity with
the strongest desire or motive. The strongest motive, in all such
cases, is the invariable antecedent of volition. But this invari-
able antecedence is a fearful thing, and is proof of a “producing
cause ; ” and a “producing cause ’’ overthrows free agency, and
constitutes fatalism. Now as Jesus Christ was perfectly holy; —
as his strongest desire always coincided with the decisions of
judgment; he always chose according to the strongest motive.
Here, them, was that invariable antecedence of the strongest
motive, “that invariable rule of volition,” which is proof of a
producing cause ; and a producing cause takes away freedom.
If, then, the scheme of the author is true, our Saviour was not a
free agent, but acted under the influence of fatalism. And as all
the angels in heaven conform to this rule, they too are all destitute
of freedom. And inasmuch as Christians in this life conform to
the same rule in proportion as they are holy ; in the same pro-
portion must their free agency be impaired. And when they
become perfectly holy, they will invariably choose according to
the strongest motive, and of course will lose all their freedom.
Such is the author's theory ; and such the assistance which he
very candidly affords us in exposing it. If the theory were true,
what an alarming influence it would have See to what an extent
it would sweep away the free agency of free agents | As the
strongest desire or motive is the invariable antecedent of volition
with all perfectly holy beings, and as this cannot consist with free
agency; Christ, and the innumerable multitude of angels, and
the spirits of just men made perfect, are all entirely destitute of
freedom. Christians are all so in a degree, and will be so wholly
by and by. Moreover, as the author allows that all men some-
times choose according to the strongest motive ; how can he avoid
the conclusion that, so far as they do this, they are all deprived
C. A U S E A N D EFFECT . - 115
of free agency 7 And he further says, that with all men motive
of some sort is the invariable antecedent of volition ; which inva-
riable antecedence of motive is proof of a producing cause, and
this sets aside free agency. Where then, in heaven or earth shall
we look for free moral agents : Or if any remain, we see how
much they are in danger of losing their freedom, by becoming
holy, that is, by bringing their desires to coincide with the decis-
ions of judgment, so that they may constantly choose and act
according to the strongest motive.
The consequences of adopting the theory of moral agency, set
forth in the Essay, are fearful, in proportion to the importance of
the principles which it tends to undermine.
The theory implies, that a free moral agent must be free not
only from force or coercion, but also from any invariable rule of
action. It assumes that the invariable antecedence of the strong-
est desire, or motive, to volition, is irreconcilable with free agency.
If we are influenced in our volitions in this invariable manner, if
the choices, which the mind makes, are constantly dependent on
antecedent causes; it follows, as the author of the Essay thinks,
that those antecedent causes are “producing” efficient causes,
and that our choosing according to them is a law of our nature ;
and of course, that we have no power to put forth volitions in a
different manner, as this would be contrary to a law of our nature.
And if we have no power to choose and act differently, we are
under a necessity of choosing and acting as we do; and this he
says is fatalism, and precludes accountableness. This I suppose
is the course of thought with all who adopt the principle of con-
tingent volition, as commonly understood. This principle has been
sufficiently examined by Edwards, Day, and others. It is man-
ifest, that this principle of contingent volition is the basis of the
philosophical theory of moral agency which is adopted by numbers
at the present day, and substantially by our author. And see
what a sweeping influence it has in his mind in regard to our
emotions, desires, etc. These, he says, result from “constitutional
producing causes.” “It is God who, by the constitution of the
mind and the ordering of his providence, decides what desires
116 C. A U S E AND EFFECT .
shall exist.” We cannot prevent them. The objects which awa-
ken desire, are the causes of desire in such a sense, “that no
other effect could follow without a change in the nature of things.”
Of course, the author regards our desires, emotions, etc., as in
themselves, no part of free accountable agency. According to
the principle of the Essay, all those affections, emotions, and
desires, which arise spontaneously in the mind in view of their
appropriate objects, are excluded from the supervision of the
moral law. For how can they belong to the catalogue of moral
exercises, when they arise in the mind invariably in view of their
proper objects, and do not wait for the bidding of the will ?
On this notion respecting our emotions and desires, which ob-
viously results from the principles of the Essay, and which the
author expressly maintains, I have a few remarks to offer.
My first remark is, that it stands in direct and palpable oppo-
sition to the authority of God’s word. . His law requires love, and
forbids all those emotions and desires which are contrary to love.
Love is doubtless an affection or emotion of the mind; and doubt-
less it arises in view of suitable objects; and, if the heart is
right, arises invariably, when those objects are presented before it.
Nothing is necessary to excite love in a holy mind but the sight
of a holy object. And is not love to God a holy emotion ? The
desire of the heart for God, for holiness, and for heaven, – is it
not a holy desire 7 And does it not arise spontaneously in the
mind of a holy being, when those objects are presented to his
view 2 Even when the objects are brought before him without
any previous design or thought of his, are not the same emotions
excited 7 Take also a moral agent of another character. Take
a man who is unregenerate, and who has that carnal mind which
is enmity against God. When such a one turns his attention to
God, and sees him in any measure as he is; does not the feeling
of dissatisfaction and enmity spontaneously arise ? While he re-
mains in his natural state, can he, by the power of his will, prevent
it, and call forth the affection of love, and so be subject to the
law of God? How is it with pride, envy, revenge, covetousness,
impure desire, and other affections, which, as Christ informs us,
C A U S E A N D E E E E C T . 117
come forth from the heart 7 In a state of unregeneracy does not
one or the other of these arise spontaneously in the mind, just as
the disposition happens to be, when the appropriate object is pre-
sented to view 7 Is not this the case with the moral affections,
as much as with the natural 2 If I rightly understand the author,
he would admit the facts here mentioned. But does not his theory
imply that they are no part of moral agency 7 As unrenewed
men invariably have wrong affections and desires, and as perfectly
holy beings invariably have right affections and desires, in view
of moral objects, these right and wrong affections and desires must
all be excluded from the catalogue of moral exercises. Such is
the obvious principle of the Essay; and does it not directly con-
tradict the word of God? If there is anything which the moral,
spiritual precepts of the divine law undertake to control, it is the
affections and desires of the heart. What is the love required by
the two comprehensive precepts of the moral law, but an affection
of the heart 2 What is hungering and thirsting after righteous-
ness, but desire? The Greek sztóvuto, generally translated desire,
denotes both good affection and desire, and bad. When it denotes
bad desire, it is often translated by lust. And who needs to be
told that Christ and the apostles speak of the affections and de-
sires, and the passions too, (zón, Rom. 1: 26. 1 Thess. 4: 5,)
as belonging to moral character 7 These are the inner man, upon
which the eye of God is specially fixed. The theory which would
free us from responsibility in regard to these, or would represent
them as not in their own nature morally good or evil—who can
reconcile it with the current language of the New Testament 7
How could Christ and the apostles have spoken as they did,
if they had entertained such an opinion, as is expressed in the
Essay ? e
Secondly. The theory above described is contrary to the dic-
tates of conscience. Every man, not blinded by prejudice, disap-
proves of his disorderly affections and desires, and condemns
himself on account of them. He is conscious that it is sinful to
gratify them. But why should it be sinful to gratify desires
which are not sinful? It is a common sentiment, that the sinful
$
118 C AlJS E A N D EFFECT .
ness of men is great, in proportion as their depraved passions and
desires are awakened suddenly and strongly in view of forbidden
objects. Suppose any one is instantly filled with revengeful feel-
ing at the thought of his enemy, or with envy at the thought of
his superior, or with covetous desire at the thought of money, or
with pride and vanity at the thought of himself; and suppose
these feelings rise to great strength and violence. Is not he the
man that we look upon as uncommonly wicked 7
And if the theory is opposed to the consciences of men gener
ally, it is more decidedly opposed to the spiritual experience and
consciousness of the devoted Christian. He knows that he is holy
or unholy in the sight of God, according to the nature of the
emotions and desires which are awakened within him in view of
moral objects. And if any scheme of philosophy contradicts this
sentiment, he knows it to be wrong. If he finds that his state of
mind is such, that the contemplation of worldly pleasure, wealth,
and honor instantly kindle within him what the Apostle calls the
lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life ; — es-
pecially if he finds, that these desires are unawares burning
within him; he concludes that his heart is indeed very corrupt,
and he learns how important it is, that such an one as he should
fly from temptation, and should watchfully guard against every-
thing which would bring any tempting object before him. And
the more spiritual a Christian is, the more quick is he to discern
and to condemn the first motions of the sin that dwells in him, -
the first and feeblest actings of unholy affection or desire. Tell
him your philosophy teaches, that he is not culpable for unsought,
unlooked for emotions of pride, envy, covetousness, revenge, or
impurity; his deep consciousness replies, that your philosophy is
false. He sees and knows, that these emotions, in whatever way
excited, are, in themselves, morally Wrong, and contrary to that
spiritual law, which extends its authority over all the, thoughts and
feelings of his heart. In view of his inward pollutions, he ex-
claims: Behold, I am vile ! and his earnest prayer is, that his
heart may be cleansed by the grace of God. -
Thirdly. The theory advanced in the Essay is contrary to the
() 4.
(; A U S R AND EFFECT . 119
principles of philosophy, even those which seem to be implied in
the Essay. The author mentions it as a point of essential impor-
tance in his theory, “that the mind alone is the real producing
cause of its own volitions.” By this I suppose it is meant, that
the mind itself acts in willing, and that the volition is wholly the
mind’s act; that the mind is the agent, and the only agent that
puts forth its volitions. If anything different from this is meant,
I know not what it is. The author says, “all sin arises from that
power of free agency, which makes the mind the sole producing
cause of its own volitions.” Now does not the power of free
agency equally make the mind the producing cause of its own
emotions, affections, and desires 3 Is not the mind as really active
in these, as in its volitions 2 Is it not as intensely active 2 Are
not affections and desires mental actions of as high an order as
volitions? In what can the rational and moral faculties be more
truly or more intensely active, than in loving God with all the
heart and soul and mind and strength And as to the hungering
and thirsting after righteousness spoken of by our Saviour, -is it
not truly an act of the mind 7 And is not the mind as much
the author or cause of it, as of any other mental act 2 Does not
every Christian speak of it as his own act, when he says, “I love
the Lord.” “Thou knowest that I love thee.” Is it not therefore
evident, even according to the principles of the Essay, that affec-
tion and desire are as truly of a moral nature, as volition ? And
it is plain, that volition itself derives its moral mature from those
affections and desires of the heart which prompt it, and is regard-
ed as good or bad, according to the goodness or badness of those
inward motives.
The doctrine of the Essay in regard to our emotions and
desires is widely different from that which has been held by the
great body of learned divines and philosophers. Those who insist
that all morality is comprised in the acts of the will, include the
affections and desires among its acts.
Is it said, for the purpose of showing that we are not answera-
ble for our desires, – “that it is God, who, by the constitution of
the mind and the ordering of his providence, decides what desires
120 C. A U S E A N D EFFECT .
shall exist?” And does he not in the same way decide what
volitions shall exist? The author of the Essay ascribes to God
“the power to prevent any given volition, by removing an object
of desire, or by substituting some other in its place.” He holds
that no volitions can take place without motives, and that all
motives are under the ordering of God’s providence. Now if all
this agency and control of God over volitions does not interfere
with their moral nature, nor hinder us from exercising free agency
in them ; why should we suppose that the same divine agency pre-
vents our free agency in the exercise of affection and desire?
An appeal is often made in the Essay to the consciousness of
men. I join in this appeal. If a man has in his heart an emo-
tion of love to his fellow-creatures, and a real desire for their good;
is he not conscious that the emotion itself is right? Or if the
emotion of hatred, envy, or revenge rises in his heart; is he not
conscious that the emotion is wrong? Does he not disprove of it
as really, as he does of a definite determination to injure others,
or even of an injurious act 7 And does not the explanation which
our Saviour gives of the moral law, Matt. 5: 27, 28, 43, 44,
correspond with these remarks :
And yet, according to the principles advanced in Some parts
of the Essay, the emotions and desires of the heart are not to be
regarded as possessing a moral nature, or as appertaining to moral
character. And why : The answer I suppose must be, that they
certainly and invariably rise in the mind, when fit objects are pre-
sented to view. The writer holds, that this circumstance shows
that our desires are not free, moral, accountable acts. But he
gives no proof. I maintain that this circumstance does not show
this, and that the theory of the author on this subject is wide of
the truth. I have endeavored to show, that the theory is not
only destitute of proof, but is opposed to the true sense of the
moral law, which reaches to the desires and feelings of the heart;
that it is opposed to the consciousness of men, especially of good
men ; and that it is opposed to the principles of philosophy, even
those contained in the Essay. t
It is the common doctrine of evangelical ministers and Chris-,
C. A U S E AN ID EFFECT. 121.
tians, that there is a certain, invariable connection between the
apostasy of Adam and the sinfulness of all his posterity; that his
sin is the invariable antecedent of their sinful disposition, volitions
and conduct; that it is the divine constitution and the law of our
nature, that every one who is born of human parents, will be a
sinner, and that this law is invariable. Now according to the
theory of the Essay, this “invariable antecedence,” is proof of a
producing cause; and the existence of such a producing cause
excludes free agency. According to this theory, therefore, one
of these two things must be true ; either that native depravity,
and all our sinful volitions and actions, being the invariable
consequence of Adam’s sin, is a matter of fatalism, entirely
precluding free, accountable agency; or else that there is no
such invariable connection between Adam’s sin and the sin
and condemnation of his posterity, and that the doctrine, uni-
versally held by evangelical Christians, and taught by Paul, is
not true.
And what would become of the doctrine of election and effica-
cious grace 3 The doctrine implies, that the repentance of all
who are saved, invariably follows the purpose of God and that
influence of the Spirit which is given to carry his purpose into
effect. Now the author cannot consistently admit that the re-
pentance and faith of sinners certainly and invariably follow this
divine purpose and influence ; because the invariableness of such
an antecedent cause would preclude the free agency of those
brought under its influence. The agency of men in repenting,
believing and obeying, cannot, according to this theory, be free
agency, if it is the certain, invariable effect of the purpose and
agency of God. And to secure to men their freedom in this con-
cern, the author, to be consistent, must hold, that there is no in-
variable connection between this divine cause, and the repentance
of sinners, and that it is impossible for God to exert such an influ-
ence upon those who are chosen to Salvation, as will certainly and
invariably bring them to repentance, without violating their free
agency; and then he must hold that, to guard their freedom from
infringement, their conversion must be left uncertain, so that it
WOL. W. 11
I22 C. A U S E A NID EFFECT.
may follow the purpose and agency of God, or not, as their sove-
reign will shall decide.
The same as to the doctrine of perseverance. If God should
exert such an influence upon the regenerate, as invariably to
secure their perseverance in holiness; then according to the
theory of the author, they would lose their free agency. Hence,
every one who embraces the theory and is consistent, must take
care not to ascribe to God an influence which certainly and inva-
Tiably causes perseverance, and must not pray for such an influ-
ence, as such prayer might endanger their free agency.
How manifest it is, that the theory which we have considered,
is opposed to the most devout dispositions and prayers of good
men. What do sincere Christians desire and pray for so earnest-
ly, as for such an influence of the Holy Spirit, as will certainly
and invariably secure them from sin, and lead them to persever-
ing love and obedience 7 But if God should answer their
prayers, and should give the influence which they seek, -if in
their love and obedience they should act under so powerful an ab
extra cause, a cause so efficaciously producing holiness; then,
according to the Essay, they would lose their free agency. Now
I think, that every humble, pious man will be inclined to say, I
desire no such freedom as would exclude the effectual operations
of the Holy Spirit. Let this divine cause govern me invariably;
let it direct and control my understanding, my heart and my will,
certainly and entirely. I crave it as the choicest blessing, that
God would work in me both to will and to do, so that, in conse-
quence of his influence, I may uniformly will and do what is
pleasing in his sight. Let my agency be constantly and wholly
governed by the almighty agency of God. Then I shall have a
freedom truly precious, – freedom from the bondage of sin–
freedom from the influence of my own perverse will and desperate-
ly wicked heart, — the glorious freedom of the children of God.
I shall here briefly answer the brief questions at the close of
the Essay.
1. “In what does fatalism consist 7”. $
But why does the author put this question at the end of his
C. A U S E A N D EFFECT. 123
Essay, after he has so fully and confidently answered it himself?
The fundamental doctrine of fatalism is, he says, that we choose
and act invariably according to the strongest motive, or that the
strongest desire or motive is the certain and constant antecedent
of our volitions. -
2. “What are the different forms of speech in which the doc-
trine is expressed ?” -
These will be found in the books, mentioned below, in which
the doctrine is taught.
3. “Is there any difference in the real meaning conveyed by
these forms ?” *
This any discerning man can determine who has time to make
the comparison.
4. “Is not fatalism a most pernicious doctrine in its tenden-
cies : * – Answer. The author has settled this also. — “And
does it make any difference in the evil, whether it is taught by a
wise and pious man, or by the sceptic : * – Answer. It is, in
some respects, evidently worse for a pernicious error to be taught
by a wise and pious man, than by a sceptic. - .
5. “What are the books in which fatalism is taught, and by
whose influence and authority are they sustained 7” — Answer.
According to the author’s motion, it is taught in Calvin’s Insti-
tutes, the Westminster Confession of Faith and Catechisms, the
works of Edwards, West, Smalley, Bellamy, Dwight, Day, Beech-
er, and such like. And the doctrine which the author calls fatal-
ism, is sustained by the influence of almost all the Presidents of
our Colleges, almost all our Theological Professors, almost all
the Ministers and Christians in New England, almost all the
Old School and New School Presbyterians, and almost all the
orthodox of other denominations.
The additional remarks which I shall make, will be arranged
under several distinct heads.
The first subject which I shall examine is, the power of a
contrary choice.
124 C. A U S E AND E E E E C T.
Many writers regard this as a matter of great importance ;
and some of them suppose, that the power referred to is fre-
quently denied. As there is really much indefiniteness and
obscurity in the disputes which are carried on respecting this
subject; we should do what we can to make it clear and defi-
mite. Let us then inquire what are the points in which all
candid men are agreed ; so that we may avoid meedless contro-
versy, and may fix upon the real question at issue.
First. All agree that we have the power of choice. Every man
certainly knows that he has this power, because he often exercises
it. In the common course of human affairs, different things are
proposed to us. We compare them, and them determine or choose
between them, so that we can no more doubt that we have the
power of choice, than that we have the power to think or to walk,
when we are actually thinking or walking.
Secondly. It must be evident to all, that the way and the
only way, in which our power of choice is acted out, is in the
choices we really make. We never exercise our power by choos-
ing differently from what we do choose. This may be called a
truism. But it is true. However great our power of choosing
differently from what we do, we never, in any instance whatever,
exercise it. This is clear.
Thirdly. All must agree that we cannot at one and the same
time make two choices, the one opposite to the other. However
great our power of choice, we have no power to do this. If we
should wish to do it, we could not. And when any one asserts,
that we have the power of a contrary choice, he cannot really
mean, that we can make the choice we do, and at the same time
another choice opposite; for example, that we can choose to go
north, and at the same time choose to go south. No one, who
understands the import of words, can mean to assert such an ab-
surdity. And I must suppose it an inadvertency, that the anony-
mous writer uses language which seems to imply this. Priestley
says: “In any given state of mind, with respect both to disposi.
tion and motive, two different determinations are impossible.”
The anonymous writer rejects this; of course he holds, as we
C. A U S E A N D EFFECT . 125
should suppose, that a man in the same state of mind with respect
both to disposition and motive, may make two different and oppo-
posite determinations, and may do it at the same time. But I
think he cannot really mean this ; and if not, what is the point of
difference 2
Fourthly. All agree that we have power to make different and
opposite choices at different times and in different circumstances.
Our choice at one time is in fact different from what it is at another
time. An unrenewed sinner chooses to disobey God and enjoy
the pleasures of sin. The same person when renewed by the
divine Spirit, chooses to obey God and forsake the pleasures of
sin. The power thus to vary our choices under the influence of
different motives, objective or subjective, evidently belongs to all
l]].62]]. •
Fifthly. It is a point in which all will agree, that, in any case,
we might have made a different choice instead of the one we did
make, if we had been disposed to do it, or had found sufficient
inducements. A man who chooses the life of a farmer, might
have chosen the life of a mariner, if he had been so inclined, or
had found sufficient inducements. This, I apprehend, is the
meaning of those who say, that we might have chosen, or had
power to choose, differently from what we did ; – not that we might
at the same time have made another and opposite choice in con-
nection with the one we made ; but that we might have made
another choice instead of it, if we had been disposed to do it, or
if our inducements had been sufficient. These are the necessary
conditions of choice ; and without them choice cannot be. If a
man should tell us that he put forth an act of mind which he
called choice, without any inclination or inducements, we should
say, he mistakes the meaning of the word.
Sixthly. All agree that we may hereafter make a choice con-
trary to what we now make. There may be such a change in our
views, feelings, and circumstances, as will maturally lead to a
change in our practical determination.
Seventhly. Whenever we make a wrong choice, all agree that
we ought to have made a different choice, and that our not doing
11*
126 2
C AlJ S E A N D EFFECT .
it was our own fault. There are in truth motives or inducements
of such intrinsic value, that we ought to be influenced by them
to a right choice; and if in any case we do not make such a
choice, it is not because we are not free agents, but because we
are sinful agents, – not because we are destitute of any of the
endowments of moral, accountable beings, but because we are
inclined to pervert those endowments; not because we have no
power to choose, but because the power we have is under an evil
bias.
Eighthly. I suppose there is a general agreement in this also,
that a man does himself determine the influence which external
motives shall have upon him, by the dispositions and habits of his
own mind, or by his own inward character. A good man, by his
pious dispositions, determines the influence which gospel truths
shall have upon him. It is because he “has an honest and good
heart,” that the motives presented in the Scriptures excite his
love, and lead him to obedience. Our Saviour asserts this con-
nection between the state of the heart and the voluntary conduct,
when he says, “A good man out of the good treasure of his heart
bringeth forth good things; and an evil man out of the evil trea-
sure of his heart, bringeth forth evil things.” We expect a man
will have love, pity, generosity, or the opposite, excited by the
objects placed before him, according to his prevailing disposition.
And if any one judges on any other principle, we say, he is igno-
rant of human nature.
If any one inquires whether we have not power to choose
contrary to our inclinations and to the inducements presented
before us; I reply, that we doubtless have power to choose con-
trary to some of Our inclinations, and some of the inducements
placed before us. But have we power to choose and act contrary
to all our inclinations, and to all the inducements placed before
us? Did any man ever learn that he has such a power by acting
it out 7 If not, how does he know that he possesses it 7 Can
any man think such a power desirable 2 If he had it, would he
ever exercise it? And of what value is a power which is never
to be exercised ? A power to choose according to our inclinations
C A U S E AND EFFECT . 127
and desires, and under the influence of rational inducements, is
a possession of great value. But a power to choose independently
of all our inclinations and motives, and contrary to them, is a
power to do an absurdity; and a power to do an absurdity is itself
an absurdity.
But some appear to think that, in every case, choice and volun-
tary action might have been contrary to what it was, supposing all
the motives, external and internal, and all the circumstances of
action, to have remained perfectly the same. They think this is
the main point, and that it is the very thing implied in the power
of a contrary choice. In reference to this, I cannot do better
than to quote the words of an author, who was no advocate for
the scheme of moral or philosophical necessity, but who judged
according to common Sense and consciousness. The author refer-
red to, (Dr. Whately,) says: “If nothing more is meant,” (that
is, by the doctrine of necessity,) “than that every event depends
on causes adequate to produce it, — that nothing is in itself con-
tingent, accidental, or uncertain, but is called so only in reference
to a person who does not know all the circumstances on which
it depends; and that it is absurd to say anything could have
happened otherwise than it did, supposing all the circumstances
connected with it to remain the same ; them the doctrine is unde-
niably true, but perfectly harmless, not at all encroaching on free
agency and responsibility, and amounting to little more than an
expansion of the axiom, that it is impossible for the same thing
to be and not to be.”
But if I have rightly understood the writer of the Essay, he
holds that this very principle, which Whately says is undeniably
true, and perfectly harmless, is the essence of fatalism. The
doctrine which he represents as the opposite of free agency, and
the great doctrine of fatalism, is, that in the moral world, as well
as the natural, the same consequences invariably result from the
same antecedent circumstances. It is manifestly implied in what
he and others advance on this subject, that they mean to speak
of the antecedent circumstances as the same in all respects. All
the dispositions, habits, and desires, everything intellectual and
12S C A U S E A N D EFFIE C T .
moral, and everything extraneous to the mind, -in a word, the
mind itself, and everything which can have an influence upon the
mind, are to be regarded as perfectly the same. Now my position
is, that when this is the case, the same consequences invariably
follow. And I hold, with Whately and others, that this is self-
evident, and that to assert the contrary is absurd. If any man
thinks that he has the power actually to make a contrary choice
when all the antecedent circumstances are the same ; I must
request him to think again. And if he still insists that he
possesses such a power, it is no more than reasonable to call
upon him for proof. Let him give an instance, in which he has
in some way exercised it, or if he never has done it, let him do
it now, and thus end the controversy. But if, though a man
really has this power, he never has exercised it and never will
exercise it, then, after all, the existence of the power does not
amount to much, and does not in the least interfere with the
doctrine, that the same consequences do in fact result from the
same antecedent circumstances. In this point of view, the ques-
tion whether a man has the power, is of no weight. For if he
has it, but never uses it, the result will be the same as though
he had it not. And so, according to the Essay, the evistence of
the power of the contrary being never exercised, would do nothing
to shut out fatalism, - because, notwithstanding such a power,
there may in fact be an invariable constancy in the result of
moral causes. -
I hardly know how to account for it, that the author of the
Essay and some other writers should represent free agency as
consisting in the power of a contrary choice. The power and the
only power which we really use, is the power to choose and act
as we do. We can indeed make a different choice at another
time and in other circumstances. But have we power to make
a different choice at the very time that we make the choice we
do? Let it be that we have such a power. I say that we cannot
use it, except by choosing at the very time differently from what
we do choose. But how can this be? At the very same time
that we choose to speak the truth, how can we use the power of
C A U S E A N D E E FIE C T . 129
a contrary choice, and choose to speak falsehood 7 Now, how
strange it is, that any one should represent free agency as con-
sisting in a power, which, if it should exist, would never be used,
and the use of which would imply a contradiction ? Does moral
agency consist in the power to cause the same thing to be and not
to be, or to cause a thing and its opposite to be at the same time 7
— a power to make a particular choice and a contrary choice at
one and the same time : The choices I make and the actions I
perform are the choices and acts of a free moral agent. And
the power to choose and act as I do, is all the power that is ne-
cessary to my moral agency. Who can reasonably wish for more
power, than that which he exercises in the variety of choices
he makes, and in all the variety of his actions?
As an exemplification of the general principle which I maintain,
take the words of Christ: “If any man love me, he will keep
my words.” Obedience is the invariable consequence of love.
And disobedience is the invariable consequence of the want of
love. “He that loveth me not, keepeth not my words.” — But
has not a man who is now destitute of love, power to obey 2 Yes,
on the proper condition. He cannot render a true obedience to
Christ, without love. That any one should choose to obey, and
actually obey, when he has no love, is contrary to the nature of
obedience. His power to obey is then conditional, and the con-
ditions are such as arise from the nature of the mind, and the
nature of voluntary action. These conditions are often expressed,
and, when not expressed, are understood. And practical men un-
derstand them alike. When they wish to induce a man to make a
choice different from what he has made, instead of appealing to the
absolute power of the will, they labor at the well known conditions
of the new choice. In this way, and in this way only, they hope to
succeed. There are uniform laws in the moral world, as well as in
the natural; and to attempt to accomplish anything irrespectively
of those laws, would be as unwise and fruitless in one case as in
the other. - - & * *
I shall take the liberty to close my remarks on this subject by
a few quotations from a writer, whom no one can charge with the
130 C. A U S E A N D EFFECT .
want of enlightened, patient, profound thought, or of a clear, dis-
criminating judgment on metaphysical subjects.
“Those who plead for contingent self-determination, or adopt
a theory which implies it,” says President Day, “often claim to
themselves the exclusive right to be considered the advocates of
liberty. If this assumption be conceded to them, it ought to be
distinctly understood, according to which of the numerous mean-
ings of the term, liberty is peculiar to their system. Those who
believe in the dependence of volitions upon motives as well as
agents, are also decided advocates of liberty. But they do not
engage to give their sanction to every strange or even absurd
combination of ideas, to which any philosopher may think proper
to annex the term, however contrary it may be to the signification
of the word as sanctioned by common usage. It is agreed on all
hands, that with respect to external actions, we are free, when we
do as we will; when there is such an established connection be-
tween our volitions and our actions that the latter invariably follow
from the other. When we will to walk, we walk, if we are free.
— Now is internal liberty, or liberty of the will, the direct op-
posite of this? Does it imply that there is no dependence of our
volitions on antecedent feelings; that however ardently a man
may love God, this has no controlling influence over his purposes
and executive acts 7 °
“According to the advocates of independent self-determination,
liberty of the will implies a freedom to either side. This is other-
wise expressed by saying, that whenever a man acts freely he has
power to the contrary. — Cousin says: ‘An action performed
with the consciousness of power not to do it, is what men have
called a free action.’ — ‘Liberty — belongs to acts which we per-
form, with the consciousness of doing them, and of being able not
to do them.’ In a certain sense this is undoubtedly true. In re-
ference to eacternal conduct, a man is free when he does as he wills.
JBut does liberty imply, that when a man wills a certain act, it is
no more likely to follow than the contrary act; that there is no es-
tablished connection between what he does, and what he wills to
do; that with the same volitions his actions might be different 7”
C. A U S E A N D EFFECT . 131
“But the advocates of a liberty to either side, would probably
consider it as relating not so much to external conduct, as to acts
of the will. Cousin says: “Liberty exists in the pure power of
willing, which is always accompanied by the consciousness of the
power to will the contrary of what it wills.” But in what sense is
it true, that man has the power to will the contrary of what he
actually wills He has such power, that with a sufficient induce-
ment, he will make an opposite choice. But has he not power,
you ask, to choose otherwise than he does, even though it be cer-
tain that he will never exercise that power unless there is some
change in his feelings, or in the motives before him : A correct
answer to this question must depend upon the extent of meaning
here given to the word power. A man may have some power, and
not have all power; that is, he may not have all that upon which
the result depends. If the word power be used in its broadest
sense, as including not only opportunity, knowledge, capacity, etc.,
but motives of all kinds; it is not true that a man has always
equal power, that is, equal inducements, to opposite volitions.”
“But if the word power be here used according to its more
common acceptation, so as not to include motives and the state of
feeling, this is not inconsistent with such a strength of inclination,
as will certainly prevent any contrary volition. A man has as
much power to speak the truth, if he will, as he has to utter
falsehood. And he has as much power to will to speak the truth,
if his feelings are so inclined, as he has to will to lie. But has he
a power which will determine him to will one way, while his feel-
ings are wholly inclined to will the contrary way ? In many
cases, there may be conflicting emotions in a man’s mind, and
therefore some power of motive in opposite directions. But when
he comes to a decision, are the motives on the opposite sides
always equal? Is it not the preponderance of one over the other
which turns the scale º The man who wills in a particular way,
under the influence of certain feelings, might undoubtedly will
differently, under a different influence. But while the same mind
continues in precisely the same state, in the same circumstances,
and under the same influences of every kind, has it power to will
in opposite directions; or if it has this power, will it ever use it 7”
º
132 C. A U S E AN ID EFFECT .
“If in asserting a power to contrary volitions, nothing more is
intended, than that a different influence might occasion an oppo-
site decision of the will, this is not inconsistent with the depen-
dence of volition on the state of the heart, external motives, natu-
ral sensibilities, acquired propensities, etc. The younger Ed-
wards, a strenuous advocate for the certain connection between
volitions and their causes, admits that the power of acting implies,
at the same time, a power of not acting. But he takes special care
to guard his admission against the inference, that our volitions are
independent of the influence of motives. – “Moral necessity,” he
says, “is the certain or necessary connection between moral causes
and moral effects;’ — ‘and there is no moral necessity in the
case, unless the connection be real and absolutely certain, so as
to insure the existence of the effects.” And his father says:
“Moral necessity may be as absolute as natural necessity; that is,
the effect may be as perfectly connected with its moral cause, as
a natural necessary effect is with its natural cause.”—“As it must
be allowed that there may be such a thing as a sure and perfect
connection between moral causes and their effects; so this only is
what I call by the name of moral necessity.’ According to these
Writers, then, a man may have a natural power to make a contrary
choice, although, at the same time he is morally unable to do it;
that is, he is under the influence of such motives, as will infalli-
bly prevent him from thus willing. It may be thought by some,
that, by a purpose or resolve, we have power to give our volitions
a contrary direction. But do we form purposes independently of
all motives from without and from within 7 Will the same influ-
ence operating upon precisely the same state of mind, lead to
opposite purposes and volitions 7 °
“If we pass from our purposes to our affections or emotions,
shall we here find the liberty to either side : It is manifest that
different objects may produce different feelings in the same mind;
and the same objects will produce different feelings in different
minds. But while the same objects are viewed in the same man-
ner, by a mind continuing in precisely the same state of suscepti-
bility, will the affections excited by these objects be so changed,
C A U S E A N D EFFECT . 133
as to become of an opposite character 7 Or does the state of the
mind itself become contrary to what it was before, without any
cause whatever ?”
“Will it be said, that our volitions are partly contingent, and
partly dependent on something preceding; that there may be
Some influence from motives, and at the same time a power of act-
ing in opposition to motives 7 To this it may be answered, that
if the very nature of liberty of will implies freedom to either side,
them So far as this is controlled, and our volitions are determined
by the influence of motives, by the state of the affections, or by
anything else, liberty is impaired. The saint in heaven, who is
under the influence of such motives as invariably excite in him
holy volitions, has not the liberty of which we are now speaking !”
“Why have metaphysicians given to the terms liberty and
power, when applied to the will, a meaning so different from that
which they bear in customary use, and in reference to external
conduct 7 In common language, a man enjoys liberty when he
does as he wills; that is, when there is a fived connection between
his acts and his volitions. Whatever interrupts this connection,
impairs his freedom. But according to some philosophers, liberty
of will requires that there should be no dependence of our voli-
tions upon anything preceding, for being as they are, rather than
otherwise. External liberty consists in a man’s acting uniformly,
according to his will. Does internal liberty imply, that he fre-
quently wills in opposition to his supreme affections 2 When we
say that a man has power to the contrary external action, we mean,
that if his will were different, the action would be different. But
some who speak of a power to contrary volitions, seem to mean,
that under the same influence, and in the same state of mind, the
volitions may be different. It is a power of contingence, a
capacity of being subject to accident. Is not the term power, as
it is frequently used, a mere ‘metaphysical sound,’ which is to
produce its effect, not by any distinct signification in the connec-
tion in which it is introduced, but by association with feelings
excited by the word, in cases of a very different nature ?”
“Liberty is commonly considered a privilege. But what privi
WOL. V. 12
134 C. A U S E A N D EFFECT .
lege is conferred by the liberty of contingence,—a freedom of
our volitions from all influence of motives, – of argument, and
persuasion, and affections? Suppose a man were to be endowed
with a will which should put forth volitions wholly at random, with-
out any regard to his feelings; that if these should urge him ever
so strongly to go one way, his will would determine he should go
in an opposite direction ; that however much he might be pleased
with obeying God, his volitions would lead him to disobey; would
this be the perfection of liberty : Or suppose his volitions should
spring up without any cause, or reason, or influence whatever,
either from without or from within; would this be the most desira-
ble condition of his being 7” "
A moral agent is one who performs actions which are of a moral
nature, and are related to a moral law. But what is a free
agent 2 The word free is relative. Taken in a good sense, it
denotes the absence of something undesirable. A citizen of the
United States is free. From what is he free ? He is not free
from the authority of law, nor from the power of rulers. He is
not free from restrictions as to the use of his property, or as to
the business he shall pursue. In various respects his personal
liberty is limited. Yet notwithstanding these various and some-
times unwelcome restraints, we say he is a free man. But from
what is he free ? He is free from a despotic government. He is
free from the power of a king who rules, not according to just and
equal laws, but according to his own absolute will. He is free
from oppression, and from all unnecessary and unreasonable
restraints. In the Scripture sense, a man is free, who is free from
the dominion of sin, and has the liberty of the sons of God.
|Put in the case now under consideration, freedom is spoken of
as an attribute of an intelligent, accountable being. Here free-
dom is freedom from whatever would prevent moral, accountable
action. And here we form our judgment, not by an abstract
intellectual process, but by consciousness and common sense. We
know that we are moral, accountable agents. We know also that
we have the freedom which is necessary for those who are the
subjects of law. We are free from compulsion or force. We do
* See Day on the Will, Sect. 4. =={
C. A U S E A N D EFFECT . 135
what we choose, and we choose as we are inclined. We are not
free from law, or from obligation to serve God. And we are
not, in our voluntary conduct, free from the influence of our
inclinations and desires, nor from the influence of external objects.
In our unrenewed state, we are not free from the control of a de-
ceitful and wicked heart. If we are Christians, we are not free
from the influence of pious affections. And whether we are
Christians or not, we are not free from the established laws
of the mind; and one of these laws we learn from experi-
ence to be, that the executive acts of the will, called voli-
tions, follow our inclinations and desires. That we should have
a choice or determination, not conformed to our inclinations
and desires, is inconceivable. Such a thing never did exist, and
never can. It is indeed true that our choice and our voluntary
conduct often have an effect, direct or indirect, upon our subse-
quent affections and desires; and this discloses another important
practical principle. But who does not know that the very choice
or determination of mind, which thus influences subsequent affec-
tions and desires, does itself spring from affections and desires
already existing 7 Nor is this anything strange. In many cases
we find that the same thing is the effect of a preexisting cause, and
the cause of a subsequent effect ; and that this last effect becomes
the cause of another effect, and so on. No man can be a watch-
ful observer of human affairs, without perceiving such a concatena-
tion of causes and effects in the common course of providence.
The doctrine that our volitions proceed from our affections, is
thought by some to be liable to objection with regard to the case
of Adam. How, it is asked, could he be influenced in the act of
his will to disobey, by his affections, or the state of his heart, when
his affections were holy 7. I answer ; while his affections all
remained holy, he could not disobey. But he was mutable, and
the affections of his heart, which were once holy, became sinful.
And it agrees with common experience, that sinful affections of
heart should lead to voluntary transgression. But how did his
heart change from holiness to sin 7 I answer; he certainly did
change, and the change must have begun somewhere. As I never
136 C A U S E AND EFFECT.
experienced such a change myself, and as I am unable to look into
Adam’s mind and trace the process of thought and feeling which
took place when he became a transgressor, I cannot tell how he
changed from holiness to sin. This lies beyond my knowledge.
But as the inclinations, affections and desires of the heart are evi-
dently the chief springs of voluntary action, it would seem very
probable, that the change in Adam's character commenced in his
heart, and that his sinful heart led to the act of disobedience.
And it is certainly no more difficult to show how his affections
became corrupt, and how these corrupt affections led to voluntary
transgression, than to show how he could choose to transgress,
while the affections and desires of his heart were all pure, and
how this choice, proceeding from a sinless heart, could be sinful;
ºn other words, to show how Voluntary transgression could take
place without any Wrong feeling in the heart prompting to it. If,
to escape this last difficulty, it should be said, that the first act of
Adam’s will to transgress, was an ultimate fact, and so not to be
explained or accounted for, I could with equal propriety say, that
the change of his heart, under temptation, from a pure to a corrupt
state was an ultimate fact, admitting of no explanation.
If the case of the first transgression is treated metaphysically,
there is no escape from difficulties. The common theory is no more
encumbered with them, than any other, and therefore the exist-
ence of insolvable difficulties cannot fairly be urged as a valid
objection against it. It may be that the theory of divine truth in
relation to this matter has mysteries not to be explained, and
depths which no finite mind can fathom. But after all, it may
be, that there is nothing in this subject, which necessarily occa-
sions any special difficulty. The difficulties which generally per-
plex us, may be owing to Something wrong in our habits of think-
ing, and particularly to our undertaking to judge of that which is
of a spiritual mature, by our speculative faculties. It may be
that the views which David had of his own misconduct, when he
wrote the 51st Psalm, were not only just and true, but the only
views which were fit and profitable for him. The same may be
said of Peter, when he went out and wept bitterly. It may be,
C. A U S E A N D EFFECT . 137
that he then entertained the only right and proper views of his
own offence. All the truth and all the philosophy, which justly
belongs to any transgressor, may be contained in the humble, con-
trite confession; I have done wickedly; — against thee, O God,
have I sinned: I abhor myself. The Lord is righteous, and I am
justly condemned. We know that this is enough for the purposes
of Salvation, and it may be that, in regard to all important pur-
poses, this is the end of the matter. As it is a concern of con-
Science and the heart, it may be, that any attempt to work out the
problem in a speculative, philosophical manner, is not only needless,
but hazardous ; and that he who never makes the attempt, and is
content.to treat the subject merely in a penitent, devout and
practical manner, is in the surest way to understand the truth, and
to keep his mind effectually closed against the encroachments of
error. And the time may come, when the wise and good man,
instead of coldly inquiring after the philosophy of Sin, will be
wholly occupied with confessing and forsaking it, with seeking for-
giveness for it, and watchfully guarding against it. And if
We could have access to Adam, and could ask him to give us an
exact account of his apostasy, it may be that, after all he has
learnt in the world of spirits for five thousand years, the begin-
ning, and middle, and termination of his story would be, that he
was made in the image of God, and was under perfect obligations
to obey his commands, but that he yielded to temptation and
became a sinner. And it may be, that he would wonder at us,
philosophizing sinners, that we should have so much trouble
of a speculative, metaphysical kind, respecting our depravity,
and so little of a spiritual kind, arising from a sense of the moral
evil that is in us, and of our ill desert as transgressors.
I do not mean to discard mental philosophy, as a science. It
is certainly conducive to the great end of our being, to turn our
attention to the nature of the immortal mind, and to observe the
established principles or laws which govern its operations. But
mental philosophy, as a science, must be founded upon the facts
of consciousness. It must take those facts as they are ; just as
the science of physics takes the facts in the matural World as they
12*
138 C. A U S E AND EFFECT .
are, and builds upon them. Now our spiritual consciousness
teaches us, that we are the proper subjects of law, and that We
are accountable to God for Our conduct, and are deserving of
praise or blame according as we conform or not to the rule of
right. This then is a fact settled forever, and not on any ac-
count to be called in question. Whatever we find the laws of
mental action to be, this fact remains. It is a first principle.
What then shall we think, if a man comes forward and says, if
the laws of the mind are S0 and So, we cannot be moral, accounta-
ble beings 7 We tell him, the proper inquiry is, whether such are
the laws of the mind. If, on a careful examination, we find them
to be so, this can never justify us in setting aside the great fact
that we are accountable beings. We cannot infer from one well-
known truth, that another well-known truth, is not a truth.
Whatever we find to be metaphysically true as to the nature of
the mind or the mode of its acting—whether the necessarian
scheme, or the opposite, or some one still different, proves to be
the right scheme — the important truth remains in full force, and
will remain forever, that we are moral agents, justly accountable
to God for our conduct, and are praise-worthy or blame-worthy,
according as we obey or disobey the moral law. Let us then no
longer create to ourselves difficulties and perplexities by arraying
the decisions of the speculative understanding against the deci-
sions of conscience. Let us judge by our speculative faculty on
speculative subjects, and by our moral faculty on moral subjects
— never suffering one of these to interfere with the other. In
this way, the decisions of each may become more clear and satis-
factory, and the disputes which are carried on by speculative
reason, respecting the affairs of conscience, may all come to an
end. And as to the difficulties which have been accumulating of
late in regard to moral agency—it may be that they are chiefly
factitious or imaginary ; and if so, they can be best removed, not
by encountering them but by dismissing them.
Why should there be any objection to moral necessity ? Writers
explain it to be the certain connection between moral causes and
C. A U S E A N D EFFECT . 139
their effects; or, the invariable influence of moral causes. Moral
causes are the inclinations, affections, and desires of the heart,
together with the objects to which they relate. The language is
scientific, and has its use in philosophical treatises, and even in
popular discourse. The sacred writers frequently use language
which implies all that is meant by necessity in this case, and they
sometimes use the very word, and in the sense which scientific
writers affix to it; as Paul says, a meaessity is laid upon him
to preach the gospel; and Christ says, that there is a necessity
that offences should come, and that his death is an event which
must be. Similar language is often used in common discourse, in
which it is expected, that a meaning will be given to words corre-
spondent with the nature of the subject. Now as scientific use
agrees with Scripture use, and with the prevailing use in common
discourse, what valid objection can be made against it 2 If we
interpret the language relative to this subject according to the ac-
knowledged principles of interpretation, giving it a meaning corre-
sponding with the mature and circumstances of the case, how
easily should we rid ourselves of difficulty And is it a mark of
candor and enlargedness of mind, to indulge a prejudice against
modes of speech which have long been in good use, or to insist
upon fixing a meaning upon them, foreign to the manifest design
for which they are employed 7
President Edwards and others say, that “moral necessity may
be as absolute as natural necessity; that is, a moral effect may be
as perfectly connected with its moral cause, as a natural, necessary
effect is, with its natural cause.” The truth of this must be evi-
dent, if we look at particular instances of moral necessity. The
moral perfections of God are moral causes. The effect connected
with them or resulting from them, is holy, and benevolent action.
Such a being as God cannot do wrong. He must do right. To
suppose that infinite, immutable righteousness and goodness will
lead to anything but right action, is absurd. The sincere love of
believers to Christ is a moral cause, and is invariably connected
with obedience, as its effect. “He that loveth me keepeth my
words.” The effect follows from the very nature of love. It
140 C A U S E A N D EFFECT .
cannot be otherwise. If we know that any one truly loves Christ,
we know that he will obey Christ. And if any one does not obey,
we know he does not love. The carnal mind is a moral cause,
and is certainly connected with its effect, which is transgression of
God’s law. They in whom this cause exists, Paul says, “cannot
he subject to the law,” and “cannot please God.” Disobedience
must follow from the carnal, selfish heart, as certainly as any
natural effect follows from a natural cause. These things are
very plain. Now because right or wrong action is the certain re-
sult of moral causes, does it follow that the action is neither right
nor wrong 3 Because moral causes produce their effect as cer-
tainly and invariably as physical causes, does it follow that the
effect is a physical effect : Because there is as real an influ-
ence in the one case as in the other, does it follow that the influ-
ence is of the same nature ? It does certainly result from the
corrupt passions and desires of man, that offences will take place.
There is a necessity for this. So the original word &vºyan signifies.
Matt. 18: 7. But can we conclude that this necessity is of the
same nature with physical necessity ? Or can we conclude that
the offences which flow from it are destitute of a moral nature,
and deserve no blame, because this is the case with the effects of
a physical necessity ? Here is the great mistake. And if any
one falls into this mistake, he will be likely to go wrong on the
whole subject. It certainly is a mistake. It is not true, that if
the influence of moral causes is as invariable, as the influence of
physical causes, the effects must be of the same nature with phy-
sical effects. It certainly is not true, that because the unquench-
able love of Paul’s heart had as certain an influence to lead him
to preach the gospel, as the power of steam has to propel an en-
gine, therefore he was no more praise-worthy for preaching, than
an engine is for moving. Because the infinite perfection of God
does as certainly result in holy and benevolent action, as the
power of gravitation produces its appropriate effect, and because
it is as really impossible for God to lie, as it is for gravitation to
produce an effect contrary to its nature, it certainly does not fol-
low that holy action in God has no more excellence or praise-
C. A U S E A N D E FFE C T . 14.1
worthiness, than, the effect of gravitation in material bodies.
Moral and physical causes are in their nature entirely different.
The fact that they are all causes, does not make them the same
causes, or like causes. If moral causes have an influence which
is equally powerful with physical causes, and which equally pre-
vents or takes away all resistance, this does not alter the nature
of the causes, nor the mature of their influence, nor the nature of
the effects produced. To suppose that it does is the great mis-
take. If any one makes this mistake, he may easily correct it,
if he will lay aside the technical language which occasions the
difficulty, and speak of cases where moral causes exist and ope-
rate, in plain, common language, and for practical purposes — if,
instead of saying that God acts under the influence of moral
necessity, he will say, his actions flow from his infinite wisdom
and goodness — if instead of Saying, that Christians are influ-
enced by a moral necessity, he will say, their love and gratitude
to Christ, and their benevolence to their fellow men, are motives
which influence them to pious and benevolent actions — and if,
instead of saying, that sinners act as they do, from a moral
necessity, he will say, they act from the selfishness, the pride, and
the desperate wickedness of their hearts. By contemplating
these common and well known facts, as eayressed in common lam-
guage, all unprejudiced men might become satisfied. And why
should not scientific men be equally satisfied, when the same facts
are expressed in Scientific language 7 But if any of us have a
dislike to the scientific language of Edwards and others on the
present subject, let us take care that we do not impute to them a
meaning which never entered their minds, and that we do not
deny or overlook what is plainly a matter of fact, whether it is
expressed in common or in Scientific language.
The word fatalism denotes the opposite of the doctrine, that
we are free, moral, accountable beings, under the government
of a wise, righteous and benevolent God and are either praise-
worthy or blame-worthy for our conduct. It may be proper
and useful then, to consider it as including these several points.
142 - C. A U S E A N D EFFECT .
Now in order to satisfy ourselves whether the doctrine of moral
necessity involves fatalism, we must have a clear conception of
what moral necessity is. And it will be just and right to consider
it to be what its most intelligent advocates represent it to be ; that
is, the certain and invariable connection of moral causes and moral
effects. The doctrine implies that all the external voluntary ac-
tions of men, and all their inward affections, purposes, etc., result
from motives operating in or upon the mind. Now, does moral
necessity, thus explained, involve fatalism, or lead to it? Does it
imply the particulars which go to make up fatalism 3" -
All that belongs to the doctrine of moral necessity, as stated by
Edwards, appears to me to be a matter of direct consciousness.
I am sure that I act in the manner described; and I am sure
that I am a free, moral, accountable being, because I do act in
this manner. I want no support for the doctrine, but my own
consciousness. And whenever I have been embarrassed in my
reflections respecting it, it has been the consequence of my mis-
taking the import of the terms by which the doctrine is expressed,
or of my suffering speculative reasoning, to interfere with the
decision of consciousness.
. I ask those for proof, who affirm, that the theory of moral me-
cessity is incompatible with free, moral, accountable agency. Let
them show in what respects it is incompatible. Let them bring
forward some instance in which a free moral agent ever did delib-
erately act otherwise than according to that theory.
President Day cites the remark of Cousin, that “the theory
of Locke concerning freedom tended to fatalism;” and then he
says: “Calling in the aid of an odious appellation, is a very con-
Venient and Summary mode of confuting an opponent. It has a
special advantage when the name which is substituted for argu-
ment, is so indefinite and mysterious, that the reader is in no
danger of discovering its meaning. Fatalism is commonly under-
stood to be Something heathenish. But it has assumed such a
diversity of forms, that it is sufficiently unintelligible to answer
* As this subject has been sufficiently considered in the Lectures and elsewhere
in the foregoing volumes; the particular discussion of it is here omitted.
C A U S E A N D EFFECT . I-3
the purpose of an argument, which is most efficacious when least
understood. It would be a more simple, if not a more satisfactory
mode of reasoning, to offer direct proof of the reality of contingent
self-determination. —Whatever was meant by the fatalism of the
ancients, it did not imply that all the changes in the world are
under the guidance of a Being of infinite wisdom and infinite
goodness. – It is urged that the fatalists refer every change to a
cause. So do believers in self-determination; not excepting even
acts of the will. —Is it fatalism to believe, that he who formed
the soul of man can so touch the springs of its action as to influ-
ence the will, without interfering with the freedom of its choice 7
Is a chain of causes, suspended from the throne of nonentity, to
be likened to the purposes and agency of the omniscient Creator :
Is it fatalism to believe, that motives may have a real influence
in determining volition, and that they may be presented by the
providence of God; that the state of the heart has also some con-
cern in giving direction to our acts of choice, and that this native
or acquired state is not always the product of chance 7–The
object of our inquiry is to learn whether moral acts are determined
by accident. If they are not, does it certainly follow that they
must be subject to the fates of the heathen 7 Is there no room
left for any effectual influence from infinite wisdom and be
nevolence 7”
“The suggestion that a denial of contingent self-determination
leads to pantheism, is as indefinite in its application, as the charge
of fatalism. The doctrine of pantheism, as held by Spinoza and
his followers, is that the universe is God. —What has this to do
with the dependence of volition on the state of the heart, and the
influence of motives 7 — If in God we live and move and have our
being, does it follow that our life is his life, our motion his motion,
our existence his existence 2 Is it pantheism to believe that he
worketh in us both to will and to do º Does such agency of his
imply, that there is neither willing nor acting on our part 2 that
there is really but one agent in the universe ?”"
The duty of self-denial is sometimes thought to militate against
* Day on the Will, Sect. 9.
144 C. A U S E A N D EFFECT .
the doctrine of Edwards, and to prove that our volitions do not al-
ways follow our strongest desires, or that we do not always choose
according to our strongest motive. The writer of the Essay says:
“Do you not at times practise self-denial, and does this consist in
choosing that which is at the time of choice the most agreeable 7”
Again he says: “The Bible never teaches that self-denial con-
sists in choosing that which seems most agreeable.” Now, in my
opinion, the duty of self-denial does plainly exemplify the principle
that we are governed by the strongest motive. When a Christian
denies himself, he does indeed act against certain inclinations and
desires, which operate as motives. Sometimes these are very
strong. And how could they be overcome without something
stronger. Why does the Christian deny these inferior desires
and motives 2 Because he is influenced by love to Christ, which
is an affection of a higher and nobler kind than any which he de-
nies. It is his supreme motive. He is willing even to lose his
life for Christ’s sake. He hates his earthly relations in com-
parison with Christ, that is, he loves Christ above them. So the
apostles acted. Love to Christ constrained them. Under its
influence they chose to deny themselves in regard to all their
worldly inclinations. It was the most agreeable to them, as fol-
lowers of Christ, to do this. It was most gratifying to their su-
preme desire. If any one should deny himself, without this
superior motive, it would not be Christian self-denial. The de-
sires of the natural, unrenewed mind are very strong, and no one
will ever subdue them, unless he has a motive of Superior strength.
The strong man cannot be disarmed and overcome, except by one
that is “stronger than he.” Luke 11: 22.
If a man half believes the doctrine of Edwards; or if he be-
lieves it under a misapprehension of what it is ; or if he believes
it with a true apprehension of its nature, but gives it undue impor-
tance ; or if he entertains the speculative belief in a heart desti-
tute of holiness; —in either of these cases, the consequences of
his belief will probably be permicious. And it is the same with
regard to all moral and religious truth. But let a man of clear
understanding, and decided piety, rightly apprehend and cordially
C. A U S E A N D EFFECT . 145
believe this doctrine, and the consequences will be salutary. The
men who speak of the bad influence of believing moral necessity,
are those who do not believe it. But what intelligent, good man
ever believed it, without experiencing happy effects from it? We
have all along heard it alleged that the doctrine has a bad tenden-
cy. But we have never discovered such a tendency. It has been
lodged in the minds of multitudes of the wisest and best men. But
they have all found its influence to be favorable to morality and
piety. While those who declaim against it, and say that the belief
of it has a pernicious effect, are those who do not believe it. It
is my full conviction that the doctrine is the doctrine of the
Bible, presented in a scientific form, and arrayed against hurtful
errors; that it tends to honor God, to humble man, and to promote
growth in grace, and that if we should embrace the antagonist
doctrine, we should suffer loss.
One point more. The author of the Essay says: “According
to the doctrine of free agency, the mind of man is endowed with
a constitutional desire for happiness, which is the steady, abiding
feeling of the mind, and is the mainspring of all the mental
activity included in volition.” Is this true : Do all our choices
and voluntary actions proceed from Self-love, or a desire for our
own happiness 2 If so, then there is clearly a “uniform, invari-
able” connection of volition with an antecedent motive. And this
“uniform, invariable antecedence” would, according to the author,
involve the essence of fatalism ; and the fatalism would be univer-
sal, leaving no place for free moral agency. For if “the desire
for happiness is the mainspring of all the mental activity included
in volition,” that is, of all voluntary action; then all voluntary
action stands in an invariable connection with one and the same
antecedent motive, and, of course, excludes what the author calls
free agency.
I am, however, far from admitting that self-love, or the desire
of our own happiness, is “the mainspring” of all voluntary
action. But I must content myself with a few brief observations
on the subject. -
WOL. W. 13
146 CAUSE AND EFFECT .
That self-love is not the spring of all voluntary action, is, I
think, evident.
First, there are many principles and some of them very pow-
erful principles in the human mind, which prove springs of that
mental action which is involved in volition. Love of offspring,
pity for the distressed, gratitude for favors, and other natural
affections are as truly elements of our mental constitution, as the
desire of our own happiness; and each one of them is as truly a
spring of voluntary action, as self-love. How then can self-love
be the spring of all voluntary action ? We can say with truth,
it is one of the springs of action. In all minds, it is a powerful
spring. But is it therefore the only spring 7 In some minds it
is the most powerful spring, — the Supreme motive, – the motive,
it may be, which governs almost exclusively. But because this is
the case in some minds, can we conclude that it is so in all 3
Take the man, who loves God with all his heart and soul. Has
he no spring of action above the desire of his own happiness?
Is not his affection to God a motive distinct from self-love, and
of a far higher and nobler nature ? And do not those who
maintain, that a desire for happiness is the spring of all voluntary
action, manifestly overlook important principles, and attempt to
simplify beyond nature, and in opposition to truth : They dis-
cover that self-love is a very powerful motive to action, and
thence conclude that it is the only one. Others, who find grati-
tude to be a powerful motive to action might, with the same
justice, conclude that this is the only motive. And others
again, finding that pity for the distressed operates as a motive to
exertion, might lose sight of everything else, and hold that all
our actions result from pity.
As there are many motives of volition, besides self-love, so
there are some motives which are of superior moral worth. Sup-
pose you know that a man performs an action or makes a sacrifice
from pure love to God, or to man, without the least reference in
his thoughts or feelings to his own private good. Do you not at
Once pronounce it a deed of uncommon excellence 2 "Even that
benevolence which is mixed with other things, and of which we
C A U S E A N D EFFECT . 147
can only say, that it has more influence than self-love, is regarded
as a virtue. But that benevolence which is wholly disinterested,
i. e., which does not proceed from any aim, direct or indirect, to
promote our own gratification, is the object of universal admira-
tion. And how many seek that admiration by appearing to
be actuated by such benevolence, though really destitute of it.
It may perhaps be said, that while we are influenced by love
to God or to man, we experience pleasure ; and from this it
may be inferred, that a desire for this pleasure is at bottom the
mainspring of all moral action, and that all our other motives are
to be resolved into this. But what is there in logic, or in expe
rience, which can justify such an inference 7 The fact that we
are pleased with the accomplishment of any object, as the honor
of God, or the good of man, implies that we love that object
antecedently to the pleasure we enjoy in it. Without the ex-
istence of such love to the object, how could the promotion of it
give pleasure ? The pleasure results from the prečxistent af-
fection, and not the affection from a wish to obtain pleasure.
No one can doubt, that a desire for our own happiness is often
the spring of our voluntary actions. But does it follow from this,
that it is always so 7 How can that be considered as a motive to
action, which is in no way contemplated by us — which is not
before the mind as an object of thought or desire, at the time of
action ? Look at a loving father, who, at the hazard of his own
life, rushes into the water or the fire to rescue his little children.
What moves him to do this 7 Is it a desire for his own gratifi-
cation or pleasure ? But he will tell you, he had no thought of
this, and that he was urged on to do what he did, by the love
and pity of his heart for his dear, suffering children. If he
succeeded in preserving their life, he did indeed experience a high
degree of pleasure, as a consequence. But to say that a desire
for that pleasure was the motive of the parent’s efforts, would be
a contradiction to his own consciousness, and an abuse of lan-
guage. And Surely a devout Christian may, sometimes at least,
be so influenced, so constrained, so borne on by love to Christ,
that all thought of himself and all desire for his own gratification
148 C. A U S E A N D EFFECT .
will be excluded, and his fervent, holy love become the great
and only motive of action. Facts of this kind certainly occur
in the history of God’s people. In how many instances are
Christians, at the commencement of their course, and afterwards,
conscious of loving God and rejoicing in his government, without
any reference in their thoughts to their own interests, temporal
or eternal 2 And is not such pure love to God, such a rising
above private interest, and such annihilation of self generally
regarded as among the clearest marks of holiness, and as what
may be expected to exist in proportion to the measure of Sanc-
tification ? The unregenerate are “lovers of themselves.”
They have no moral affection of a higher character than self-love.
But can it be the same with those who bear the image of Christ?
Is there no object in the universe which they love, except in sub-
serviency to their own personal welfare 2 Is all duty performed
by Saints and angels from that one principle 7 To suppose this
seems to me as unphilosophical and untrue, as to suppose that all
the operations in the natural world are to be traced to the power
of steam, or to electricity. True philosophy leads us to account
for the phenomena in the natural world by a great variety of prin-
ciples or laws, many of which are entirely distinct from each
other. And why should it not lead us to do the same in the moral
world, and to trace the actions of intelligent, moral beings, to all
that variety of principles or motives, from which they evidently
result : Why should we refuse to admit what is so manifest, that
a variety of causes or springs of action as really exist and oper-
ate in the world of mind, as in the world of matter?
REPLY TO IN QUIRE R. 149
R E PLY TO “IN QUIRE R.” +
THE writer, whose questions and remarks I shall now consider,
conceals his name, and calls himself “Inquirer.” He doubtless
has sufficient reasons for Writing anonymously. But what weight
is there in the reasons which he suggests in his “Apology?” He
thinks he may be allowed to conceal his name, because he does
not come forward as a teacher, but as a learner. But why is it
less proper for one, who presents himself before the public as an
“Inquirer’’ and learner, to make known his real name, than for
one who presents himself as a teacher ? It is certainly very honor-
able for a man to “take the attitude of a learner; ” especially if,
in that modest attitude, he manifests high intellectual attainments,
and gives his readers reason to think that he is able to teach as
well as to learn.
But I have no disposition to complain of “Inquirer,” for not
giving his name to the public. Nor will I evade the task of
answering his inquiries because he writes anonymously. As the
questions are important, I will seriously attend to them, without
being anxious to know from whom they come. I am very willing
to converse with persons behind the curtain, whose words I hear,
but whose faces I have not the pleasure to see, on condition that
they treat subjects with propriety, and show by their words, that
they are worthy of respect, as the two anonymous writers do, with
whom I am concerned in these discussions. After all, it must
seem rather singular for me, in my own name, to be publicly dis-
cussing subjects with two writers, possessed of no ordinary powers
of mind, but who conceal their names. I however make no objec-
tion. Still one in my case cannot be quite certain how the thing
will end. If I should commit mistakes, or if I should be unsuc-
* First published in the Am, Bib. Repos., 1840 and 1841, in reply to “Inquirer
April, 1840.
13*
150 REPLY TO IN QUIRE R.
cessful in my efforts, and so expose myself to shame, I might wish
I had done as others have done, and wisely availed myself of the
benefit of concealment. On the other hand, if my respected, but
anonymous friends find, as they may, that they have escaped the
hazards of authorship, and have gained honor to themselves by
their anonymous publications; it will be easy for them to prevent
mistakes and to let the world know to whom the honor belongs.
It is well understood, how much more difficult it is to answer
questions, than it is to ask them. And what if I should think it
best, by and by, to invert the present order, and to take upon
myself, as I have a right to do, the humbler and easier task of
asking questions, and to transfer to “Inquirer,” the more honor-
able and difficult task of answering them : And if a man of
such obvious and eminent characteristics as he possesses, should
proceed a little further in laying open his mind, and should be as
free in answering as he has been in asking questions, he might
perhaps make himself sufficiently known without the form of giving
his name.
“Inquirer” says, he finds “difficulties in most of the systems
of mental philosophy.” which he reads. It is implied, that he does
not find difficulties in all of them ; that there is at least some
one system, in which he finds no difficulties. I would then at
once “take the attitude of a learner,” and ask him what that
system is. To me all systems of mental philosophy have had
their difficulties. I have not been able to fix upon any system,
however well supported by argument, against which speculative
objections and difficulties could not be urged. And if I had
refused to believe every fruth, or system of truths, which was
exposed to difficulties that I could not fully obviate, I should have
believed nothing. If, however, “Inquirer’” has found a system
which is encumbered with no difficulties, as his expression seems
to imply, he will confer a great favor on me, and on many others,
by making us acquainted with it. But, for the present, I am fully
convinced, that the only safe and proper way is, to believe that
which is proved by sufficient evidence, especially by Scripture evi-
dence, whatever speculative difficulties may attend it. If our faith
REPLY TO IN QUIRER. 151
in divine truth is shaken, if it in the least degree wavers, on
account of insolvable difficulties, we shall suffer a loss that can-
not be measured.
But what “Inquirer” says afterwards, shows that we may have
mistaken his meaning, and that he did not intend to signify that
he was acquainted with any system of mental philosophy which is
free from difficulties. For he says, distinctly, that he has not found
“terra firma extensive enough to choose his dwelling-place;” and
he is looking for “new treatises,” making improvements upon all
the old systems. He shows a commendable zeal for the advance-
ment of mental science, and thinks “it is time that more were
said and done in relation to this great subject.” With a little
modification my opinion coincides with his. I would say, “it is
time that more,” or less, “were said and done.” On this sub-
ject, especially, Smattering is to be deprecated. “Drink deep,
or taste not.” -
“Inquirer” says, he never can love dispute, until he has “a
new taste, ’’ and speaks of this as my philosophical word. I was
somewhat surprised that he should call the word taste, used met-
aphorically in relation to the mind, a philosophical word. For I
supposed that the precision required in philosophical discourse led
philosophers, as far as possible, to avoid metaphorical words. Fig-
urative language is most freely used in poetry, eloquence and
common discourse. The analogy between taste in the literal sense,
and an inclination or desire of the mind, is very obvious; and
accordingly the word has been very frequently used to express
such an inclination or desire. It is a just and striking figure, not a
philosophical term. But if it were a philosophical word, I know
not why he should call it mine, as though I had invented it, or as
though I used it more than others. The word has been familiarly
used by the best English writers, and by the standard divines of
New England. This I might easily show. But I shall content
myself with citing a single passage from a recent and well-known
writer, the Rev. Moses Stuart, my respected colleague. Speaking
of infants, he says: “To enjoy the sacred pleasures of that place,”
(heaven,) “there must be a positive taste for them. If now infants
152 REPLY TO IN QUIRER.
are saved, (which I do hope and trust is the case,) then there
must be such a relish implanted in their souls for the holy joys of
heaven. Is there nothing, then, which Christ by his Spirit can
do for them, in imparting such a taste?"
One word more by way of introduction. My own experience
has taught me, that there are many and very stubborn difficulties
hanging around the subject before us, whenever contemplated in
a speculative and theoretic manner. To untie all the knots which
can be untied, and to determine clearly those which cannot, is no
easy task. Whoever attempts to do this—whoever undertakes
to answer the hardest questions, which the most powerful intellect
can propose on this hardest of all subjects, ought to have time and
space given him, and to be treated with a good measure of pa-
tience and candid allowance by his readers.
The first topic which “Inquirer’’ introduces, relates to the
sinner’s inability. He refers to my question respecting one who
is unregenerate. “While he remains in his natural state, can he,
by the power of his will, prevent it,” (i. e. the feeling of enmity,)
“and call forth the affection of love, and so be subject to the law
of God?” This question he rightly understands as implying that
the sinner cannot do this. The difficulties which he suggests in
relation to this subject, may be summed up in the single question,
TWhat is the sense of the words “can’’ and “cannot,’” as here
vsed? - -
I must begin my remarks by saying, that I feel utterly unable
to do anything which can be satisfactory to “Inquirer” unless he
admits the distinction so often made by distinguished writers be-
tween the different senses in which the words can and cannot are
used. That they are used in senses which are essentially differ-
ent from each other, is manifest. If we can satisfy ourselves
what these senses are, and then determine definitely which of
them is to be given to the words when used in relation to the
present subject, we shall have a prospect of arriving at a just
conclusion.
* Commentary on Romans, Edit. 1832, Excursus Iv. p. 549.
REPLY TO IN QUIR ER. º 153
The distinction referred to is between natu, al and moral ina-
bility; — i.e. between inability used in a natural sense, or in
relation to natural objects, and in a moral sense, or in relation to
moral objects. In the first sense, it is, as Fuller describes it,
“a want of rational faculties, bodily powers or external advan-
tages.” It is such a want of natural powers or faculties of body
or mind, or such a want of the necessary means or opportunities,
as excludes obligation, and prevents blame-worthiness. “Inquirer’”
doubtless knows how Edwards, Bellamy, Smalley, Fuller and
other-writers illustrate this kind of inability, and how clearly they
show, that it excludes obligation and ill-desert; as when a man
cannot see because he has no eyes; or cannot walk because his
limbs are palsied; cannot understand Newton’s Principia for want
of sufficient strength of intellect; or cannot pay his debts, though
he makes all possible efforts to do it. In all cases of this kind, the
inability is of such a nature as to exclude obligation. That which
hinders the performance is such, that there can be no blame.
Natural impossibility is explained in the same way; — natural
necessity is the opposite. A thing takes place by a natural neces-
sity, when it certainly results from the operation of natural
causes, as the falling of a stone, or a man’s going to a place when
compelled against his will. -
Moral inability is that which results from moral causes, such as
the dispositions and habits of the mind. In this sense, a man is
unable to do a thing, when he is effectually hindered by his own
inclinations, or the state of his mind. When we say: “God cannot
lie,” we set forth that moral excellence of his character, which
certainly prevents him from doing wrong. And when we say of
a just judge, that he cannot take a bribe, and of a kind mother,
that she cannot forget her child, we refer to a hinderance of a
moral kind. The just judge is prevented from taking a bribe by
moral integrity, and the mother from forgetting her child, by mater-
mal love. In all cases like these, the greater the inability, in
other words, the greater the hinderance in the way of doing
the thing mentioned, the more praise-worthy is the person. Here
moral inability results from moral excellence, or is involved in it.
154 REPLY TO IN QUIRER.
Again; a person in this moral sense is unable to do right when
he is hindered from doing it by some wrong disposition or habit of
mind; as when we say, that a man of a malevolent, revengeful
temper cannot love his enemy, or that a miser cannot give away
his money, or that a man of a low, base character cannot do a
generous, noble deed. It is this sort of inability, to which the
sacred writers evidently refer, when they teach, that those who
are accustomed to do evil, cannot learn to do well; that those
who receive honor of men cannot believe ; that those who have
the carnal mind cannot please God. In all such cases, the great-
er the inability—i. e. the greater that sinful disposition or habit
of mind which hinders a man from doing right — the greater is his
blame-worthiness. This is plain. If any one demies it, he will
soon contradict himself. It is a practical truth. Whatever is
doubtful, this is certain, that, in the sight of God, and in the
view of every unperverted mind, a man is criminal and ill-de-
serving, in proportion to the strength of that wrong disposition,
affection or habit of mind which hinders him from doing his duty.
Thus it appears that the distinction between natural and moral
inability is perfectly manifest, and exceedingly important. Nat-
wral inability excludes obligation and blame. If it is entire, it
entirely excludes blame. Moral inability to do wrong implies
moral excellence. If it exists in the highest degree, as it does in
God, it denotes the highest degree of excellence. In man, it im-
plies goodness and praise-worthiness in proportion to its degree.
On the other hand, moral inability to do right implies ill-desert,
and implies it in proportion to the inability. Whenever the
sacred writers predicate this inability of the sinner, they do it to
set forth his criminality. And were it not that our moral senses
are blunted by sin, we should always so understand it. If any
rational, moral being should say of himself, or if another should
say of him, that he cannot love the all-perfect, glorious God, we
should be impressed with his baseness, and should exclaim, how
desperately wicked must his heaſt be /
In regard to the expression of mine, above referred to, imply-
ing that the unrenewed sinner cannot call forth the affection of
R. EPL Y TO IN QUIR. E. R. 155
love to God and so be subject to his law, I might at once resort to
the Scriptures which make the same representation. The
passages in which they familiarly do this, are well known. Now
the single fact, that men, who spake as they were moved by the
Holy Ghost, frequently affirmed that unrenewed sinners cannot
believe and obey, is, by itself, sufficient to justify us in using the
same language on the same subject. What better reason can we
have for any doctrine, or for any mode of teaching it than that we
find it in the infallible word of God? Did not the inspired writers
use words correctly? Had they not good reason to speak as they
did Ž And when we speak of the same subject, and with reference
to the same aspect of the subject, have we not good reason to speak
in the same manner 7 —The word of God does indeed need ea:-
planation. But does it need mending 3 This then is the stand I
take. Christ and the apostles were right. They taught the truth;
and the manner of their teaching was just and unexceptionable.
And they are good examples for us. It is allowed by all that
their language was intended for common people, and suited to
common apprehension. So that, whatever we may say respect-
ing the proper language of philosophy or metaphysics, we are sure,
that the language of the Bible is the proper language of those who
preach the gospel. I am aware that some preachers at the pres-
ent day are not accustomed to use the language of Scripture on
this subject. When it comes in their way, and when it would be
natural for them to make use of it, they still avoid it, and substi-
tute language which is different and opposite. In the very place,
where Christ and the apostles unhesitatingly say that the unre-
newed sinner cannot believe and obey, these preachers unhesitat-
ingly say he can. Now, soberly,if I should discover anything like
this in myself; if when the inspired writers are accustomed to use
one mode of speaking, I should be accustomed to use the opposite;
if I should detect in myself this practice of shunning the language
of the Bible, and using the opposite in its place ; I should think it
high time for me to be alarmed at my want of reverence for the
word of God, and to inquire for the cause which had turned me
aside. I know, for a certainty, that Christ and the apostles had a
156 REPLY TO IN QUIRER.
just view of our nature and relations. They understood human
obligation, and the grounds of it. They understood moral agency
and the philosophy of moral agency. And yet they declared, that
sinners cannot believe and obey. They affirmed this repeatedly,
and without qualification. And certainly they knew, better than
we do, how to teach divine truth, and how to guard against what-
ever would expose men to mistake. Nor do we find that they
used different language at different times, sometimes saying that
sinners cannot obey, and sometimes, that they can. I start back
from anything either in principle or practice, which implies that
the words of inspiration are not fit to be used in popular religious
discourse, and which would lead us to introduce language of a dif-
ferent import, when speaking on the same subject, and in the same
connection.
“Inquirer” refers to several instances, in which can is used in
Scripture, and common parlance, with an implied negative, signi-
fying that the thing spoken of is “very difficult, very revolting or
very improbable; and then asks, whether this is the sense in which
I mean the word to be understood here. To this I reply in the
negative. And if “Inquirer” will go along with me a little in
the examination, he will see the reason why I cannot admit this
to be the right sense of the word.
It is an acknowledged principle, that if a definition or explana-
tion of a word is right, that explanation may be substituted for
the word without injuring the sense. Now let the correctness
of the above explanation be tested by this principle. Say then
that the cannot in the cases referred to merely signifies, as “In-
quirer” expresses it, that the thing spoken of is “very difficult,
revolting, or improbable;” and substitute any or all of these
words in place of the Scripture word to be explained, and see
how it will work. First, take the language of the prophet: “Can
the Ethiopian change his skin, or the leopard his spots? Then
may ye also, who are accustomed to do evil, learn to do well.”
The passage clearly and strongly implies, that the Ethiopian can-
not change his skin, or the leopard his spots, and that those who
are accustomed to do evil cannot learn to do well. Try now the
REPLY TO IN QUIRE R. 157
explanation above proposed. Begin with the word “difficult,”
thus: As it is “very difficult” for the Ethiopian to change his
skin, and the leopard his spots, so it is for those who are accus-
tomed to do evil, to learn to do well. Next try “revolting:”
As it is “very revolting” for the Ethiopian to change his skin —
so it is for the habitual transgressor to turn from sin to holiness.
Finally, try “improbable:” As it is “very improbable” that the
Ethiopian will change his skim, so it is, that sinners, long accus-
tomed to do evil, will learn to do well. Again; take the text,
John 15:4, in which Christ says to some : “How can ye believe,
who receive honor one of another, and seek not the honor which
cometh from God only 7” signifying emphatically, that such per-
sons cannot believe ; and let it be explained as above. It is “very
difficult” for them to believe, who receive honor one of another;
or, it is “very revolting” to them; or it is “very improbable”
that they will believe. Again; take that momentous declaration
of Christ: “No man can come unto me, except the Father who
hath sent me draw him.” According to the proposed explanation,
it would read thus: It is “very difficult” for any man to come
to Christ, except he is drawn of the Father; or it is “very re-
volting” to him; or it is “very improbable” that any sinner will
come to Christ, without special divine influence. Again; “With-
out me ye can do nothing.” Explained as above: It is “very
difficult” for you to do anything, or it is “very improbable” that
you will do anything, without me. Take one passage more, Rom.
8: 7, 8; “The carnal mind—is not subject to the law of God,
neither indeed can be.” Explaimed: It is “very difficult and
revolting” for the carnal mind to be subject to the law, and it is
“very improbable” that it ever will be subject. —“So then
they that are in the flesh cannot please God.” That is to say;
it is “very difficult” for the unregenerate to please God, and
“very improbable” that they will please him.
Thus it appears that this first explanation proposed by “In-
quirer,” fails to give the true meaning of the inspired writers.
And he is right in thinking it “very improbable,” that I under-
stand the word cannot in such a sense.
WOL. W. 14
158 REPLY TO IN QUIRER.
“He” proceeds to suggest another view of the subject, namely:
“that the unregenerate man has actually no power to love God
and be subject to his law,” and that it is “actually and absolute-
ly impossible” for him to do it. He seems to suppose that this
is the view which I adopt. How easy it is for him to make out
a meaning for me, and to state it in his own words, and then to
urge arguments against it, as though it were really my meaning.
But on such a subject it is important to use language which is
umambiguous and plain. The phrases, “no power” and “actu-
ally and absolutely impossible” are ambiguous, being used in
very different senses. There is certainly a wide difference be-
tween “no power” or total inability in one of these senses, and
in the other. Who is ignorant of the distinction, which is so ob-
vious and so commonly recognized, between a natural inability
and impossibility, and a moral 2 On this subject, I go with New
England divines. And I do heartily, though not with an implicit,
or undistinguishing faith, coincide with them in opinion. The ex-
planations given by Edwards, Smalley, and others do, in my opin-
ion, afford all the satisfaction which can be had, respecting this
subject. A subtle and skeptical mind may embarrass this sub-
ject by endless objections and cavils. But after all, we shall
find that every important truth respecting it is obvious and cer-
tain.
There is what we call a natural inability, consisting in the want
of those powers and faculties which are essential to a moral, ac-
countable agent, and without which there can be no obligation to
obey the divine law. But no inability of this kind belongs to sin-
ners. The fact mentioned by “Inquirer,” namely, that God
requires all men to obey his commands, does certainly imply that
they ought to obey, and of course that they have no inability
which interferes with the justice of such a requisition, or with
their perfect obligation to comply with it. I am far from holding
that sinners have “no power” of any kind to obey, or that it is,
in every sense, “impossible” for them to obey. As to those pow-
ers and faculties, or that ability which makes them fit subjects
of a moral law, I maintain that they possess it perfectly. So that
*
REPL Y TO IN QUIRE R. 159
they have no need of any new mental faculties, or any increase
of their natural ability, in order to their actual obedience.
It follows, that when the Scriptures teach, that simmers cannot
obey, they must refer to the other kind of inability. And hele
I come to the explanation which “Inquirer” calls for. The ima-
bility of sinners is their strong disinclination or aversion to holi-
mess; their settled, unyielding opposition of heart to do the will
of God. This sinful disinclination or aversion is such, that it is
not sufficient to say, it makes it “very difficult” for sinners to
obey, or “very improbable" that they will obey. It is a certain
hinderance to obedience, and will be forever, unless removed by
the renewing of the Holy Ghost. No motives presented to the
mind, and no means whatever can overcome it without the re-
generating influence of the Spirit. It is a disinclination and
aversion of heart so strong and invincible, that it prevents obedi-
ence as certainly and effectually, as a natural impossibility could ;
So that the sacred writers are perfectly justified in calling it a
cannot, and in representing a change by the divine Spirit as ab–
Solutely necessary to bring man to faith and obedience. This has
been the doctrine of the Christian church in all ages; and what is
more, it is the doctrine of THE BIBLE. We know there is a sense
in which sinners cannot obey, because the word of God so repre-
sents it. It must be an important sense, or the inspired writers
would not have asserted it so emphatically. And it must be an
obvious sense, suggested by the very nature of the subject, or the
inspired writers would not have asserted it so directly, and left it,
without any qualification, to be apprehended by plain common
sense. We are sure they had good reason to express their mean-
ing just as they did, and to say, that unrenewed sinners cannot
believe and obey. And as sinners are, in this respect, the same
in all ages, we have good reason to speak of them as the Sacred
writers did. And when, with this moral aspect of the subject
before us, we teach, in the very language of inspiration, that sin-
mers cannot believe and obey, we no more furnish an excuse for
their unbelief and disobedience, than Christ and the apostles did.
Indeed, the more strongly we affirm this, in the proper connection,
160 R. EPLY TO IN QUIRER.
the more impressively do we teach the inexcusable wickedness of
sinners. For the inability of sinners is of such a mature, that the
higher it rises, and the more absolute it is, the more heinous is
their guilt. And we may at any time make this perfectly plain,
if instead of the word cannot, we merely employ other words,
which clearly express the same meaning. Thus, if instead of
saying that sinners cannot believe and obey, we take words of the
same import, and say, they are wholly disinclined to do it, that
they have an absolute aversion, an obstinate unwillingness to obey,
which no argument can overcome ; every one sees that we mean
to charge them with great wickedness. To be totally disinclined
to do right, and inclined to do wrong, is the very essence of sin.
This then is the answer I give to the first question of “In-
quirer,'” and it is the best answer I can give.
But while we are, in a proper connection, to affirm that sinners
cannot obey God; are we to affirm this in all cases, and whatever
may be the drift of discourse 2 By no means. When it is our
object to describe men as rational and accountable agents, and
to show what necessarily belongs to them as the proper subjects
of the divine law, we must represent them as endued with com-
petent powers and faculties; in other words, with a natural ability,
commensurate with the divine requirements; so that if they fail
of obedience, it will not be for want of any of the requisite natural
endowments. These endowments constitute the proper ground of
obligation. &
But there is an important sense in which they cannot obey.
Those who have been thoroughly convinced of sin know, by their
own experience, that sinners cannot come to Christ, unless the
Father draw them, and they know too in what the inability consists.
Now when we are speaking of men in a religious point of view ;
when our object is to decribe them as sinners, or to show what is
their moral character and state, and to induce them to look to
Christ for salvation; then truth requires us to use the language
of the inspired writers, and to make the alarming, humbling repre-
sentation, that sinners cannot believe, or do anything spiritually
good. Unless we tell sinners this, how do we tell them the whole
truth :
REPLY TO IN QUIRER. 161
There is one point more to be considered, though it must be very
briefly. “Inquirer’’ asks whether the inability of an unsanc-
tified man is such, “as precludes the possibility of his changing his
present state for a better one.” And if so, then he asks, what
We are to say of the command, “make you a new heart, and a new
spirit.” I reply: This command, which is of the same import
with the command to repent, or the command to turn from sin, is
obligatory upon sinners, for the same reasons that all other moral
precepts are. God’s commands are holy, just, and good ; and
they certainly do not cease to be binding upon us because we are
disinclined to obey, or because our disinclination is so strong, that
nothing but the renewing influence of the Spirit can remove it
and bring us to cordial obedience. Now it is clear, that we are
under no other inability or impossibility to comply with the com-
mand to change from a sinful to a holy state, than the inability
we are under in regard to all the other commands of God. It is
an inability of a moral kind, consisting in the entire depravity of
the heart, or its total and invincible opposition to holiness. When
the command comes to sinners, requiring them to love God, or to
believe in Christ, the wickedness of their heart prevents. This
is the only hinderance; but it is an effectual hinderance. And
when the command comes to them, to repent, to turn from sin, or
to make them a new heart, the same cause prevents. Tell me in
what sense unregenerate sinners are unable to love God, or what
hinders them from loving God, and you tell me, in what sense
they are unable “to change their present state for a better one,”
or what it is which hinders such a change. And that depravity
or wickedness of heart, which has prevented and which now pre-
vents them from obeying this and every other divine command, will
certainly, in opposition to reason, conscience and duty, continue to
prevent till the day of salvation ends, unless God is pleased to have
mercy upon them, and give them a new heart and a right Spirit.
I now come to the second difficulty which “Inquirer” presents.
I had said, that “unrenewed men invariably, have wrong affec-
tions and desires, and perfectly holy beings invariably have right
14*
162 REPLY TO IN QUIRER.
affections and desires, in view of moral objects.” This I thought
would accord with the opinion of those who believe the doctrine
of the total depravity of the unrenewed. That doctrine is, that
men, in their natural state, are sinful without any mixture of holi-
ness. And it is only expressing the same thing in another man-
ner, to say, that unrenewed men invariably have wrong affections
and desires in view of moral objects. Does “Inquirer” deny this?
Does he think that unrenewed men have a mixture of right moral
affections; or that perfectly holy beings have a mixture of sinful
affections? I presume not. What then is the difficulty It is
this. Some of the angels, who were once perfectly holy, did not
continue so, but became sinful; and now, in their sinful state,
they have wrong affections and desires. The same as to our first
parents, who fell from a state of holiness, and them had wrong
affections. But are these facts contrary to the position, that per-
jectly holy beings invariably have right affections 3 Do they show
that perfectly holy beings have wrong affections 7 In other words,
do they show that perfectly holy beings are not perfectly holy 7
To predicate right affections of perfectly holy beings is to declare
what belongs to those who are perfectly holy, not what belongs to
those who are sinful. The wrong affections of fallen angels or
fallen men are not the affections of perfectly holy beings, but of
sinful beings. “Inquirer” asks, “whether our first parents, who
were once sinless beings, invariably retained right affections.” I
answer, they retained right affections while they were perfectly
holy. And this is all that my affirmation implies, and it is all
that other similar affirmations imply. If I say, a perfectly right-
eous judge invariably conforms to the principles of justice, I
declare what belongs to such a judge. And my declaration would
be true, although a judge, once righteous, should become unright-
eous, and should then, as unrighteous, violate the principles of
justice. It does not belong to a perfectly righteous judge to
violate the principles of justice. And it does not belong to a
perfectly holy being to hate God. A fallen angel is not a holy
‘being.
“Inquirer” doubts as to the meaning of the phrase — “in view
REPLY TO IN QUIRER. 163
of moral objects.” He says, and says truly, that I have applied
this view of moral objects both to wrong affections and to right
affections. And he adds: “It would seem, then, that the same
objects occasion wrong affections in one class, and right ones in
the other.” I reply; it not only seems so, but it certainly is so.
It is a plain matter of fact, that a view of moral objects excites
affections in us according to our character and state. If we arc
believers, it excites love; if unbelievers, hatred. The followers of
Christ saw and loved both him and his Father. But he said to
unbelievers: “ye have both seen and hated both me and my Fa-
ther.” The same truths are to one class of men a savor of life unto
life; to another class, a savor of death unto death. “Inquirer” is
familiar with this fact. But the expression that “perfectly holy
beings invariably have right affections” seems to him to imply, that
there can be no change from holiness to sin; that he, who is once
perfectly holy, is so forever. But I had no such meaning in my
mind ; and I think the language would naturally convey no such
meaning to the minds of others. “Inquirer’” says: “If in view of
moral objects perfectly holy beings must invariably have right
affections, what possible influence could temptation have over our
progenitors º' But this is not my language. I did not say per-
fectly holy beings must invariably have right affections. This might
look to the future, and might imply that no change could take
place. What I said was, that perfectly holy beings invariably
have right affections; have them as holy beings, and while holy ;
not that all holy beings are immutable.
As to the apostasy of holy beings, a speculative mind may find
difficulties in abundance. What then 7 What if we are unable
to explain metaphysically the well known fact that holy beings
have become sinful? Can “Inquirer’’ explain it 7 Can he
solve all the difficulties respecting the introduction of sin 7 That
we who have never known by experience what it is to change from
holiness to sin, should be unable to understand the exact manner
in which the change occurred, or the process of a holy mind in
becoming sinful, is nothing strange. We have all the knowledge
on the subject which is necessary for practical purposes, though not
164 REPLY TO IN QUIREIR .
all which an unbridled curiosity craves. Let us be content to
know the plain, important, practical truths. First. We may lay
it down as an undisputed truth, that holy beings have apostatized.
Secondly. We may lay it down as an undoubted truth, that the
change from holiness to sin, in those who have apostatized, took
place in such a manner as not to supersede or interrupt their
moral agency. In the act of their apostasy, and after their apos-
tasy, they retained all the powers and faculties of moral agents,
the proper subjects of law. This is plain. Again. Those who
changed from holiness to sin were altogether culpable. The sin-
ful act was theirs. The tempter was indeed culpable for his con-
duct. But the blame-worthiness of their apostatizing or changing
from holiness to sin, was wholly theirs. The design of God and
the ordering of his providence were holy. What he did was per-
fectly right. This is unquestionable. Once more. The fact
that rational and immortal beings, who were made in the image of
God, and who had motives of infinite weight to love and obey
him, and who had experienced the happiness of obedience, be-
came disobedient — this should be a subject of deep sorrow,
lamentation and astonishment. It was a most unreasonable and
inexcusable thing. Did we not know the fact, we should regard
it as next to an impossibility, that beings endued with such facul-
ties and placed in such circumstances should sin against God.
But the dreadful fact has taken place.
I might add to these plain truths, that God, according to his
eternal purpose, will overrule the apostasy of man for the accom-
plishment of the most benevolent and glorious purposes. That
he has done this, and that he will do it in a still higher degree in
future time, is made clear by the teachings of his word and provi-.
dence.
Now I would charge it upon myself to be content with such
plain, undeniable and useful truths; and not to perplex my own
mind, or the minds of others, with any of the difficulties which
a subtle philosophy has thrown around the subject under con-
sideration.
“Inquirer” says, he can make nothing more or less of my affirm-
R. E PLY TO IN Q UIR E R. 165
ations than the simple position: “once a perfectly holy being,
always so; once a sinner, always so.” I have said enough to
show that this was not my meaning. I will add that the last part
of the sentence just quoted, expresses what I apprehend would be
a certain and universal fact, were it not for the interposition of
divine grace in redemption. If the sinner were left entirely un-
der the operation of mere law, the result would be, “once a sinner,
always so.” I doubt not “Inquirer” would fully accede to this.
He next refers to a declaration of mine, that the divine law
“pre-eminently aims to control the affections and desires of the
heart.” He says: “this proposition seems, at first view, to be a
very reasonable one.” And I ask, does it not appear so on a
second view, and a third view 7 Is it not so in reality ? If “In-
quirer” has any doubt, let him examine the law, and see if it does
not relate primarily to the heart, and aim pre-eminently to direct
and regulate its affections. Does not Christ expressly teach that
all the law is comprehended in two precepts” And do not both
these precepts aim directly to control the affections of the heart 2
If “Inquirer’” should undertake to set forth the sum of the divine
law, would he not say at once, that it requires us to love God su-
premely, and to love our neighbor as ourselves 7 And is not this
the same as to say, it aims to control the affections 7 or, the same
as to say, it aims to control us in regard to our affections?
“Inquirer” asks: “In what respects does the law undertake to
control the affections and desires 7” I answer, in all respects.
It asserts its dominion over the whole field of our moral affections
and desires. It reaches them at all times, and in all their exer-
cises. I should be alarmed if any one should attempt to make
the law less extensive than this. And what reasonable man
would wish, in respect to any of his affections, to be exempt from
the authoritative direction of the divine commands? -
“Inquirer” quotes my remark, that “holy and sinful affections
in the Saint and in the sinner, arise spontaneously from the pres-
'ence or contemplation of moral objects.” And is it not so? When
the Saint contemplates the divine law, does he not love the holiness
which it requires 2 Does he not love it instantly, as soon as he
166 REPLY TO IN QUIRER.
looks at it? When he thinks of God, if he is in a right state of
mind, he has no occasion to reason with himself, and by motives
drawn from other sources, to persuade himself to love God. As
soon as he has a just conception of God, he loves him. To a man
of an upright mind, God’s own excellence is the highest motive to
love; and it is motive enough. And under the influence of this
supreme motive, he will love instantly and spontaneously, in pro-
portion as his heart is in a holy frame. Edwards says, that at a
particular period of his life, merely seeing the name of God or
Christ in a book instantly filled his heart with love and joy. This
evinced a purified and spiritual mind.
Why should “Inquirer” demur at the word spontaneous in this
case ? For a man to love an object spontaneously, is to love it of
his own accord, or, as we may say of his own free will, from the
impulse of his own heart, without being urged by any foreign
cause ; it is to love from one’s own disposition, unconstrained by
any influence from without. (See Johnson and Webster on the
word.) It is an obvious truth, that affections which arise spontane-
ously, show the real character of the man. If any one loves you,
not sua sponte, not freely, not from his own heart, but by con-
straint, or under some foreign influence, what value do you set
upon such affection ? I appeal to experience and consciousness.
When divine things, in their moral excellence, are presented to
the view of a holy being, does he wait for some other considera-
tion to come in and help to excite his love 2 Does he go about to
reason himself into the feeling of love? Or does his heart lie
dormant till it is roused to put forth the affection by a command of
the will 7 We shall find, on careful inquiry, that we always judge
favorably of ourselves in proportion as our affections towards
divine objects rise spontaneously and freely in our minds; and
that we cannot but look upon men as sinful in proportion as their
hearts rise spontaneously against God and holiness.
What shall we think of the opinion, not unfrequently advanced
at the present day, that our affections and desires in view of
moral objects are neither good nor bad in themselves, but only in
consequence of our voluntarily cherishing and indulging them 7
REPLY TO INQUIRER. 167
If the affections or feelings which a holy being spontaneously exer-
cises towards moral objects are not right affections, how can he be
praise-worthy for cherishing them 7 And if the spontaneous affec-
tions of the sinner towards moral objects are not in their own
nature wrong, how can he be culpable for cherishing or indulging
them? Can we be culpable for indulging feelings which are in
themselves innocent : If we may have affections in our hearts for
a short time without fault, why not for a longer time : If we may
innocently begin to exercise them, why may we not innocently
continue to exercise them : When a good man cherishes any af.
fections or desires towards moral objects, does he not do it with the
idea that they are right — right in themselves? And when he en-
deavors to suppress or eradicate any affections towards moral ob-
jects, does he not do it from the conviction that they are in their
own nature wrong? It is evident from our Saviour's teaching,
that a man is criminal for having a desire after forbidden objects;
not only for indulging it and complying with its cravings, but for
having it in his heart. And is not every one, who has an awaken-
ed conscience fully persuaded that it is so It seems to me an
exceedingly strange and unfounded opinion, that the divine law
iustifies a man for the first exercise of malice, envy, revenge
or impurity, and condemns him only for continuing the exercise !
Who can suppose such a thing as that the divine law permits a
moral agent, either at the commencement of his being, or after-
wards, to put forth, for a time, such affections and desires towards
moral objects, as his unsanctified heart may prompt, only requir-
ing him not to repeat them? Surely that law which is “perfect,”
and “exceedingly broad,” must bind a man through the whole of
his existence, as an intelligent, moral being, at One time as well as
another. ‘ I am sure that any position contrary to this is false,
and that the arguments urged in its support are Sophistical. It is
indeed true, that an unrenewed man is culpable for gratifying,
and for continuing to evereise the moral affections which he at
first exercises spontaneously. But why is he culpable? Because
they are wrong affections. Were not the affections themselves
contrary to the law of God, how could he be a transgressor for
having them in his heart, or for continuing to have them :
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. I appeal to the devout and watchful Christian, who faithfully
searches his own heart, and strives to be holy. His testimony is
better than speculative arguments. Does not his experience ex
actly correspond with that of the Apostle 7 In direct opposition
to his settled purpose, or the determination of his will, does not
pride or self-esteem, or covetousness, or envy, or ill-will, or im-
pure desire rise in his heart : He needs not to be told that every
such affection is sinful. He knows it to be so. He confesses it,
and prays to be delivered from it, and abhors himself on account
of it ; and from time to time he is more or less successful in sub-
duing it. But before he is aware, and without waiting for the
previous consent of his will, it comes up again. It is what our
Saviour says “proceeds out of the heart.” Thus he finds the
words of the Apostle verified in his own experience. The flesh
lusteth against the spirit, and the Spirit against the flesh ; and
these are contrary the one to the other, 80 that he cannot do the
things that he would. It is a matter of experience, not of ab-
stract reasoning. So it was with Paul. He found a law in his
members, (doubtless meaning his affections,) Warring against the
law of his mind. He tells us, that the good which he would, he
did not, and the evil which he would not, that he did. No won-
der he was distressed with this law in his members, this body of
death, and cried out, “O wretched man that I am I?’ I Say, it
is a matter of experience. And I appeal to the most faithful and
spiritual Christians, whether their exercises do not correspond
with those of the Apostle.
“Inquirer” asks: “To what is the law addressed ?” And he
suggests the difficulties which arise in his mind from supposing
that it is addressed to the understanding, or to conscience, or to
the will, or to the affections and desires. I think, as he does,
that such a supposition involves the subject in difficulties. The
law, strictly and literally speaking, is not addressed to the under-
standing, the conscience, the will, or the affections of man, but
to man himself; not to any faculty or susceptibility of the moral
agent, but to the moral agent himself. What is the language of
the law It speaks to the intelligent personal being, man.
REPLY TO INQUIRER. 169
“Thou shalt love the Lord thy God.” “Thou,” man, “shalt
love thy neighbor as thyself.” “Thou shalt not steal;" and so
of the rest. Where the personal pronoun is not expressed, it is
implied. “Remember the Sabbath day,” i. e., remember thou.
God addresses his law to this whole person, me. He commands me
to love him. He does not command my understanding to love ;
for my understanding is not a person. He does not command my
conscience, or will, or affection to love; for neither of these is a
person. But he commands me to love. His law is addressed to
me as an intelligent, accountable being. A disregard of this
simple and obvious principle originates many needless difficulties.
“Inquirer” refers to my remark, that the will has no direct
power, and frequently no power at all over the affections ; and that
a man cannot, by the power of his will, call forth the affection of
love to God. And does not “Inquirer” know this to be the case ?
Is he not aware that man, while unregenerate, cannot subdue the
enmity of his heart, and, excite holy love in its place, by an act
of his will 7 Does he not recognize it as a solemn truth, confirm-
ed by Scripture and experience, that a carnal mind cannot sanc-
tify its affections by the force of its own unsanctified volitions?
And how is it with the believer ? Can he, at any time, by an
act of his will, banish his corrupt affections, and kindle the flame
of sacred love in his heart? How is it with “Inquirer,” or with
any other intelligent Christian 2 Is this the way in which the
unholy feelings and desires of his heart were first expelled 7 Is
this the way in which his love to God and divine things is now
called forth? Has anything ever occurred in his own experience,
which evinces that he possesses a power to control his own affec-
tions by a volition ? And does an Edwards, or a Paul, or any
one who discerns spiritual things in a spiritual manner, ever en-
tertain the thought, that the want of such a power takes away his
obligation or his accountability as a moral agent 2 I ask not how
the want of such a power can be reconciled with perfect moral
obligation. But I ask whether the enlightened Christian is not
conscious of these two facts; first, that he has no direct power,
and frequently no power at all, to govern his affections by a voli-
WOL. W. 15
170 REPLY TO INQUIRER.
tion ; and secondly, that he is under perfect obligation to love
and obey God, and will be inexcusably guilty if he fails to do this.
If “Inquirer” can explain how these two things may be reconciled, .
and solve all the hard questions which come forth from a specu-
lative mind, then he is the man to undertake the work.
But if it is so that we cannot control our affections by an act
of the will, many will be inclined to ask: What then shall we do?
I am glad to have an opportunity to answer this question. For
I think here is the place where we are specially taught to feel,
and must feel, our entire dependence on the divine Spirit — the
very place where prayer to God is to come in for our relief. We
are urged to prayer by all the principles of our rational nature.
But a just conviction of our sinfulness, our ruin and our helpless-
mess, shut us up to it. It is our only resort. So the Scriptures
represent it. We must have help from God, or perish in our
pollution. Holy affections are the fruits of the Spirit, not the
product of our own will. This view of the subject is, you per-
ceive, directly favorable to devotion. It begets a sense of depend-
ence on the grace of God, and leads to constant prayer. And
whatever a man’s speculative opinions may be, just So Soon as he
looks into his own heart, and forms any just conceptions of his
own depravity, he will be sensible that without the help of divine
grace, he can do nothing; and he will look to God, not to the
power of his own will, for the sanctification of his affections. Why
is it that some ministers of the gospel use language in prayer so
different from what they use in metaphysical discourse 7 — that
while in such discourse they speak much and strongly of the suffi-
cient power or the complete ability of all men to do all that is
required of them in the law and in the gospel, as soon as they
engage in prayer, they acknowledge their weakness, acknowledge
that without Christ they can do nothing, that they are not suffi-
cient of themselves for any duty, and that all their help must
come from God? Why this difference : It may be, because
their language and their thoughts in metaphysical discourse are
not adapted to serious religion and devotion. And if they find
this to be the case, let them remember it. But I apprehend the
REPLY TO IN QUIRER. 171
reason to be more exactly this; that, in prayer, Christians are
likely to think soberly and justly—likely to discern the truth,
and to use the language of truth. And if you would know what
is the language of truth, search the Scripture which is the word
of the God of truth. Keep close to that, and you will not err.
That holy book abounds in such representations as these : — that
sinners are sanctified not of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of
man, but of God; that holy love is shed abroad in the heart by the
IIoly Ghost; and that all right affections and desires are the
fruits of the Spirit. Accordingly, when a Christian prays he
does not say to God: I thank thee that I have full power to do all
my duty without thy assistance; that I am sufficient of myself to
work out my own salvation. His language is: My help cometh
from the Lord. Without thee I can do nothing. Work in me all
the good pleasure of thy goodness. Make my heart pure.
Strengthen me with thy strength in my soul. What Christian does
not pray in this manner” And is not the language which sin-
cere piety prompts us to use in prayer, the language of truth 2
I had advanced the following sentiment: that holy affections
arise spontaneously in the Saint, and unholy affections in the sin-
mer, from the presence or the contemplation of moral objects. “In-
quirer” undertakes to show what consequences would result from
this sentiment. But our first question should be, whether the
sentiment is trite. Neither 'I nor my correspondent can be held
responsible for the consequences which may follow from the truth,
or from the declaration of the truth. Is then my representation
conformed to fact 7 When a holy angel or a holy man turns
his thoughts to God, and contemplates his moral excellence, is he
not at once pleased with it 2 Does he not love it spontaneously,
that is, freely, of his own accord, or from the disposition of his
own heart? Is he not pleased with it as soon as he sees it?
If, when the object is present to his view, he puts forth any other
mental act before he loves, what is that act 7 Is it an act of
reasoning, by which he endeavors to persuade himself to love 7
But what need of reasoning to excite a holy being to love, when
he already sees the loveliness of the object 2 Even if he should
172 REPLY TO IN QUIRER.
attempt by reasoning to excite love, what would he do, but to
urge upon his own mind the Supreme beauty and excellence of
the object before him : Or, is the act which precedes his affec-
tion to God, an act of Self-love & When he beholds the divine
character, does his heart lie still within him, till he has time to
think that loving God will make him happy 2 And is it in re-
ality a regard to his own happiness, which excites his love to
God? Or, is the act which precedes his love an act of his will?
That is, when a holy being has a distinct idea of God in his
mind, is it true that, instead of instantly loving him, and in
order to bring himself to love, he first wills to love 7 And is it
true that his love is excited by such a previous volition ? I am
persuaded that good men will never be led, by their own ex-
perience, to view the subject in this light. That which renders
God worthy of love, and which is the objective ground of love,
is his moral excellence. As soon as holy beings see this they
love. It is their cordial, free, wheonStrained act. And what is
more just and reasonable, than that they should love God be-
cause he is infinitely lovely : The subjective reason is their own
holy disposition. In this view they love God because they have
a holy, spiritual nature, a heart in unison with divine excellence.
And is not the opposite of all this true of the unholy 7 I
ask, then, are not the facts in the case as I have represented
them to be 2 If so, it follows, that the difficulty of which “In-
quirer” speaks, and which we are all apt to feel, arises, not from
any misstatement of mine, but either from the very mature of
the facts, or from something faulty in the state of our minds.
“Inquirer” says, if it be so, as I have represented, “then what
tendency can the divine law have upon the mind of a sinner, ex-
cept to increase his hatred of all that is holy, and thrust him
further and further from Salvation ?” Here let us, for the pres–
ent, pass by the word tendency, which may be somewhat am-
biguous, and inquire what is matter of fact. Take the unre-
newed sinner, whose carnal mind is enmity against God, just as
he is in himself, exclusively of the agency of the Holy Spirit. Is
it not a fact that the law and the gospel, when brought before his
REPLY TO IN QUIRER. 173
W
unsanctified mind, do excite his hatred of all that is good, and
so thrust him further and further from Salvation ? Is not any
result contrary to this owing to the grace of God? If the sin-
ner is left to himself, is not the law, and the gospel too, a savor
of death unto death 7 Has he not such a deceitful, wicked
heart, and does he not so act out his depravity in view of divine
things, that he is continually waxing worse and worse ? And so
far as he is given up to his own alienated heart, without the
grace of the Holy Spirit, is not this the case uniformly and al-
ways” ” We see then what is the invariable fact.
As to “tendency,” I hold that the proper tendency of divine
truth — the tendency which it ought to have upon a rational
being, and which it would have, were it not for the counter-
influence of sin — is to excite holy affection, and lead to holy
conduct. But the sinner has an evil heart of unbelief. He
has an obstinate love of sin, and dislike of holiness. And this
inexcusable wickedness of his heart opposes the proper ten-
dency of the truth, prevents the effect which it should have on
the mind, and turns the law and the gospel into a means of
perdition. Coming in contact with a hard, impenitent heart, it
proves to be a savor of death unto death. But this is no dis-
paragement to divine truth. Its being followed by such an effect
is to be ascribed wholly to the fault of the sinner.
“Inquirer” asks: “What then can the preaching of the law do,
but to aggravate the awful doom of sinners ?” And I put the
question to him: What else can the preaching of the law or the
gospel do, whless the grace of God interpose, and give sinners a
new heart? If they are given over to their own unsubdued
wickedness, as they justly may be, does not “Inquirer” know the
deplorable fact, that whatever may be their outward privileges,
they will be continually treasuring up wrath against the day of
wrath This fact is so deplorable and dreadful, that it caused
the Son of God to weep, and should cause us to weep. The
evil of man’s heart is too obvious to be denied ; and it is too
deep and desperate to be remedied by human power. Can “In-
quirer” think it a mistake of mine to say, that man’s depraved will
15*
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has no power to change his depraved heart?—in other words,
hat he has no power to change his depraved heart by an act of
his depraved will? Would he affirm the contrary 7 Would he
tell sinners, that by an act of their unsanctified will — which is
all the will they have — they can sanctify their own hearts : —
that by an unholy, selfish volition they can produce in themselves
that holiness, which they neither love nor desire 7
The doctrine of man’s depravity is mysterious and astounding.
But all that is mysterious and astounding in the doctrine lies in
its truth. Man is a sinner. He has destroyed himself; and he
is lost. His help is in God, and nowhere else.
“Inquirer’ refers to the following remark of mine: “It is a
common sentiment, that the sinfulness of men is great in proportion
as their passions and desires are awakened suddenly and uncontrol-
lably in view of forbidden objects.” I stated the case in which
revenge, envy, covetousness and pride arise in the mind suddenly
and uncontrollably in view of their appropriate objects. Now I
ask “Inquirer:” Are not revenge, envy, covetousness and pride
sinful? Are they not really sinful in themselves, though not de-
veloped in outward action ? And is not the degree of sinfulness
proportional to the strength and violence of the sinful passions and
desires 7
“Inquirer’” says, he could assent to all this, if I had “con-
joined some limitations or modifications.” But what modifications
are called for ? Would he have me say, that ill-will, revenge,
envy, covetousness and pride are sinful in some circumstances,
but not in others ? Does he wish me to point out the circum-
stances in which a man may have them in his heart for a time,
and yet be guiltless : This I do not feel myself authorized to do;
and I think “Inquirer” would himself start back from such a
modification as this. For if I may have in my heart the feeling
of ill-will, envy and revenge once, without sin; why not twice —
and if for a short time, why not for a longer time 2 If the begin-
ning of these affections is not wrong, why should we regard the
continuance of them as wrong? Is it true that the divine law does
not forbid the eacistence of these affections in our hearts, and that its
REPLY TO IN QUIRE R. 175
only aim is to prevent their continuance? Or, to give the subject
another shape, is it the intention of the law to keep these affections
within certain imits, and to prevent them from going too far, parti-
cularly from coming out in visible action ? Are we to understand
the law as saying: you may have the emotion of enmity against
God or man rise in your heart, and if it is the first emotion of
the kind, and if it rises spontaneously, you are guiltless. But if
you have a second and third emotion, especially if it becomes
strong and violent, than you are culpable. Is this the meaning
of the moral law Ż But suppose the second and third emotion of
enmity against God or man is as spontaneous as the first. Why
should it not be regarded in the same light 7 &
In compliance with the suggestion of “Inquirer,” I am very
ready to give “some modifications,” or rather to explain and
distinguish.
There are then, as I conceive, emotions, affections and desires of
different kinds. Some are in their own nature morally right, i. e.
conformed to the divine law; some are sinful, i.e. contrary to
the law; and some indifferent, i. e. in themselves neither holy nor.
sinful. As to those of the first kind — the law requires and
approves them. As to those of the second kind — the law for-
bids and condemns them. As to those which are indifferent — such
as the natural appetite for food, the desire of property and of
, knowledge, the love of life, the love of offspring, and the affection
existing between the sexes; — what the law does in regard to these
is to regulate them, to guard them against excess and perversion,
and direct them to their proper end. God not only permits us
to have these affections and desires, but, in the proper way, to
indulge them, and act under their influence. We are as much
justified in repeating as in beginning the exercise of them; in
acting them out in our life, as in having them in our heart. We
are only required to indulge and gratify them in proper ways and
proper degrees, and for a proper end, i. e. that the glory of God
and the welfare of ourselves and others may be promoted. See
now how plain and obvious is the difference between these emotions
and desires, and those which are in themselves sinful; and how
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differently they are treated in the Scriptures. Does the word
of God require that we should take care to regulate our ill-will
towards our fellow-men, and our enmity against our Maker?—
that we should keep them within proper bounds, and direct them
to a proper end ? Why, they have no proper bounds. There is
no proper end at which we can aim in their exercise. In their
own nature they are contrary to the divine law. They are disobe-
dience. And where does the law undertake to regulate disobedi.
ence, and keep it within proper bounds? Instead of this, it forbids
it wholly. It forbids us to have the commencement of it in our
hearts. It condemns us for the first and feeblest emotion which is
contrary to holiness, though never developed in action, and even
though conscience should not at the time be so wakeful as to
notice its turpitude. .
“Inquirer” refers to a child who has inherited from his parents
a strong appetite for intoxicating drinks, but has checked and
refused to indulge it; and he asks, whether that child is guilty of
intemperance. I answer, No. The mere bodily appetite is not
intemperance. In itself it has nothing of a moral nature, any
more than the extreme thirst of a man for water. We are sure
of this from our own consciousness. All that the law requires of
him who inherits such an appetite is, that he should refuse to grat-
ify it, and in every proper way strive to subdue it. If he loves
God he will readily do this. And if he does this, we give him
special credit for his tempérance. We honor him more than if he
had never been subject to such an appetite, and had never prac-
tised self-denial in refraining from indulging it. This is plain;
and what “Inquirer” says respecting it is obviously just.
But there is an essential difference between such a bodily ap-
petite and those dispositions and affections of the soul, which are in
their own mature morally. Wrong, and which cannot for a moment
exist without sin. To have a malevolent, envious, or revengeful
feeling in the heart, is to be a transgressor. Merely having the
emotion shows a man to be depraved. Jesus never had such an
emotion. He never had the least degree, not even the beginning
of the feeling of ill-will, pride or envy. In his pure heart no
REPLY TO INQUIRE R. 177
emotion or desire contrary to holiness was ever found, no, not for
a moment. -
We come now to the case of a reformed debauchee. The Sup-
position of “Inquirer” is, that although the reformed man is now
a true Christian, he is “often and violently assailed with desires
and passions like those of former days,” i. e. impure desires; but
that he steadily opposes them. The question is, how are we to
regard such a man in his present state. The man himself will
answer this. He regards the impure passions and desires referred
to, as the sin that dwelleth in him. He confesses them to God
and mourns over them. He says within himself; how bad must
the tree be which bears such fruit ! How evil the heart from
which proceed such vile and hateful passions and desires In
short, does he not really look upon himself as the subject of an
inward defilement, a spiritual evil, in proportion to the frequency
and violence with which he is assaulted by the passions and desires
of his former wicked life 2 And when he resists them, does he not
do it with the full conviction that they are morally wrong, and
wholly without excuse in the sight of God 7 But if, through the
strength of religious principle, and the help of divine grace, he
overcomes and eradicates these evil passions and desires, we re-
gard it as a great and virtuous achievement, and we honor him
for resisting and subduing, not what is innocent, but what is sinful.
The principle which I have endeavored to support, is evidently
true in regard to holy affections and desires. Love to God and
desire for his glory show the heart to be sanctified in proportion
as they arise spontaneously and fervently in view of the object.
When our moral state is right, nothing is necessary to excite love
to God but the sight of his character. As soon as we see what
he is, we love him. The affection is awakened immediately when
the object is presented before the mind, whether it is presented
in consequence of a previous act of the will or not. So it was
with Jesus. No reasoning, no persuasion, no antecedent act of
his will was necessary to elicit his love. As soon as he thought of
his Father, he loved him, and desired his glory. The affection was
always joined with the thought. If it is not so with us, if, when
178 R E PLY TO IN QUIRER.
we turn our thoughts to God, our hearts slumber, or if earthly
affections lodge within us, and if we find voluntary exertion and
labor necessary to dislodge those earthly affections, and to prepare
ourselves to love God, it is a certain proof that the law of sin is
still warring against the law of holiness, and that the work of
Sanctification is very incomplete.
Some writers, who admit that an act of the will has no direct
control over the affections, still hold that, as it is by an act of the
will that we bring before our minds those objects which excite the
affections, it is this previous voluntary act which gives the charac-
ter of morality to the affections. The reason why they hold this
opinion is, that they have already adopted the principle, that vol-
untary acts, and those only, are morally good or evil. In my
view, this principle, as at present understood, overlooks truths of
essential importance. But I shall not enter on the consideration
of the subject here, except in the way of appeal to plain common
Se]].Sé. &
According to the opinion above stated, if by an act of our will
we put ourselves in a situation where divine and spiritual objects
will be presented before us, and if we do it for the purpose of
awakening pious affections in our minds, those affections, when
thus awakened, are holy and praise-worthy; and are so, because
we voluntarily put ourselves in such a situation. And if, by an
act of the will, we knowingly put ourselves in a situation, where
objects will come before us which will excite wrong affections, we
are then blame-worthy for those affections; and we are so, merely
because we voluntarily came into such a situation.
Now I acknowledge that the previous act of the will above
gmentioned, and the affections which followed, are, in the first case,
good and praise-worthy, and in the second case, blame-worthy.
But that the affections are right or wrong, and that we are worthy
of praise or blame on account of them merely because we volum-
tarily placed ourselves in such a situation,-this I do not admit.
For suppose that, without any previous arrangement or choice of
mine, a good man comes and presents before me some striking
view of the glorious character of God, which instantly excites rev-
REPLY TO INQUIRER. - 170
erence and love in my heart. Or suppose such a view of God is
unexpectedly suggested to my mind by some event of divine prov-
idence, over which I have no control; and in consequence of
it, I have at once the affection of reverence and love. Must I
regard this affection as destitute of piety and goodness, because
T exercise it in such circumstances 7 Do these circumstances
deprive me of moral agency Or suppose, without any intention
of mine, I am brought into a situation where objects are presented
before me, which suddenly excite the feeling of ill-will, envy, or
revenge. Is such a feeling innocent, and am I blameless for ex-
ercising it because I exercise it in such a way ? Do I cease to
be a moral agent 7 Is it not evident that the affection is of the
same nature, and that it indicates the same character of mind,
whether it is exercised in consequence of a previous act of the
will, or otherwise ? What difference can it make in the judgment
we pass upon benevolence or ill-will, love or enmity, whether
the object which elicits it comes before the mind in one way or
another ? Is not the object the same 7 Is not the affection the
same 7 And are not we the same moral, accountable beings 7
Take another case. An irreligious, wicked man knows by ex-
perience, that the truths of the gospel stir up within him strong
dislike and opposition of heart. He therefore wishes to avoid
every person and every situation that will be likely to bring these
disagreeable truths before him. But unexpectedly and contrary
to his will, a Christian goes to him, and in the kindest manner
presents some precious gospel truths before him, in view of which
his heart at once kindles into hatred and wrath. Do you think
his feelings cease to be sinful, because the object exciting them
was brought before his mind without his intention, and contrary to
his choice 7
See what a fearful influence the theory I am opposing would
have upon the divine law. Doubtless the moral law primarily and
essentially requires that, and that only, which is of a moral nature.
Now, according to the theory under review, the first and great
command, instead of requiring love itself, requires that previous
act of the will, by which we put ourselves in a situation where
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the object of love shall be presented before us. And our putting
forth this previous act would constitute obedience, whether the
affection followed or not. On the other hand, if we should really
love God when his character is brought to our view unexpectedly
and without our previous design, the affection, not resulting from
a previous act of the will, would lose its moral nature, and would
not be obedience to the first and great command; although it is
the very thing which the law requires. The same as to the
command, “Thou shalt not covet.” If we really covet our
neighbor’s house or wife, we are not transgressors, unless we had
a previous voluntary agency in bringing the object before us.
How often soever and how strongly soever we may covet, we are
not blame-worthy, if the exciting object is presented to our view
without our choice. Now who of us has any right to take such
liberty as this with the law of God, and to say, that it is not
obeyed by that very affection which it requires, and is not diso-
beyed by that very affection which it forbids?
As I understand the subject, if a man spontaneously puts forth
either good or bad affections in view of objects brought before him
without his previous design, this very circumstance does, in some
respects, exhibit the goodness or badness of his character with
peculiar clearness. . If a man’s heart is such that, whenever moral
objects are brought before him, whether by his own voluntary act
or not, he is at once filled with right affections and desires, we
attribute to him the character of singular excellence. And if,
whenever moral objects are brought before another man, even
against his intention, his heart instantly kindles into bad emotions
and desires, we say, his character is stamped with uncommon
depravity. In such cases there is no restraint. The heart acts
itself out with freedom. “A good man, out of the good treasure
of the heart, bringeth forth good things; and an evil man, out
of the evil treasure, bringeth forth evil things.”
I have one thing more to say. We are, without doubt,
under perfect obligation to obey the first and great command,
and the second, which is like unto it. Now if we love God
with all the heart and Soul and mind and strength, and our
R. EPL Y TO IN QUIR. E. R. - 18]
neighbor as ourselves, wrong affections will be excluded. There
will be no place for them. In the pure and holy mind of Jesus
no sinful emotions were ever found. Now it is clear, that we
must be blame-worthy and inexcusable for those wrong mental acts
which take place in consequence of our neglecting a great amd
obvious duty. If our loving God and man as we ought would
keep all right in the movements of our hearts, and would effectu-
ally exclude all improper feelings; we are most certainly answer-
able for neglecting that primary duty, and for all those improper
feelings which rush into the mind in consequence of our neglect.
“Inquirer’ signifies that desires after forbidden objects, burning
unawares in the minds of men, may be evidences of their “having
been very wicked, or their having inherited a constitution greatly
vitiated.” But he sees not “how they can be proof of present
wickedness, provided they are immediately resisted, and never
fostered or indulged.” Here it is important to keep in mind what
was before said, that there are two classes of desires; — those
which are of an inferior kind, belonging particularly to our animal
nature, and those which are of a moral or spiritual nature.
Take as an instance of the first kind, a desire for strong drink.
If a man, with the requisite information as to consequences, does
anything to form the appetite, or to indulge and continue it, he
becomes culpable ; — culpable for doing that which he knows to
be hurtful to the body and the soul. The guilt does not lie in the
bodily appetite itself, or the bodily act of indulging it, but in the
inclination and choice of the mind to indulge it when the conse-
quence is known.
The other class of affections and desires are, in their own nature,
moral or spiritual. They have a direct relation to moral law, and
cannot exist without being praise-worthy or blame-worthy. Such
is love to God, and enmity against him. If such an object as
God is plesented before the mind of a rational being, loving will
be a holy and praise-worthy act, and hating will be sinful. As
soon as the object is before his mind, and he discerns it, he has
sufficient knowledge to render him accountable for the acts he
puts forth towards it. Is it said, he cannot be accountable for the
WOL. V. 16 .
182 - REPLY TO IN QUIRER.
*
first act of love or hatred, but only for continuing it, and for fos-
tering and indulgingit 7 I reply ; if the goodness or badmess of the
affection or mental act lies in its nature, it must belong to the first
act as well as to the second. If the first act of love to God is not
in itself right, how can the second be 7 And if the first act of
enmity is not in itself wrong, how can the second be The moral
law requires love and forbids enmity. And when we put forth
the first act of love, do we not as really obey the law, as when we
repeat the act 2 If obedience does not begin with the first act
of love ; it must be because love is not morally good in its own
nature, but only on account of the circumstance of its being
repeated. But I ask again, how can it be praise-worthy to repeat
an act, unless the act is right : So on the other hand, when we
put forth the first act of enmity, do we not disobey the law as
really as when we put forth the second act? If not, it must be
because the law does not forbid the first act of enmity, but only
the repetition of it. And then the question comes up, why the
law forbids the repetition of an act, while it allows the act in the
first instance.
As the result of our inquiries, do we not find, that one class of
affections and desires are, in themselves, of a moral nature, and
that he who exercises them is always praise-worthy or blame-
worthy Ž If a mán loves God and man, whether it is the first act
of love or the second, and whatever the circumstances, he has
holiness. But in regard to the other class of affections above
mentioned, it is evident, that they are not of a moral nature in
themselves, and that it is merely the consideration of consequences,
which gives them a moral aspect 7
“Inquirer” refers to the case of our Saviour's temptations, and
says: “If he had no desires or emotions like our own on such
occasions,” (i. e. when he was tempted,) “then how was he
tempted in all points, as we are 7 If he had such emotions, and
these emotions are, as Dr. Woods says, sins of the deepest die,
then how was he tempted, and yet remained without sin 7 °
It is very difficult for me to reply as I should wish, to such a
statement as this, because it is difficult to speak of the feelings
REPLY TO INQUIR ER. 183
and character of Christ with becoming reverence. I will, how-
ever, offer a few suggestions.
The Scripture does indeed say, that Jesus was in all points
tempted as we are. But where does it say, that he had the same
emotions and desires with ws & Saying this, would be utterly
incompatible with the spotless purity and holiness of Christ.
The word temptation is sometimes used to denote that irregular
desire of the depraved heart, which leads to actual transgression;
as in James 1: 14; “Every man is tempted, when he is drawn
away of his own lust, and enticed.” Jesus was never tempted in
this way. This is not the kind of temptation to which he was
subjected. All other men are by nature sinners; born in such a
state, that they must be born again to prepare them for the king-
dom of heaven. From the first, their moral affections are cor-
rupt ; their moral nature is depraved. The actings of their
minds, so far as they are of a moral nature, are all sinful. And
even as to those emotions and desires which do not directly relate to
moral objects, and which are not, in themselves, either morally
good or evil, I cannot but think they are all tainted by the moral
disorder of the heart. Even the natural affections, the corporeal and
social emotions, desires and instincts, which are faultless and pure
when the heart is pure, even these become irregular and faulty, by
dwelling in a depraved heart. The evil pervades the whole man.
There is no soundness in him. “To them that are defiled,
nothing is pure.” How can anything in a heart that is “desper-
ately wicked,” be what it would be in a heart perfectly undefiled 7
In this respect, Jesus was totally unlike all other men. He had
human nature; but his human nature was incorrupt. From the
first he was holy, harmless, undefiled. He never needed to be
born again. And he never had a single thought, emotion or
desire, which varied, in the least, from the rule of righteousness.
He was indeed tempted. But how 7 Not by any irregular incli-
nation, any lust, any solicitation to sin within his own mind. He
said to his disciples: “Ye are they that have followed me in my
temptations.” What were his temptations? Let the story of his
life answer. “He suffered, being tempted.” All his sufferings
184 REPLY TO IN QUIRER.
were temptations, or trials. The original word, rendered tempt,
signifies to try, to put to the proof, in order to ascertain the disposi-
tion or character of any one. The sufferings of Christ tried him,
as the furnace tries the gold. They showed what he was. The
opposition and enmity of the Jews, the ingratitude and obduracy
of those for whose benefit he came into the world, and all the
evils he endured from time to time, especially in the closing scene
of his life, were temptations or trials, and made it manifest that he
was without sin. If men are corrupt, trials will be likely to show
it. If they are holy, trials will make that manifest. Any one
who carefully attends to the word of God, will be satisfied, that
the temptations spoken of, generally refer to the afflictions or
sufferings of life. In this sense Christ was tempted or tried as we
are. He endured all that variety of sufferings which his people
endure, so that, by his own experience, he learned how to sympa-
thize with them. And he passed through all these trials without
sin.
He was also subjected to temptation in another way. The devil
tempted him, that is, Solicited him to commit sin. But he found
“nothing in him.” He found no sinful propensity, no depraved
disposition, no bias to evil, which could give effect to temptation.
The Solicitation to sin was from without, not from within — from
the wicked one, not from the heart of Jesus.
Thus it appears, that Jesus experienced temptations of two
kinds; first, in the way of solicitation to sin, presented before his
mind from without, and secondly, temptation in the way of suffer-
ing. But neither the one nor the other had any effect, except to
exercise his virtue, to show that he had no sin, to manifest his
unbending rectitude and perfect purity. We see them, that his
being tempted as we are, did not by any means imply, that he was
like us in moral feeling, or that temptation had the same effect upon
him as it has upon us, or that he had “rising desires or emotions
like our own on such occasions,” as “Inquirer” speaks. His
temptations prove the contrary. They proved that, by his perfect
holiness, he was effectually shielded against those “desires and
emotions” which temptations are apt to excite in our corrupt
REPLY TO IN QUIRER. - 1JJ
hearts. For us, the only way of safety is to flee from temptations.
But Jesus had no occasion to flee. He was perfectly safe in the
midst of temptations. He was like pure gold, gold unmixed with
any alloy, upon which the furnace has no effect, but to make its
purity manifest. - -
Such is my impression as to the character of Christ, his spotless
purity, and the strength of holy principle in his heart. Will
“Inquirer” say that this impression is incorrect, and that I think
more highly of the character of Jesus than the Apostle did, when
he declared him to be “holy, harmless, undefiled, separate from
sinners?” How was Jesus separate from sinners, except in what
constitutes moral character, that is, in the affections of his heart,
and in his outward actions : Until I am otherwise informed, I
must consider it altogether unjust and dishonorable to the blessed
Saviour, to infer from the fact that he was tempted as we are, that
temptation excited in him any “emotions and desires,” like those
which it generally excites in depraved minds. At one time the
tempter endeavored to excite pride or ambition in his heart, and
thus to draw him into sin. But no pride or ambition was found
, there. At another time, the tempter addressed his motive to the
appetite of hunger. But Jesus was governed by a higher prin-
ciple. The desire of food, however strong, had no influence upon
him in opposition to duty. His natural appetites were entirely
subject to the will of God. His mind and heart were filled with
spiritual thoughts and spiritual affections and joys; and he had not
a single rebellious desire or feeling—he had not a single move-
ment within him, which his conscience or his God would disap-
prove, or which he could ever wish to have been otherwise. He
had no inclination or tendency to comply with temptation. He
had no selfish disposition, no depravity of heart for temptation to
work upon. As to ourselves, in our fallen state, we have to resist
not. Only Solicitations to sin from without, but Solicitations from
within, that is, sinful inclinations. And we know too well, that it
is these sinful inclimations, these corrupt desires of our hearts, that
give force to outward temptation. Our warfare is within. And
if we obtain a conquest, it is chiefly the conquest of indwelling sin.
16*
186 R. EPL Y TO IN QUIRER.
But Jesus had no indwelling sin to conquer, no unholy desire to
resist, no wickedness of heart to subdue. So unlike was he to
us in regard to the state of his mind, and everything which con-
stitutes character; though he was like us in regard to what are
more properly called temptations. º
I had said, that our affections and desires are really our actions,
(i.e. our mental actions,) and that our mind is as much the produ-
cing cause of them, as of our volitions. This “Inquirer” thinks
inconsistent with the position which I maintain, namely, that the
presence of appropriate objects spontaneously awakens these
desires. But how is it inconsistent 7 To say, that the presence
of appropriate objects spontaneously awakens our affections and
desires, is the same as to say, that we ourselves, as intelligent,
moral agents, spontaneously put forth affections and desires in view
of those objects; or, that we spontaneously act in the way of
loving and desiring, or the contrary, when the objects are before
us. Now why should it be supposed, that our mind, in any such
case, is less active because it acts spontaneously? or, that our
loving and desiring are not our own actions, because we love and
desire promptly, as soon as the object comes before us? Who can
suppose that the act of loving God in the spirits of just men made
perfect, is any the less their act, or any the less excellent and
praise-worthy, because they love readily and spontaneously; or
that hating God, in the minds of wicked beings, is any the less
their own act, or any the less vile and blame-worthy, because they
hate God at once, whenever they think of him 7 Must something
come between the sight of the object and our loving it, to make
our loving it our own responsible act? What a strange imagina-
tion . If a man loves God and delights in him with all his heart,
as soon as he thinks of him, he does nothing morally good | Why?
Because he loves spontaneously, freely, from the impulse of his
own mind! If his love did not arise so soon; if his heart was a
little reluctant and slow to move, and waited to have its love
excited by something besides the sight of the divine excellence —
by some effort of reasoning or some urgency of will, it would
deserve the name of holiness, but not as it is And if a man is
REPLY TO IN QUIRER. 187
displeased with God, and his heart rises in enmity against him, as
Soon as the thought of his character comes to his mind, it is not
sin! And why? Because the displeasure or hatred rises in his
mind spontaneously — because he hates God at once, as soon as
he thinks of him.
I suppose this opinion is adopted to support a favorite meta-
physical theory—the theory, that nothing is of a moral nature
unless it follows an act of the will. This theory is true in regard
to external bodily actions. For these we are not responsible,
unless they are voluntary, that is, unless they take place in obe-
dience to an act of the will. The actions, in themselves, are
neither morally good nor evil. The same is true in regard to
many acts of the mind. In themselves they are not of a moral
nature; and we regard them as right or wrong, only as they are
directed to a gopd or bad end.
You ask, how we can determine what acts of the mind are in
themselves morally good or evil. I answer, we can do this,
first, by the help of conscience. As to one class of mental ex-
ercises, a feeling of approbation or disapprobation accompanies
them, or is consequent upon them. This is an ultimate fact,
arising from the law of our nature. The same law of our nature
leads us to look upon another class of mental actions as, in them-
selves, neither right nor wrong, and to look upon ourselves as
neither praise-worthy nor blame-worthy for them, except with a
view to the motives by which we are influenced.
Secondly. We can distinguish those acts of the mind which
are in themselves of a moral nature from those which are not, by
the moral law. That which the law requires, and as the law
requires it, is right. The contrary is wrong. Now the law re-
quires the affection of love, and love implies that we have com-
placency in the divine character, that we delight ourselves in the
Lord. Without cordial complacency in God, we cannot rightly
seek his glory, nor rightly determine to serve him, nor rightly
choose him as our God and portion. And as the law requires
love to God, we know that love, in all its forms and exercises, is
morally right. Here conscience and the divine law perfectly
188 REPLY TO IN QUIRER.
agree. The awakened sinner, both from his conscience and from
the requirement of the moral law, knows that the enmity of his
heart against God, which no act of his will can remove, is, in
itself, exceedingly sinful. And when, through the renewing of
the Holy Spirit, he begins to feel complacency in the character
and government of God, he knows that complacency to be right.
But neither the divine law nor conscience has anything to do
with the inquiry, whether either the good or the bad affection is
exercised in consequence of a previous volition. We look di-
rectly at the affection itself, whether love or hatred, and we see
it to be right or wrong. And I cannot but regard it as a mis-
take, to turn off our attention from the mature of the mental state
or mental exercise, called love, or enmity, and instead of judging
of it by the plain rule of conscience and the divine law, to make
another rule, and judge of it by the circumstance of its following
an act of the will. *
I have thus far used the word volition, or act of the will, to
denote that imperative or executive act of the mind, which di-
rects something to be done, or leads to the doing of it.
But there is another sense, which is found more or less in
common and in philosophical discourse, and which is favored by
some passages of Scripture, and by the usage of the older class
of writers. According to this usage, the will stands for the whole
Amoral faculty, or the moral mature of man. All the affections
and dispositions belong to the will. Love and hatred, desire and
aversion, and all the feelings of the heart, are considered as
properties and acts of the will. So Edwards generally uses the
word, though not always.
Now it is clear, that using the word will in this extensive sense
occasions a great difference in the mode of speaking and reason-
ing on the subject. And unless we are specially attentive to
the meaning which different writers attach to the word, we shall
be involved in confusion, and shall be unable to do justice either
to them, or to the subject they treat. If the word will is taken
in this large sense, then indeed nothing is of a moral nature but
volitions, or acts of the will. To be pleased and to be dis-
REPLY TO IN QUIRER. 189
pleased, to love and to hate, to desire and to feel aversion, are
all acts or states of the will. So are all the emotions, all the
feelings of the heart, especially those relating to moral objects. –
If now you think proper to give the word this broad significa-
tion, and will take care uniformly to adhere to it, I will not
complain, but will endeavor, as far as I can, to fall into your
track, and to understand words and phrases as you do. And
this may perhaps prevent some difficulties. For now you can
say, we are responsible for our affections and desires, because
they are voluntary, not consequences of volition, but themselves
volitions, or acts of the will, and controlled by the will only as
the will puts them forth. We could not however go far in this
way, without finding it necessary to distinguish among these
various acts of the will, and to arrange them under different
classes, making some generic or immanent volitions, such as the
habitual affections or dispositions of the heart; and others spe-
cific, emanent, or imperative, such as the determinations or de-
cisions of the mind as to particular things to be done. These
last are the manifestation of the former in specific actions. So
be it. The name we give to a thing does not alter its nature.
Whether we call love to God voluntary or involuntary, an affec-
tion or volition, it is really the same thing. Calling it voluntary
does not make it holy, and calling it involuntary would not take
away its holiness. Whatever epithet we apply to it, it is the
sum of obedience to the moral law.
I will only request you to fix the meaning of the word voluntary,
and to adhere to it uniformly. You must use the word to de-
nate either that which is itself an act of the will, or that which
follows an act of the will. Take one or the other of these senses,
but not both. -
I shall only add, that if you assert that all virtue and vice
lie in the acts of the will, and if by the acts of the will you mean
its imperative or executive acts, you then make virtue and vice
to lie in that which really has no moral nature, except in a sec-
ondary or relative sense, i. e. as derived from the inward disposi-
tion or motive. But if when you assert that all virtue and vice,
I90 REPLY TO INQUIRER.
lie in the acts of the will, you mean to include in the acts of the
will all the affections, dispositions, desires and emotions, as well
as the volitions; it is clear that using the word in such a large
sense, a sense which includes things so widely different in their
nature, must be unfavorable to clearness in treatises on the phi-
losophy of the mind.
“Inquirer” presses the question: “What is free agency?”
In reply, I would describe free agency, not as a work of imagi-
nation, but as a reality, a thing which truly exists among men.
I take it to be a point in which we are all agreed, that man is
a free moral agent. Thus far controversy is excluded. And
if we would know exactly what moral agency is, and how it
operates, we must look upon the moral agent, man, and see what
he does, and how he does it. Take any man as an example. Take
Paul and begin with his unconverted state. What did he do?
Why, he acquired learning; he observed the ceremonial law;
and he persecuted the followers of Christ; and he did all this
under the influence of a deceitful heart, and a misguided con-
science. In all this, he was a free, moral agent; free, because
he followed his own inclination and choice, and was not influenced
by physical force. He was free from whatever would prevent
him from choosing and acting according to his own inclinations.
And Paul was a moral agent, because he exercised affections and
performed actions which had a moral nature, and related to a
moral law. Such was Paul before his conversion, and, as to
moral agency, at his conversion, and after his conversion.
And as it was with Paul, so it is with every man, whether good
or bad. Acting just as he does, he is free. He has no want of any
power or faculty which is required in moral agency; he has no
principle operating in himself, and is exposed to no foreign force,
which hinders his moral agency. There is, then, no need of con-
jecture, or abstract reasoning, or hard and perplexed thinking on
this subject. We are free, moral agents at any rate. This is
settled. # -
Do you bring up the question, whether we are under a necessity
of choosing as we do 2 My answer is, that we are under no ne-
H.EPLY TO IN QUIRER. 191
cessity, except that which makes us rational, free, accountable
beings. We are under this necessity; and we can never get
away from it. It holds us fast; and will do so forever. We
have no power to divest ourselves of our rationality, our freedom
and accountability, how much soever we may desire it. The ne-
cessity which holds us to this, is perfect and uncontrollable. It is
the unchangeable purpose of our almighty Creator and Preserver,
that we shall forever be free, moral, accountable beings. Many
things are submitted to our choice. But this is not. We can
no more cease to be moral agents, than we can cease to exist.
And every law or principle of action, which essentially belongs to
us as moral agents, is also unalterable. It is a law of our being,
that, in all our volitions and choices, we shall be influenced by
motives, that is, by our inward affections and desires, and our
views of outward objects; and who can prevent the operation of
this law 7 And who would wish to prevent the operation of a
law, which makes us rational beings?
In the discussion of this subject, my aim is to make the whole
question respecting the powers or capabilities of a moral agent, a
question of facts. In this way my own doubts and difficulties
have been relieved; for I too, as well as “Inquirer,” have had
speculative difficulties in abundance on this subject. And I have
thought, that the mode of investigation which has afforded relief
to my own mind may do something towards relieving the minds
of others. With this view I make the proposal to any who wish
to examine the controverted questions respecting the powers of
man, that, instead of pushing the abstract inquiry, what it is pos-
sible for man to do, or what he has power or ability to do, we should
endeavor, first of all, to determine what are the facts in the case,
—the facts made known by past and present experience. In
what manner and under what influence does man as an intelligent,
moral being, act 7 Do not inquire first how he can act, but how
he does act 7 From what influence, and under what conditions
does he put forth his volitions? Is he influenced in his choices by
his predominant dispositions, affections and desires? Does even
conscience govern him, except as the inclinations or desires of the
192 REPLY TO IN QUIRER.
heart give force to its dictates? The same as to every other case,
Whenever the question as to power or ability comes up, put it
thus: has man a power which has ever accomplished the thing
supposed; a power which has availed, or which ever will avail?
Take the question respecting the power of the unrenewed to re-
pent and believe without the regenerating influence of the Spirit.
We inquire, whether any sinner has actually repented and believ-
ed, without that influence. Whatever motives may have acted
upon him, and whatever efforts he may have made in his natural
state, has he ever done this? And has he power, in himself,
which will prove to be sufficient in future time, so that he will, in
any instance, actually obey the gospel, without special divine
influence? If now it is an obvious fact, that no sinner ever did,
or ever will truly repent, without the renewing of the Holy Spirit,
do we not find here what may be called a principle or law of our
moral nature in our fallen state? For what is a law in this sense,
but the invariable manner in which events take place, or in which
effects are produced ? º
“Inquirer” refers again to the fact which I had stated, “that
good beings invariably have good affections in view of moral ob-
jects, and wicked beings invariably have wrong affections; ” and
he asks: “Does it then actually belong to the nature of free
agency in a state of probation, to produce invariably one and only
one set of emotions? Is there any example of such a uniformity
in heaven or earth º' - -
My position is, that a being entirely good, invariably has right
feelings, and a bad being invariably has wrong feelings, in view
of moral objects. This, as I have said, does not imply that a
good being may not become bad, nor that a bad being may not
become good. But when a good being has become bad, the posi-
tion that a good being uniformly has right feelings, does not apply
to him; for he is not now a good being, though he was so once.
And when a bad being has become good, the position that a bad
being uniformly has wrong feelings, does not apply to him; as he
is not now a bad being.
But I have nowhere said, that a moral agent has “uniformly
REPLY TO INQUIRE R. 193
and invariably, one and only one set of emotions.” I maintain
that we have many sets of emotions, both holy and unholy.
“Inquirer’ presses the question whether there is, in heaven
or earth, any example of the uniformity or invariableness of moral
affections, which I have spoken of, in those who are on probation.
Undoubtedly there is. The holy angels were once in a state of
probation; and during that probation, their affections were invari-
ably right. This is an example in heaven. Jesus, as a man, was
in a state of trial while on earth; and his affections were uniform-
ly right. This is an example on earth of the most exalted kind.
And all who die impenitent, are examples of the opposite char
acter. Their moral affections are evil, only evil, and that con-
tinually.
“Inquirer” thinks, that I make “man a simple passive recipient
in his affections and emotions.” If passive is used to denote what
is not active, it is far from expressing my opinion. I maintain
that the mind acts as really and powerfully, in loving and hating
and desiring, as in willing or choosing. Wax is a passive recipient
of the impression made upon it. In receiving the impression, as
we speak, it has no activity. But it is not so with the mind. It
is indeed the subject of an influence from without ; but it is an
intelligent, active subject. It is not properly a recipient of its
affections, but an agent in them.
I had said, “volition depends as much on motives, as the
passions and feelings on their appropriate exciting objects.” “In-
quirer” asks, whether it depends “on motives drawn from things
ab extra only 7” I answer, by no means. It depends chiefly
and ultimately on inward motives. “Inquirer” then says what
deserves special notice: “Suppose that the soul from its own
nature, state or condition wills or chooses this or that ; is this to
be put on par with desires necessarily and involuntarily excited
in us by objects without the soul?” Let it be remembered, that
the language in the closing part of the above quoted sentence, is
not my language, and the thing implied in it is not according to
my apprehension. But that which “Inquirer” suggests in the
first part of the sentence, is, in my view, an important truth;
WOL. W. 17
194 R E PLY TO IN QUIRER.
namely, that the Soul wills or chooses from its own nature, State
or condition ; in other words, that volitions or choices result from
the nature, state, or condition of the soul. In this I agree with
“Inquirer.” Whatever may be the motives presented from with-
out, it is a well-known fact, that a man’s inward disposition, or the
state of his mind determines his choices, and his voluntary actions.
And is not this equally true of the affections and desires? Do
not the unholy affections of an unregenerate man proceed from
the state of his heart : If he had a sanctified heart, would not
his affections be holy % When Paul was renewed, did not the
character of his soul give character to his emotions 7 Now if the
fact that “the mind wills and chooses from its own nature, state
or condition,” makes our choices free, and makes us justly ac-
countable for them; why does not the same fact concerning the
affections and desires make them free, and make us justly account-
able for them 7. That the affections do come from the state of
the heart is clear. Christ declares that “from within, out of the
heart, proceed evil thoughts, covetousness, lasciviousness, an evil
éye and pride,” as well as “adulteries, murders, thefts and blas-
phemies.” The former are emotions, affections and desires, as
evidently as the last are voluntary actions. And they all proceed
alike from the heart in its depraved state. “Inquirer” holds
this, so far as relates to volitions. But the affections and desires
he regards as necessary, and on this account he thinks we are not
accountable for them. And yet there is no more necessity
in respect to the affections, than in respect to the volitions. For
as “Inquirer” suggests, “the soul wills and chooses from its own
nature, state or condition.” And this is what I maintain in re-
gard to the affections. They proceed out of the heart. And it
is this circumstance which seems to lead “Inquirer” and many
others, to think that they are not morally good or evil. The emo-
tions and desires arise in the mind, they say, by necessity—which
precludes freedom. But our volitions and choices take place by
the same necessity; they proceed “from the nature, state and
condition of the soul.” So “Inquirer” thinks. How then, I ask,
can we be accountable for them 7 And if not accountable either
REPLY TO IN QUIRER. 195
for Our volitions, or our affections, how can we be accountable for
anything 7
“Inquirer” says: “If God has made free agents, has he not
given them the power of choice, after all the motives which the
mature of the case admits, are placed before them 7” Certainly
he has given such a power; and we exercise it every day. But
in what way ? Let “Inquirer” tell how he exercises this power
of choice. In all his more Important and deliberate choices, does
he not carefully weigh the motives or reasons which come before
him, and then decide in accordance with those which appear to
him the strongest ? And does he not feel that he is a free and
accountable agent when he uses his power of choice in this way ?
In cases where our power of choosing has its most free and per-
fect exercise, do we ever choose in any other way ? And if at
any time we will and act suddenly, without deliberation, and from
the impulse of some strongly excited passion; is not this very
impulse of passion the motive which governs us? I predict that
“Inquirer,” and all other men, in the free exercise of the power
of choice, will determine, will, or choose, either according to what
appear to them the strongest reasons, after deliberation, or under
the influence of some strongly excited passion, which leaves them
no time for deliberation. -
“Inquirer” says: “Dr. Woods will see, on looking over page
191, that he has made a singularly incorrect statement of the
orthodox doctrine respecting the influence of Adam's sim. As the
words now stand, they represent the Orthodox as maintaining that
native depravity and all our sinful actions and volitions, which are
the invariable consequence of Adam's sin, are fatalism, entirely
precluding free, accountable agency.” One and another have
said to me: How could “Inquirer’’ make such a mistake? I
ascribe it not to any intention of his to misrepresent, but to his
hasty attention to the paragraph referred to. In the closing part
of my remarks on cause and effect, it was my object to point out
the consequences of adopting the theory of the Essay. This
object was pursued in the passage referred to by “Inquirer”
which any one may read for himself. First, I state the Orthodox
196 REPLY TO IN QUIRER.
doctrine as to the invariable connection between Adam's sin and
the sinful volitions and actions of his posterity. Having done
this, I turn to the Essay, which maintains that such an invariable
connection of antecedent and consequent proves the existence
of such a “producing cause,” as “excludes free agency.” I then
show what must follow from the theory of the Essay; namely,
either that the orthodox doctrine on this subject is true, and so,
according to the theory of the Essay, that our depravity and all
our sinful volitions and actions, being the invariable consequence
of Adam's sin, are matters of fatalism, entirely precluding free
agency; or else that there is no such connection, and that the
Orthodox doctrine is false. Thus, what I expressly represent as
a consequence of the theory which I oppose, “Inquirer” thinks
I represent as the doctrine of the Orthodox.
After closing his remarks very candidly and kindly, “Inqui-
rer” returns to the general subject in a postScript, and advances
Some things to which he doubtless expects me to reply. He says:
“Dr. Woods makes us mere passive recipients in all our passions
and desires.” But these are his words, not mine. To the word
passive, as explained by Edwards and Day, and as generally used
by the older divines, I have no objection. A man is passive in
this sense of the word, when he is the subject of an influence from
another, or is acted upon by another, how active Soever he himself
may be. Thus a man is said to be both passive and active in his
repentance and obedience. He is the subject of the divine in-
fluence, or is acted upon by the Spirit; and he himself acts, that
is, repents and obeys, in consequence of that influence. God
works in believers, and, in consequence, they work. But “In-
quirer’ doubtless uses the word passive as opposite to active, and
recipient as opposite to agent. Now as every reader will see, I
have taken great pains to show that, in this very matter, we are,
in the most proper sense, agents; that in our affections and de-
sires we are truly active; and that these mental actions are of as
high an order, at least as our volitions. I everywhere oppose the
idea, that, because our affections and desires are exercised spon-
taneously in view of appropriate objects, and are not controllel
R.E PLY TO IN QUIRER. 197
by a previous act of the will, we are not therefore free and active
in them, or accountable for them. I hold that we are free, specially
free in these mental acts—free, certainly, in as high a sense as
in those external acts which are completely dictated and con-
trolled by a volition.
“Inquirer” asks, how the command to love God and our neigh-
bor is to be obeyed, and what is the nature of the obligation
which lies on the sinner to exchange his enmity for love.” Ac
cording to the scheme which he seems to adopt, I should find it
impossible to make any reply. For if the affections are not a
part of our moral agency, for which we are justly responsible, I
see not how they can be commanded, or what obligation can lie
upon us to exercise them. But agcording to the view which I
have taken of the matter, it is easy to say something in the way
of reply. Love and hatred, and all the affections and emotions
which we exercise in view of moral objects, are free, unforced,
moral acts, for which we are justly accountable. God addresses
his law to us as active, moral beings, and requires us to love him,
and forbids our enmity. This command is right. For there is
nothing more certain, than that we ought to love and obey such a
being as God, and that we are blame-worthy and inexcusable for
hating him. But if we take the other view of the subject, the
view of those who hold that our affections and emotions are not
moral acts, how can we dispose of the difficulty 2 How can we
vindicate the law for requiring that we should exercise the affec-
tion of love, in which we are not moral agents, and for which we
cannot be responsible : “Inquirer” speaks of this as a “dark,
dark place.” It would be very dark to me, if I should adopt the
theory of my opponents. But, if I mistake not, the subject is
illuminated by a light which is sufficiently clear; and nothing is
necessary, but that we open our eyes to behold it. It is true at
least, that we may know all which is of practical use. That we are
intelligent, active, accountable beings, is an ultimate fact. The
sacred writers never say a word to prove it, but always assume it
as a well known fact. And they seem never to have imagined,
that any one could doubt it. Whatever the laws of the mind are;
17*
198 - REPLY TO IN QUIRER.
in whatever way our affections and desires are excited; under
whatever influence our volitions are produced; and whatever may
be found to be true in any other respect ; the certainty of our
moral, accountable agency is not for a moment to be questioned.
It is not a subject of reasoning, but of consciousness. Treat it as
a subject of speculative reasoning, and you involve it in darkness.
But treat it as a fact of consciousness, and all is clear. I have
said it is an ultimate fact. And we cannot go beyond what is
ultimate. We cannot reach further than this, either on the right
hand, or on the left. We cannot ascend to a greater height, or
go down to a lower depth. This fact bounds our knowledge; ex-
cept that we may look up, and see and adore the only wise God
who created us. His work is perfect, and cannot be mended.
With respect both to body and mind, we are fearfully and won-
derfully made. As to the mode of teaching the nature and rela-
tions of man, his duty, his sin and ill-desert, and the way of
recovery to holiness and happiness, we have the instructions and
the example of those who spake as they were moved by the Holy
Ghost. It is safe to follow their guidance. It is not safe to fol-
low any other.
It is not well to introduce questions on the great subjects of
religion, which the word of God will not help us to answer, and
which must gender doubt and strife. When “Inquirer’’ asks
how this and that can be ; who can answer 7 And if I should
ask him, in reference to one or another of his principles, how it can
be ; could he give an answer? The best and only safeguard
against an unsettled, skeptical state of mind, is to avoid the habit
of dwelling upon the speculative difficulties which hang about
every important subject; to adhere closely and reverently to the
word of God; to feed upon its precious truths, and to live in
obedience to its precepts; and finally, to cherish a constant, lively
sense of our weakness and danger, and a cordial reliance upon the
teaching of the Holy Spirit.
I now close. I hope I shall not be severely blamed, for writ-
ing so much, or for not writing more. I have not indeed re-
marked on every particular point suggested by “Inquirer.”
R. EPLY TO IN QUIRER. 199
but I have not passed over anything which I supposed important.
And I have not passed over anything because I thought it diffi-
cult to give an answer. Nor have I done it, because I am reluc-
tant to tell what I think. I have frankly and unreservedly dis-
closed my views, and my mode of reasoning on every subject
which has come under consideration ; and I am willing to do SC
on every other subject; so that what is right may be approved,
and that what is wrong may be corrected. Let those who differ
from me do the same. Let us all unite in avoiding concealment, and
equivocation, and every degree of undue confidence in ourselves,
and of uncandid or unkind feeling towards others; endeavoring
to join Soundness of doctrine with the spirit of forbearance and
love, and always remembering that bitterness of feeling, or the
want of sincere brotherly kindness, towards any of the ministers
or disciples of Christ, is one of the worst of errors.
I cannot but wish, that I had been able to think and write in a
manner more worthy of the subjects which have been brought
before me, and more adapted to advance the cause of truth.
Still it has been my aim to do that, and only that, which will
accord with the word of God, and both in asking and answering
questions, to keep in mind the all-revealing day. I hope that
“Inquirer” will look with favor, if not with entire satisfaction,
upon what I have done. For whatever my defects or my errors
in this performance may be, I have endeavored to speak the truth
in love. My correspondence with my unknown friend, though
not of my proposing, has been of the most pleasant kind. I
thank him for the respect and candor which are apparent in his
inquiries. What he and I have written is now before the public.
The Lord grant, that it may so work in with the thoughts and
reasonings of others, as in the end to contribute something
towards illustrating and confirming the theory of divine truth.
EFFICACY OF THE WORD OF GOD.
My present object is, to illustrate the value of the Word of
God, from a consideration of its salutary influence.
This method of estimating the value of God’s word, is evident-
ly just, and corresponds with our practice in judging of all other
things which we consider as means. If we would estimate the
value of anything in the natural world, for example, the value of
gold, or the value of food or medicine, we take into account the
good effects resulting from it, and the useful purposes which it
may be made to answer. It is unquestionably right to proceed
in the same way, when we judge of things in the moral world.
To take a distinguished instance, we inquire, what is the value
of Christ’s death, the most important event related in the history
of the divine administration. To satisfy ourselves on this point,
we take into view the benevolent ends to be accomplished by
that event—the important consequences which will flow from it,
in regard to the character and government of God, and the
eternal condition of his people. -
The efficacy belonging to the word of God, is doubtless similar,
in a general view, to the efficacy of any other instrumental or
dependent cause. That BEING, “ of whom are all things,” has
seen fit to appoint a connection between means and ends—be-
tween causes and effects. In consequence of this divine arrange-
ment, power to produce the effect becomes, in a dependent sense,
* First published in the Literary and Theological Review, Sept., 1834.
IEFFIC A C Y O F TEIB W ORD OF G O D . 201
a real attribute of the cause, and efficacy to accomplish the end,
an attribute of the means. It truly belongs to it, and so far as
God’s appointment goes, belongs to it invariably. In other
words the means is effectual, so far as God, by his own agency,
makes it effectual. Thus God is all in all.
The word of God, considered as an instrumental cause, has a
manifest fitness to produce its effects; and so its effects flow from
it in a manner which is obvious to those who have become proper
ly acquainted with the nature of the subject. Considering man to
be a rational and moral being, we perceive that such must be the
fitness and tendency of God’s word; and such must be its actual
effect, unless its proper influence is prevented by some evil counter-
action from without or from within. See how clearly this princi-
ple is illustrated by the parable of the Sower The seed sown
has a natural tendency to vegetate and produce a crop; but, that
it may actually have this effect, it must be sown in a suitable soil,
and be attended with other circumstances favorable to its growth.
If it be sown on Stony ground, or among thorns, or by the way-
side, the good effect will be prevented. In like manner, when
the divine word is presented to the minds of men, their moral
state may be such, and generally is such, that the proper effect
will be prevented. But if there be no hinderance; if the truth
meets with “an honest and good heart,” its Salutary effects are
certain. Its own proper mature and tendency are unalterable;
but in order to its actual efficacy, the influence of other causes
must be added, and obstacles removed. This circumstance does
not detract, in any degree, from the importance of the connection
between divine truth and its proper effect. It only shows more
clearly the nature and conditions of that connection. .
But while the beneficial effects produced by the word of God
are thus emphatically asserted, far be it from us to overlook the
Scripture doctrine of the special and Supernatural influence of
the Holy Spirit. The very fact that the truth is the means of
producing such effects, brings the divine agency directly into view.
Here we see that agency; for the Spirit of God produces its holy
fruits in this very way. He operates through divine truth. The
202 EFFIEC A C Y OF THE W () R D 0 E G O D .
connection between the word of God and its saving effects, is as
much owing to his will and agency, as the evistence of the soul.
The Apostle makes a clear distinction between the mere influence
of the truth and of those who preach it, and that divine influence
which “gives the increase.” The saving effects of divine truth
would no more take place without the Sanctifying Spirit, than the
world would come into existence without a Creator. They result
as really from his agency, as if he produced them without any
means whatever. In fact, we are to consider the whole system
of means, both in the natural and moral world, as designed and
adapted, not to set aside or conceal the constant agency of God,
but to bring it clearly into view, and so to make us acquainted
with that glorious Being, on whom all causes and effects ultimate-
ly depend, and who, in a manner perfectly suited to the nature
of created beings, “worketh all in all.”
In attempting to illustrate the happy efficacy of divine truth, I
shall have recourse, both to the Sacred volume, and, to the facts
which occur in the experience of intelligent Christians.
The nature of that influence which the truth exerts, is what we
learn from our own experience; it is a matter of consciousness.
The efficacy of the truth takes place in the mind, and consists in
the thoughts, apprehensions, feelings and determinations, which
the mind itself has. For the truth to enlighten the mind, is for
the mind itself so to contemplate the truth, as to have spiritual
light or knowledge. For the word of God to convert the soul, is
for the soul itself to turn from sin to God, in view of divine truth,
and under its influence. And generally for the truth to exert a
sanctifying power over the mind, is for the mind itself so to con-
template divine truth, as to have right thoughts and emotions, and
to advance in holiness. Thus the efficacy of divine truth relates
directly to our agency, that is, to the operations of our own
minds. Or it may be still more just to say, that the influence of
the truth appears in the acts which the mind itself puts forth
while the truth is before it, and is to be judged of altogether by
those acts.
The efficacy of God’s word is conspicuous in the conviction and
E F FIC A. C. Y. O'F THE WO R D G) E G O D. 203
conversion of sinners. This is set forth in a very striking manner
in the nineteenth Psalm. The writer here uses such strength
and copiousness of style, and such reiterated expressions of the
same thought, as to show that his soul waked up to ecstasy, in
contemplating his subject. “The law of the Lord is perfect, con-
verting the soul. The testimony of the Lord is sure, making
wise the simple. The statutes of the Lord are right, rejoicing
the heart. The commandment of the Lord is pure, enlightening the
eyes.” So in the New Testament. “The word of God is quick
and powerful, and sharper than any two-edged sword — and is
a discerner of the thoughts and intents of the heart.” “Born
again of the word of God, which liveth and abideth forever.”
We are taught the same lesson by experience and observation.
Has not every one, who is convinced of sin, a consciousness that
his conviction is produced by means of the truths contained in
the Scriptures 7 Look at the three thousand who were pricked
in their hearts under Peter's preaching. It was divine truth, it
was the Apostle's preaching, made up in a great measure of
citations from the word of God, which awakened them, and led
them to inquire what they should do to be saved. It is sub-
stantially so in all instances. Whatever event may occur that
is adapted to touch the feelings of sinners; whatever may be
the more remote occasion of leading them to consider their
ways; no salutary conviction is produced, before the holiness
and authority of God, the nature and obligations of his law,
and other truths of revelation, are impressed on their hearts.
Other things may excite, and agitate, and alarm. But it is divine
truth, rendered effectual by the power of the Holy Ghost, which
enlightens the conscience, convinces of sin, subdues the pride
and obstimacy of the heart, and prepares the way for faith in
Christ.
The general principle now stated, is one which discerning and
faithful ministers of the gospel are always careful to observe.
They make use of no means unauthorized by Scripture, to disturb
the slumbering conscience. They employ no sounds of horror to
terrify the imagination, and no images of fictitious tenderness to
204 EFFIC A C Y OF THE WOR D OF GO D .
move the sensibilities of the heart. They hold forth the simple
word of God, laboring clearly to explain it, and deeply to im-
press its truths upon the conscience and heart. In this way
they always have proceeded, and always must proceed. An ef-
fect is to be produced in a moral agent; an effect of a moral
nature, that is, a moral affection, or a moral state. Now acting
in our province as dependent instruments, what can we do, except
to present the proper motive, and so attempt to exert an in-
fluence, suited to the nature of man, and to the nature of the
effect to be produced, that is, conviction of sin. Of what are
sinners to be convinced 2 They are to be convinced that the
divine commands are holy, just, and good; “that sin is ex-
ceedingly sinful;” that sinners deserve the penalty of the law,
and must endure it, unless delivered by grace. Now, in order
that they may be thus convinced, these truths must be made
known to them, and inculcated upon them — must reach the in-
most recesses of their souls.
The same is true as to conversion, or the actual turning of a
sinner to God. This is an event which takes place in a moral
agent, and in which his moral agency is directly concerned.
The sinner turns from sin to holiness, from enmity to love. The
rebel submits and obeys. The despiser of Christ thankfully
embraces him. This is conversion. But how is this brought
about 7 Was any one ever induced to turn from sin to holiness,
without being made to See and feel, that sin is hateful and
destructive, and holiness desirable and excellent 2 When the
sinner turns, he turns with these views. These truths act upon
him as rational motives, and induce him to turn. How is the
sinner brought to love God? The eyes of his understanding
being enlightened, and his heart renewed by the Holy Spirit, he
sees that God is infinitely excellent and glorious. But this is a
divine truth. And when a man really loves God, he does it under
the influence of this truth. In like manner, submission, faith
and obedience take place in view of different parts of divine
truth. Accordingly when the ministers of Christ wish to pro-
mote the conversion of sinners, and bring them to obey the
IEFFIC A C Y OF THE WO R. D. O. F. G O D . 205
gospel, what have they to do, but to make known divine truth :
This is their province — the department of labor assigned to them.
By this means they seek the conversion of sinners.
The divine word equally shows its efficacy, in the progressive
sanctification of believers. “Sanctify them through thy truth; thy
word is truth.” “That he might sanctify and cleanse the church
— by the word.” Holiness, whether in sinners newly converted, or
in Christians in the different stages of their progress, and whether
it relates to God, or his law, or sin, or any other object, has an
invariable relation to divine truth; so that there is no way in
which we can do anything to excite holy affections in the minds
of Christians, however great their progress in Sanctification, but
by presenting divine truth before them, and leading them clearly
to understand it, and devoutly to meditate upon it. This, accord-
ing to the appointment of God, is the means of promoting
growth in grace. For every time divine truth is so contemplated
as to excite acts of holiness, the soul is advanced in the divine life.
The apostles made it their object to carry forward those who were
converted to perfection. And by what means did they aim to
do this? Their epistles show. They repeatedly and earnestly
inculcated upon Christians the various truths of religion, for the
very purpose of leading them on to higher attainments in piety.
The greater part of their epistles was devoted to this object.
We are not, by any means, to regard it as necessary, that the
truth which promotes spiritual growth, should be new truth. The
same truth which has excited holy affection once, is suited to ex-
cite it again. If the heart is right, the more frequently any
truth is contemplated, the more frequently will the corresponding
affection be drawn forth. Hence the utility of our perusing the
Scriptures and hearing the truths of religion publicly explained
and enforced again and again. And as it is a fact, that the
habit of holiness is promoted, not simply by the frequency with
which holy affections are exercised, but also by the strength of
the exercise; it follows, that that method of exhibiting divine
truth, which produces the strongest holy affection, contributes
most to Sanctification. The truth as a moral cause, acting on the
WOL. W. 18
206 EFFIC A. C Y OF THE W ORD OF G O D.
minds of Christians, will be efficacious to promote their sanctifi-
cation in proportion to the clearness with which it is presented
to view, and the intenseness of thought and feeling which it ex-
cites.
..It would be easy to show, that Christians are successful in
their warfare against sin, that they patiently bear trials, that they
rise above discouragements, and through every difficulty press
forward towards the mark, and finally gain the prize, under the
influence of God’s holy word. Let the word of God pass away
from their minds, and they lose all their power to perform duty,
or to endure trials; are carried about with every wind; are
the slaves of passion, and have no means of casting off the
bondage.
It is through the power of divine truth, that Christians are
sustained in their last conflict. Should what the Spirit of God
has taught them from the Scriptures be erased from their memo-
ries and hearts, how quickly would their joy and peace in be-
lieving, and the supports of God’s presence in the valley of
death, all forsake them | Their minds would be dark as midnight;
and the whole moral world would be a dreary waste.
The same remarks which have been made as to the conversion
and sanctification of individuals, are applicable to revivals of re-
ligion in the larger sense. A genuine revival is indeed the work
of God. It is so in the highest sense; and all the glory of it
is due to him. But while God’s agency in this work is special
and supernatural, he still makes use of divine truth. He
causes a revival of religion to take place, by exerting such an
influence upon the Souls of men, as prepares them to believe and
obey his word. One grand effect of the influence of the Spirit
is, that men are made to feel the certainty and importance of the
truths of revelation. Look upon any place where the Spirit of
God is poured out, and where that state of things exists which
constitutes a genuine revival, and see how all the effects produced
connect themselves with the influence of divine truth. The min-
ister of the gospel, being himself deeply affected with the truths
of religion, exhibits them clearly and impressively to others. He
E FIFI C A C Y OF TEIB W ORD OF GO D . 207
makes this his great work. Christians are alive to divine truth,
and take pains to inculcate it upon those around them. “The
word of God becomes quick and powerful.” It is this sacred
word, which awakens multitudes from their fatal slumbers, and
leads them to consider their ways. It is this, which teaches them
that their character is hateful in the sight of God; that they are
sinners without excuse. It is the word of God that reveals to
them the abominations of their hearts, slays all their false hopes,
and makes it perfectly manifest to them, that they must perish
forever, unless the sovereign grace of God interpose to save them.
It is the word of God, attended by the power of his Spirit, that
brings men to discern the glory of the Saviour, and cordially to
trust in his all-sufficient grace. And it is this blessed volume,
making known the precious promises, and opening the very gate
of heaven before them, that fills them with the comforts of hope,
animates them in their warfare against sin, and prepares them for
the crown of victory. Thus it is by the word of God, rendered
effectual by the renovating power of the Spirit in the heart, that
all saving religion is begun, and advanced, and finally made per-
fect. If, then, we would promote a revival of religion, we must
plainly teach the word of God, and impress its truths upon the
conscience and heart. Ministers, parents, teachers, all Chris-
tians, must do this, and must do it with sincere love and perse-
vering diligence. Suppose the Apostle Paul were now com-
missioned to visit our congregations; in what way would he labor
to promote the work of conversion and sanctification ? He would
do it, as he did in the time of his apostleship, by declaring all the
counsel of God, and by fervent, importunate prayer for the in-
fluence of the Spirit to prepare the heart to receive the truth,
and so to render the truth effectual. And if the Apostle should
go to any place, and should see the people inattentive to the
word of God, and indifferent to its momentous truths, he would
judge them to be far from the kingdom of heaven. But if, in
any place, he should see persons of every age, daily searching
the Scriptures, especially if he should see them in their places of
retirement, and their hours of solitude, devoutly reading the
208 EFFIC AC Y OF THE WO R. D OF GO D .
sacred volume, and praying that God would teach them to un-
derstand it, and then spontaneously exclaiming, How sweet is thy
word to my taste / should he behold parents and children, thus
seeking the knowledge of God’s holy word, and beginning to
feed their souls upon its heavenly truths; he would feel a joyful
confidence that God was about to arise and build up Zion.
And the same divine word which is the means of promoting a re-
vival of religion in particular places, is to be the means of extending
Salvation to all the nations of the earth. The appointment of
Heaven, in this respect, is unalterable. Whatever is done for
the conversion of the world, must be done by means of divine
truth. The word of God will be sent forth to every land; will
be preached and read in all languages; will expose the folly and
wickedness of idolatry, and the evil of every kind of sin, and
will make known the only living and true God, and Jesus Christ,
the only Saviour. And through the power of the Holy Ghost
sent down from heaven, the truth will have a saving efficacy, and
the knowledge of it will be life eternal.
It is sometimes thought, that making so much of the efficacy
of divine truth, tends to lower our conceptions of the influence
of the Spirit, and to detract from the glory of God’s grace.
It might be a sufficient reply to such a view of the subject, that
the sacred writers, who always show the highest zeal for the glory
of God, assert in the strongest terms the power of divine truth.
Nor do they ever appear to have the least apprehension, that
their doing so will be any dishonor to God. Indeed we find
them most abundant in setting forth the influence of the truth,
at the very time when their eye is evidently fixed upon the glory
of God. This circumstance would naturally lead us to think that
in some way the two views of the subject must be consistent, and
that while the inspired writers ascribe such an influence to divine
truth in the Salvation of men, they mean to ascribe a still higher
influence to the Spirit of God. . And this we find to be the case.
“I planted, Apollos watered, but God gave the increase.” From
this, and many other passages, it appears, not only that God ex-
ercises an influence superior to the mere influence of divine truth,
E F FIC A C Y O F THE WO R. D OF GO D . 209
but that all the influence which the truth has, is owing to his
special agency in the souls of men. The truth becomes effectual
through the power of the Holy Ghost. So that the greater the
efficacy of divine truth, the more conspicuous is that divine power
from which it is derived.
Nothing can be more manifest than that God’s working in this
way contributes directly to his glory. If sinners were converted
without the influence of divine truth, they would be converted with-
out any knowledge of God, or of his law, or of any other spiritual
object. Hence God could not be glorified, because he would not
be known — would not be known by converted sinners, any more
than by the trees of the forest. But as God operates in the
moral world by means of the truth, his perfections are manifested,
and he becomes the object of love and praise. When he operates
thus, he operates in noon-day light, so that his hand is seen, and
his name exalted and glorified. The very truth which awakens
and sanctifies, is the truth which reveals his character. Why
then should it ever be imagined, that the dependent influence
which we attribute to divine truth as a means of sanctification,
will obscure the lustre of God’s glory, when that influence is but
the clear light of truth kindled up in the Souls of men, making his
glory to be seen and his agency to be acknowledged and felt 7
Behold then the immense value of the sacred volume, arising
from the vast amount of good which it accomplishes; and render
unceasing thanks to God for so precious a gift. The light of the
knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ is above
, all price. And will you not bless God for that precious volume,
which has shed this glorious, transforming light upon your souls?
You thank God for your daily bread; but his holy word supplies
spiritual food “the bread from heaven, which if a man eat he shall
live forever.” You thank God for bodily health, and for the
means of preserving it, and when lost, of restoring it. But you
owe him warmer gratitude for the gift of his word, which is the
means of healing the diseases of the mind, and imparting spiritual
health and vigor. You may remember the time when you were
regardless of your eternal interests and in a state of moral slum
*
18*
210 EFFIC A C Y OF THE WO R D OF GO D.
ber. From that fatal slumber the word of God roused you.
Once you were enemies to God by wicked works. But the divine
word, accompanied by the special agency of the Spirit, has slain
your enmity, and kindled holy love. Once you were in servitude
to sin. But the power of the gospel has freed you from that cruel
servitude, and brought you into the liberty of the sons of God.
You may call to remembrance seasons of darkness, struggles, fears
and sorrows. And do you not remember, too, how many times
the word of God has enlightened your minds, dissipated your
sorrows and fears, strengthened you, and given you peace?
When you have been in a lukewarm and backsliding state, has
not the word of God been the means of reclaiming you, and
rekindling your zeal 2 What spiritual maladies has it healed !
How has it been a lamp to your feet, and a light to your path !
What comfort has it afforded you in affliction With what power
has it prompted you to live to God, and to labor and suffer for the
interests of his kingdom | Call to mind your deliverances from
danger, your seasons of repentance, and love, and communion with
God, your pious labors, your victories over sin, and your hopes of
heaven. Call these to mind, and learn the efficacy of God's holy
word, and the reasons you have to bless God for such a gift.
But while it is true that the word of God has mingled its
healing, purifying, comforting influence with your past experience;
it is also true, that it must continue to have the same influence,
and must have it in an increasing degree. There is a great
work of sanctification still to be accomplished. And your heavenly
Advocate prayed that this might be accomplished by means of
the divine word. “Sanctify them through thy truth; thy word
is truth.” You may still have many a dark and dreary place to
pass through, many difficulties, distresses and dangers to encoun-
ter, before you arrive at your final home. And, it is this same
divine word which must afford you the assistance you will need.
Look then at what remains to be done before you can receive the
unfading crown, and learn how precious is that word of God, by
means of which it is all to be accomplished, and what everlasting
thanks you owe to God for such a blessing. Look also at the
IE FIFICA C Y OF TEII; W ORD OF GO D. 211
display of grace which must be made in the conversion of the
world. What darkness must be dissipated | From what er-
rors and sins must the earth be purged . Oh! what a work
it must be to renovate such a world as this, and to fill it with the
fruits of holiness, and the joys of salvation | This difficult and
glorious work the Spirit of God will accomplish through the in-
strumentality of his holy word. It will all be the work of God;
but he will accomplish it through the truth. In the progress of
his merciful administration, he will give his word a more effica-
cious and extensive influence than ever before, and so will make
its value morè clearly to be seen. As far as the heavens are
above the earth, so far does the Bible exceed in preciousness
every worldly good; and it ought to be received with higher
gratitude, and with gladness of heart more pure and rapturous.
May God send out his light and truth. May all the nations of
the earth Soon receive his life-giving word, and experience its
Saving efficacy, and so may they be prepared to unite in one
chorus of praise to the God of love, who has bestowed such a
gift, and whose Sovereign and gracious influence invests it with
Such power to illuminate, and purify, and comfort the souls of
D10H.
SERM () NS
IN T H R E E S E R I F. S.
1. FUNERAL SERMONS. 2. ORDINATION SERMONS.
3. SERMONS ON VARIOUS SUBJECTS, DOCTRINAL AND
PRACTICAL.
A S E R M 0 N
DELIVERED IN ANDOVER, MAY 3, 1812, AT THE FUNERAL OF SAMUEL ABBOT, ONE
OF TELE FOUNDERS OF TEDE THEOLOGICAL SEMOUNARY.
Heb. 6: 12. — THAT YE BE NoT SLOTHFUL, BUT Follow ERs of THEM, who
TEIROUGEI FAITEI AND PATIENCE INHERIT TELE PROMISES.
IN this passage, the Apostle directed the thoughts of the
Hebrews to Abraham, Isaac, and Jacob, and other Saints, who
through faith in the promises and patient expectation of their
accomplishment, and through meekness and fortitude under the
sufferings of life, had gone beyond the reach of trouble and
danger, and were in possession of the heavenly inheritance. He
directed their thoughts to those ancient believers, not to excite
their admiration, nor to gratify their curiosity, but to rouse them to
diligent imitation.
It is our duty, brethren, as it was the duty of the Hebrews, to
imitate the example of believers.
I would by no means intimate that the character of believers,
even those most distinguished for holiness, is without fault. The
best Christians on earth must not be set up as infallible guides;
they must not occupy the place of Jesus Christ.
The general consideration by which I would enforce the duty
of following the saints, is the excellence of their example. They
all have the spirit of Christ, and walk in his steps. They are
216 SERM O N O N TEIE DEATH
clothed with humility. The love of God is the governing affection
of their hearts, and shows itself by obedience. The law of God
is the rule of their actions. Their religion does not consist in
bare profession or ostentatious zeal, but in a good life—life of
sincere benevolence and piety. Such, in a measure, is the life of
all Christians. A Christian without the spirit of Christ — a good
man without a good life, is a palpable absurdity. If Christians
had nothing but profession ; if with all the respect which they
occasionally show for religion, they were as covetous, Selfish, false,
and useless, as men of the world are ; their example would mis-
lead and destroy. But with all their lamented imperfections, they
are the excellent of the earth. By the Spirit of God they have
been renewed to holiness; and are comely through the comeliness
which divine grace has put upon them. Now it is plainly our
duty to imitate them in everything that is excellent and praise-
worthy. We should imitate the faith, by which they confide in
the infallible truth of the word of God; by which, especially, they
receive Christ as he is offered in the gospel. We should imitate
their humility, by which they are brought to take their place at the
feet of Jesus, and to prefer others to themselves. We should
imitate their supreme love to God and their active benevolence to
men, by which they comply with the spirit of the moral law. We
should imitate their patience in affliction, their forgiveness of
injuries, their zeal to do good, their spiritual mindedness, and
their habitual devotion. Whatsoever things are pure, whatsoever
things are excellent, whatsoever things are lovely in them, we
ought diligently to copy.
It is hardly necessary to remark, that good example more
clearly shows the beauty of holiness, and is much better calculated
to make a salutary impression on our minds than mere precept.
This is true of the good example of every intelligent being, of
whatever rank. But the example of believers has peculiar
advantages, being the example of those who are possessed of the
same nature, and subject to the same trials with ourselves. Are
we weak and depraved, and exposed to temptations and difficulties
from without and within : So were all the saints whose names
O F S A M U E L A B B O T. 217.
are recorded in the Scriptures. Nay, in most instances, the
difficulties they had to encounter were far greater, than those
which exist at the present day. Their example then clearly shows
that religion is attainable ; that duty may be practised; that all
the excellent virtues, which their life manifested, may be manifested
in Ours. - º
But the good influence of Christians is much increased if they
live in our own times, in our own country, in our own circle ; and
above all, if we have a personal acquaintance with them. In these
circumstances, we obtain clearer views of their character. We do
indeed see more of their failings. But we also see more of their
virtues; and we see them in their own proper light. The moral
features of those who are distant from us, are liable to be misrep-
resented and misconceived. When you paint the character of a
Christian of a distant age or place, you may set it off with all the
glowing colors which the imagination can give it ; and you may
make it a finished character. But it is the character of no Chris-
tian on earth. Nor is , it the character of any Saint or angel in
heaven; for no painter can give an exact portrait of one whom he
never saw. Whom then does it resemble 7 No one. . It is a
false picture. And the impression it will make upon us, will be as
slight, as the image is false. But when we fix our eyes upon a
follower of Christ who is near us, and with whom we are person-
ally acquainted; we are brought back to realities. We see a
character which the grace of God has formed. We discern its
features exactly. We want no picture; for we have the original
before us. The beauties we behold are true and substantial ; and
unless some great fault in us prevents, the sight of them will con.
tribute to our lasting improvement.
The example of believers is attended with greater advantages
still, if, besides acquaintance with them in the common intercourse
of life, we have known their more private views, trials, and enjoy-
ments. In these ways, we come to a more exact discernment of
their character. We learn the secret springs of their actions.
They show us something of that spiritual life, which is hid with
Christ in God. We see the faithfulness of their conscience, the
VOL. V. w 19
218 S E R M O N ON TEI E D E AT H
tenderness of their heart, and their struggles with temptation.
We hear their groans under the burden of remaining sin, and their
sighs after deliverance.
And how peculiarly impressive does their example become, if we
have access to them on the bed of languishing. Have you been
conversant with a good man, when finishing his course, when near
his everlasting home 2 Have you seen him at the threshold of
heaven? Have you seen in him that faith, which overcometh the
world 2 Have you witnessed his humble hope, his panting after
God, his meekness and patience, his hatred of sin, his love of the
Saints, his forgiveness of enemies, his steady and earnest desire for
the prosperity of the church, and his compassion for the world 2
Have you witnessed his submission to the will of God, and that
tranquillity which bodily weakness and distress and the prospect
of a speedy dissolution could not disturb 7 Have you seen celes-
tial joy kindle in his soul at the thought of arriving at his
journey’s end, and being forever with the Lord 7 You must then
have an undoubting conviction of the reality and excellence of his
religion, and deeply feel the influence of his example. The death-
bed of the Saint is not a place of delusion. There, the dreams
and visions of the world vanish, and things appear what they are.
Infidels may dispute, and the profane world point the finger of
scorn; but if you have witnessed the last end of a good man, you
have evidence of the solid foundation of his hope which must be
forever conclusive, and a motive, which nothing but hardness of
heart can resist, to copy his example.
But, in many instances, the example of a good man exerts a
Salutary influence in the highest degree, in consequence of his
decease. His example now becomes more impressive than ever,
being associated with all the tender recollections excited by his
departure. We now remember, with new emotions, the loveliness
of his temper, his edifying conversation, his useful deeds, and
every excellence of his character. Many things, little regarded
and soon forgotten during his life, are now recalled. We fix our
thoughts upon his whole character and life, and view it in a more
consistent and affecting light than ever before. At the same time
O F SAM U E L A B B O T. 219
the influence of his example is increased and rendered more bene-
ficial, by our thinking what and where he now is, and what will be
his condition through everlasting ages.
This brings us to the particular consideration suggested in the
text: “Be followers of them, who through faith and patience
inherit the promises.” They were not afraid to engage in the
Christian warfare, nor prevented from persevering. They fought
a good fight, and overcame all their enemies. Many were the
difficulties and dangers they met in their way; but they finished
their course. The path which they travelled, led them to a peace-
ful death and a happy immortality. In the promises of God they
firmly trusted; and now, far removed from sin and suffering, they
inherit the promised good. Christ has said, “To him that over-
cometh will I grant to sit with me on my throne.” The fulfilment
of this promise they now experience. They have obtained the
end of their faith, the salvation of their souls. Shall we not imi-
tate a life, which has terminated so happily Shall we not pursue
a course, which has always led to glory? If the departed Saints
had found their labors in vain, and had, after all, fallen short of
the heavenly rest ; we might be discouraged. But what more
animating motive can stimulate us to follow their steps, than the
unfailing success of their labors, the blessed issue of their trials,
and the glorious victory which has crowned their warfare 7
In our feelings toward Christian friends, especially those who
have entered into rest, are we not frequently chargeable with a
great fault 2 We may have respected their character, been
delighted with their conversation, applauded their benevolence, and
been affected with momentary grief at their death. But is this
all that we owe them 7 And is this all that we owe to the grace
of God on their account” When we contemplate their amiable
and pious character, ardent love should be kindled in our hearts.
We ought to admire the power and glory of divine grace in cre-
ating them anew in Christ Jesus unto good works, and preparing
them for the heavenly inheritance. Their goodness should make
a deep and permanent impression upon us. And what is more,
we should diligently follow their steps. Every other proof of
220 e SERM O N O N T BIE D EAT BI
affection is nothing, without this. If we truly love the saints, we
shall imitate them, and labor to promote their benevolent designs.
The cause of Christ, which was so dear to their hearts, will be
dear to ours. All their pious wishes we shall endeavor to carry
into effect. To think, this was the desire of that dear saint, now in
heaven, will be a powerful spring to exertion. I repeat it, that a
faithful compliance with the pious wishes of departed Christians,
and a careful imitation of their holy example, is the best proof we
can give of sincere affection for them. The Lord grant, that we
may all give this proof of our cordial esteem and love for that
dear Christian, whose lifeless body is now before us. And may
all the honor which we render to his memory, ultimately redound
to God, by whose power he was created ; by whose Spirit he was,
as we trust, renewed and guided and trained up for glory. That
there has been such a man among us, will, we doubt not, be to the
praise of the glory of God’s grace.
The first thing in his character which I shall mention, was
habitual devotion. His life furnished pleasing evidence, that he
sincerely and unreservedly devoted himself to God, saying, with
the Psalmist, “Lord, I am thine.” Our departed friend loved
the house of God. He loved the saints. He loved the Holy
Scriptures. He delighted in religious contemplation and prayer
and conscientiously observed the commands of God, and what bet-
ter evidence could he give of real and habitual piety 7
His devotion had no flights, and usually no raptures. But it
had the marks of humility, of seriousness and tenderness, of con-
stancy and carnestness. He walked with God.
His attention to duty was universal. He did not think of
atoning for the neglect of the duties he owed to mankind, by
multiplying his religious performances. Nor did he think of
atoming for the neglect of religion, by punctuality in Social duties.
He had respect to all the divine precepts, and hated every false
and sinful way.
He was remarkable for sincerity and uprightness. The sin
of flattery he abhorred. One of his maxims was, “to praise no
man in his presence, and speak evil of no one in his absence.” If
OF SAMUEL A B B O T. 221
he had any difficulty in his mind respecting others, he considered
it a sacred duty to apprize them of it. He would not suffer sin
upon his neighbor. And his kindness, his lovely simplicity and
meekness enabled him to give reproof with the greatest advantage.
No one could be offended. His uprightness and veracity were so
uniform and remarkable, that all who knew him, could unite in
saying, “He was an Israelite indeed, in whom was no guile.”
In an uncommon degree, he had the government of his passions.
His was the happiness of ruling his own spirit. He attained to
such self-command, that there is reason to doubt, whether he was
angry the last twenty years of his life. The agitations and con-
tentions of the world left his passions cool. He kept at a distance
from the storm, and found a refuge in the calmness and gentle-
ness of his own mind. tº
He was equally remarkable for the government of the tongue.
The Apostle James states this as one of the best marks of real
goodness. “If any man offend not in word, the same is a perfect
man.” Who ever heard that tongue, now silent in death, utter
falsehood, reviling, or slander 2 That good man governed his
speech by the meekness of wisdom. He had well considered the
effects of an unbridled tongue, “that unruly evil, that world of
iniquity, that deadly poison, that fire which sets the whole course
of nature in a flame.” Against these evils he watched and
prayed, and employed his tongue in harmless, kind, and profitable
discourse.
He was a man of prudence. He exercised this virtue in the
management of all his concerns. No man perhaps ever had less
of that rashness which flows from imagination without judgment,
and from ardor without experience, and which often renders the
best plans abortive. He had a deep conviction that he was liable
to err. This conviction induced a habit of cautious deliberation,
and, on important subjects, of being slow in forming conclusions.
His prudence led him to guard against extremes in religion. He
loved the obvious, sober sense of Scripture. In matters of doc-
trine, he chose the happy medium; in matters of practice, the
plain path, the footsteps of the flock. In short, he had that use-
19*
222 S ER. M. O N ON TEſ E D E AT H
ful wisdom, which results from an homest and teachable mind and
long acquaintance with the affairs of the world. This wisdom
effectually preserved him from hurtful mistakes, and enabled him
successfully to execute his plans, without giving “offence either to
Jew or Gentile.”
He was eminently a peace-maker. Few Christians so fully
comply with the Apostle's direction: “If it be possible, as much
as lieth in you, live peaceably with all men.” When duty per-
mitted, he was willing to give up his own rights, and to do any-
thing, or be anything, for the sake of peace.
He had a quick sense of moral evil, especially in himself.
Judging of things by the word of God, he perceived many feel-
ings and actions to be sinful, which are commonly regarded as
innocent. Wandering thoughts in religious duties, the want of
warmth in his affections, and of life in his devotion were his con-
stant burden and grief, and made him long after heaven. Any
impropriety or error in managing his domestic concerns was
quickly perceived, and as quickly acknowledged.
He was distinguished for a simple respect to the will of God.
He sought seriously and prayerfully, to know God’s will, that he
might do it. And he obtained the promised good. Rarely can a
Christian be found, to whom the path of duty is generally made
So plain as it was to him. In the most important transactions of
his life, particularly those which related to the establishment of
the THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, his duty, as he often declared, was
made as clear to his mind, as if it had been pointed out to him by
a voice from heaven. This entire satisfaction respecting the path
of duty, which was perhaps the most distinguishing trait in his
character, resulted, not from the extent of his knowledge, nor
from any enthusiastical impression, but from that habit of calm
deliberation, that single regard to the will of God, and that divine
teaching, which afford the safest and best guidance.
Finally, he was remarkable for his beneficence. He had sin
cere compassion for the poor, and opened his hand for theil
relief. With warm and steady affection, he endeavored to pro-
mote the welfare of civil Society. For the instruction of children
O R S A MUET, A B B O T. 223
in every branch of useful knowledge, especially for their reli-
gious education, he was greatly concerned. This favored church
and society know what he did for this object, and for their religious
interest in other ways. Many years ago he began to give as-
sistance to young men of talents and hopeful piety, in their
preparation for the ministry. But none of his plans of doing
good satisfied him—none corresponded with the extent of
his benevolence, before he entertained the design of found-
ing an institution for the education of theological students.
This design he often declared, was first suggested to him by no
man on earth; but by the Spirit of God. This he seriously and
constantly believed; and this no Christian can doubt. The
nature and design of the Seminary exactly agreed with his feel-
ings. Religious beneficence had become his grand object. To
this he had consecrated much of the wealth which God had
given him. His strict economy and all his exertions to retain
and increase his property were directed to the great design of
doing good to the church of Christ. It was his own expression,
“you can’t tell how much pleasure I have taken in saving for
this object.” He did not labor to hoard up riches. He did not
live to himself; but labored to be rich in good works. By his
pious beneficence, or using his substance for the promotion of re-
ligion, he showed that he knew the real value and proper use of
riches. The method of doing good which he adopted, was both
in its nature, and in the extent of its fruits, superior to all others.
He frequently mentioned it, as his end in what he had done for
the Seminary, to bring thousands and millions to glory. This
Institution was his favorite object; and its prosperity constituted
much of his comfort in the concluding years of his life. In this
centered his warmest affections. He connected it with his most
Solemn devotions, his purest pleasures, his best hopes of the
church’s prosperity. It was his deliberate and full persuasion,
that he had done well in contributing to the establishment of such
a Seminary; that so great an object called for his utmost ea:-
ertions. We have no doubt that he thinks so still, and that the
judgment day will confirm the persuasion.
224 S ER. M. O N O N THE DEATEI
I owe to the memory of my patron and friend to declare, that
I have considered it one of the most precious privileges of my
life, to enjoy his paternal affection, and to be near him in his
feeble and languishing state. The observations, therefore, which
I have made, and those which I am about to make, are not
founded on vague report, but derived from the most intimate per-
Sonal acquaintance.
There is reason to believe that for several of his last years, his
religion, which commenced in early life, became more deep and
operative, and his enjoyments more constant and spiritual. He
evidently grew in grace and in the knowledge of Christ. He
had an increasing conviction of the truth and importance of those
evangelical doctrines, for the propagation of which he helped to
found this Seminary. But his belief of those doctrines was not
produced by reasoning, but was the result of childlike submission
to the authority of God in his word. In this way his faith be-
came altogether practical, and was at the same time an act of
piety. But it was not on this account less rational or sure. It
rested on the proper ground, and partook more of affection than
of intellect. His faith in the truths of revelation was fixed and
invariable. Whatever doubts he might sometimes have respect-
ing his own piety, he had none respecting the doctrines of the
gospel.
His unwavering and cordial belief of those doctrines was the
foundation of his religious character, and the source of his en-
joyments. I wish you could fully know what tranquillity of mind
he possessed during the last six months. Confined to his house
— then to his chamber, and with a very feeble and sometimes
distressed bodily state, he had the peace of God which passeth
all understanding. Self-righteousness he utterly renounced.
He had nothing which he looked upon, as in any degree the
ground of acceptance with God. All his benevolent and useful
deeds he counted loss for the excellency of the knowledge of
Christ. With the most lively sensations, and sometimes with
weeping, he expressed his entire reliance on the mere mercy of
God. He saw no other foundation. He desired no other.
OF SAMU E L A B B O T. 225
He felt more and more satisfied, that in his religious charities
he had been directed by the Spirit of God, and had done what
he should rejoice in forever. He frequently expressed a hope,
that his beloved Seminary would become far more extensively
useful, than he at first conceived; that it would be the means
not only of doing good to the churches in this country, but of
spreading the gospel among distant heathen nations. Often,
when contemplating the Institution in this light, did he turn his
thoughts upon himself, and say, with every token of humility and
tenderness, – “I am astonished, that God should make use of
such a poor creature as I am, to do this great work.”
In the chamber of sickness, frequent prayer was his delight
and refreshment. He seemed more and more perfectly to re-
sign himself to the will of his Father in heaven. He was tired
of sin; though not tired of living in God’s world; nor was he
tired of laboring and suffering for God. “I desire to live,”
he often said, “if God has anything more for me to do or to
suffer.” His cheerful patience, meekness, and resignation,
together with the uniform and regular exercise of his reason,
rendered his sickness very edifying to his Christian friends.
When he came near to his home, he showed increasing desires
after God, saying repeatedly — “there is enough in God; — I
want nothing but God.” Just before his speech failed, he was
asked, whether he could say — “whom have I in heaven but
thee ? and there is none on earth I desire beside thee;” —
“Yes,”—he answered very feelingly — “with all my heart, and
with all my soul, and with all my mind.” At times he felt a
joy, almost too intense for his feeble body to sustain, at the
thought of being forever with the Lord, and seeing him face to
face.
With the mourning Widow the hearts of many most tenderly
sympathize. In the midst of her grief she will not forget to thank
God that, for more than fifty years she was blessed with a con-
sort, who was an example of conjugal love and tenderness. May
she be enabled to glorify God by pious resignation; and by con-
tinuing to Walk in the steps of her inestimable friend, now sleep-
226 SERMON ON THE DEATH OF SAMUEL ABB O T.
ing in death. May her heart be cheered by the hope of meet-
ing him in heaven. While she remains in this world of sor-
row may the God of all grace and comfort grant her his pres-
€1000.
This dispensation of providence imposes a sacred duty on all
who are connected with this Seminary — the surviving Founders,
Visitors, Trustees, Professors, and Students. We ought to
humble ourselves under the mighty hand of God. We ought
to praise the Giver of all good, for raising up such a benefactor,
such a distinguished pattern of Christian beneficence. Above
all, we ought to consider and fix in our minds, what was his
object in his benefactions to this Seminary, and in what manner
he has directed us to pursue that object. His death ought to be
a new excitement to the faithful discharge of all our duties rela-
tive to this Sacred Institution. If we overlook his great object,
disregard his directions, misapply his charity; and forget his love
of union and peace, we shall be guilty of trampling his honor in
the dust. If we do this, how can we meet him at the Judgment
seat of Christ 7
Beloved hearers, a man of God has been among you, and by
divine grace shown you how to use this world, how to live, and
how to die. I beseech you by his many exertions, sacrifices, and
prayers for your good; by the piety and usefulness of his life;
by his meekness and comfort in sickness; and by the rest, which
we doubt not he now enjoys in God;— and I beseech you by
the meeting you must have with him before the tribunal of Christ
— by all these considerations, I earnestly beseech you, to re-
member the character of that godly man, to make a thankful and
pious use of his bounties, and diligently walk in his steps; — and
above all, to love and imitate his chosen Saviour, who was holy,
harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners.
S E R M 0 N
DELIVERED AT THE FUNERAL OF REV. SAMUEL SPRING, D. D., MARCII 9, 1819, IN
NEWBURYPORT.
1 Thess. 5: 13. — AND TO ESTEEM THEM VERY HIGIILY IN LovE FOR THEIR
WORK's SAKE.
THE Apostle Paul showed the highest respect for the ministers
of Christ, and inculcated it, as the duty of all Christians, highly
to esteem and love them. But he did not demand this peculiar
regard for Christian teachers, because they were men of distin-
guished gifts, nor even because they were good men; but for
their work’s sake. It was on account of the dignity and useful-
mess of their office.
I know not, my respected hearers, how I can more effectually
excite the reverence and love, which are due to that excellent
minister, whose death we deplore, and give a right direction to
the sorrow which fills your hearts, than by describing briefly the
wsefulness of that sacred office which he sustained. This is my
particular object. Accordingly, although I am called on this
occasion to honor the memory of one of the dearest friends that I
ever had on earth, I shall aim to excite no veneration or love for
him, except what is due on account of the holy office which he
filled, and the manner in which he performed its duties.
Turn your thoughts, then, to the usefulness of a faithful minis-
228 SERM O N ON THIE I) EATEI
ter of Christ. Consider him as a teacher of divine truth. This
is the most obvious and most important view of the Christian
minister's work. He publishes the word of God. He is the
grand medium of communicating to the world the knowledge of
the true religion. A sober examination of facts and of the
nature of the case will show, that there is no way of keeping up,
to any good purpose, the knowledge of divine truth in the World,
but by the labor of Christ's ministers. Now it is through divine
truth, that sinners are converted and saved. This is “the in-
corruptible seed,” of which they are “born again.” And it is
the work of the Christian minister to make known this divine
truth, to plant this incorruptible seed. And thus he becomes an
active instrument in the Salvation of sinners. And consider for
a moment the value of Salvation. Consider what it would be
for one of you to perish forever ! — for an immortal soul to
be perpetually under the dominion of the most malignant, tor-
menting passions ! What would it be for you, with all your
faculties and sensibilities awake, to see yourself abhorred of God;
to be cast away from his presence ; to know by your own
wretched experience, what is that indignation and wrath which
he will render to his enemies, and how unspeakably precious that
Salvation must be, which implies deliverance from this everlasting
misery !— Consider too what is the positive good implied in sal-
vation; what it is to be adorned with divine grace; to bear the
image of Christ; and after being made perfect in holiness, to
dwell where Jesus is, and be forever filled with all his fulness.
What would it be for you, a single child of Adam, to be de-
livered from all this misery, and raised to the enjoyment of all
this blessedness! And how great would be the usefulness of
the sacred office, if ministers should be successful in bringing all
this eternal blessedness upon you alone / But this good is to be
conferred upon thousands and millions. The kingdom of Christ
will contain a great multitude which no man can number, of those
who have been redeemed from among men. And the infinite
good enjoyed by this kingdom of grace, is effected chiefly through
the agency of ministers. Whatever is desirable and excellent
O F D R . SPIRIN G. 229
in the holiness of the Saints on earth or in heaven; whatever is
precious in their everlasting joys, is related to the holy office of
Christ's 1ministers, and is an illustration of its incomparable use-
fulness. e
Thus far I have considered the sacred office in one compre-
hensive view. I might descend to many particulars. For in
fact, Christians obey the divine precepts, grow in knowledge and
grace, find strength and support in their trials, are faithful and
useful, and become prepared for heaven, under the influence of
those divine truths which it is the business of the ministry to in-
culcate. And do not Christians, who are deprived of the ad-
vantages of ministerial labor, generally exhibit symptoms of a
dark, low, pining state 2
The scheme of truth contained in the Bible, makes known the
perfections of God and the principles of his government, vindi-
cates his character and administration from the reproaches of a
wicked world, illustrates his infinite grace in redemption, and
points to a future state of retribution, where his glory will shine
forth with ever-increasing splendor. Wherever this scheme of
divine truth is faithfully declared, the character of God is placed
in an honorable and glorious light. Where it is not declared,
the divine glory is obscured. The manner, therefore, in which
the character of God is likely to be regarded in the world, de-
pends very much upon the agency of Christian ministers.
Is it important that social and civil order should be supported ;
that sound morality should prevail; and that mankind, delivered
from violence and cruelty, should live in peace : Just so im-
portant is it, that the servants of Christ should faithfully preach
the truths of revelation. For it is by the influence of those
truths on the minds of men, that the violence of their passions is
restrained, and those moral principles established, which are the
basis of social and civil order. All that gives to Christian society
superiority over the society of pagans, is owing, under God, to
the influence of the teachers of religion. Only let the ambas-
sadors of Christ cease to preach the truths of religion, and what
would be the condition of the fairest part of the world one
WOL. W. 20
230 S EIR M O N O N T II E D E ATIH.
hundred years hence : What is the condition of those places in
our own country, where the labor of faithful ministers has ceased,
for half that period : What especially is the condition of those
countries, where the voice of Christ’s ministers has not been heard
for ages 7 It is moral desolation. And this desolation would
Soon appear even in this land of the Puritans, if the place of
Christian ministers, when removed by death, should not be sup-
plied by other laborers. The garden of the Lord would be over-
run with briars and thorns; its hedges would be broken down, and
the Wild beasts of the field would devour it.
I might expatiate upon the usefulness of a faithful minister of
Christ, in relation to the particular church and society committed
to his charge. It is by his plain and Solemn addresses to Chris-
tians, and the influence of his example and his prayers, that they
are excited to live unto God. It is by his wisdom, and fidelity,
and persevering vigilance, that the church is built up, and its
order and purity promoted. It is in a measure by his patient,
affectionate labors, that the young are restrained from folly and
vice, and trained up in the nurture and admonition of the Lord,
and thus prepared to be useful members of the community. His
friendship and pastoral visits are among the most precious bless-
ings to every family, especially in times of trouble. How sooth-
ing to the feelings of the afflicted is the presence of a minister,
who has a heart to weep with those who weep, and who knows
how to make their grief tributary to their spiritual good. Ask
the children of God, when they are sick and languishing, and find
the time of their departure drawing near, whether any earthly
good could be a compensation to them for the want of an affec-
tionate, heavenly-minded minister. When such a one comes to
their bed side, and With a sympathetic heart repeats to them the
sure promises of God, converses with them of the glories of Christ
and the joys of heaven, and unites with them in fervent prayer;
they forget their pains, and their hearts swell with unutterable joy
at the thought of being absent from the body and present with the
Lord.
And how is it with dying sinners, who have hitherto slighted
O F D R. SPRING . 231
the instructions and warnings of the gospel? They send a hasty
message for their minister. They long to hear his voice. For
worlds they would not forego his instructions and prayers.
It would be interesting to contemplate the sacred office in rela-
tion to the Sabbath. For it is perfectly apparent, that the utility
of that holy day depends essentially on Christian ministers. They
must teach how that Sacred rest is to be employed, so as to honor
God, and profit immortal Souls. Public worship, which is one of
the most important duties of the Sabbath, is then only what it
should be, when it is conducted by able ministers. The religious
instruction which is to be given is not likely to answer the purpose,
unless it comes from the ambassadors of Christ, whose work it is
to study the Scriptures, and to speak in the name of God. The
good which people derive from reading the Bible, depends much
upon the discipline of mind which they receive from the labors of
their spiritual guide. What is the Sabbath in those places where
the labors of ministers have long ceased ? Is it a day of spiritual
rest ? Or is it a day of idleness and dissipation?
But Christian ministers do not limit their useful labors to a
single church or society. They stand in relation to the glorious
Redeemer, and to his universal kingdom. They are his agents in
the great work of promoting the welfare of that kingdom. What
then is to be done for the kingdom of Christ : What are the
means to be used, for the advancement of his holy cause ? His
ministers must be the chief agents in this work. They must open
the book of prophecy, and proclaim the approach of the day,
when the knowledge of the Lord shall fill the earth. By their
moving addresses and their earnest cries to heaven, Christian
churches and nations must be awakened to action, and must
consecrate their wealth and their labors to the enlargement of
the Redeemer's kingdom. Revivals of religion must take place
throughout Christendom. Young men turned from their sins by
the power of the Holy Ghost, must in great numbers be trained
up for the service of the church. Those literary and religious
institutions which are already in operation must be raised to a
higher degree of prosperity; and many new ones must be added. ”
232 SERM O N ON THE DIEATH
The gospel must be proclaimed in pagan lands. Dumb idols must
be cast away, and temples of idol worship consecrated to Jehovah.
All nations must be given to Christ for an inheritance. In all
these movements of divine providence, the ministers of Christ
must have a principal agency. The Lord of the universe has
appointed them to this work, and has promised them strength to
accomplish it. Let them take their place thankfully, for it is a
place of high honor. Let them take their place humbly, for it is
a place of self-denying labor. Let them take their place with
resolution and patience; for it is a place of great difficulty and
suffering. Let them march forward with steady pace, their eyes
fixed on God, their hearts trusting in his strength, and panting
to see the day when his kingdom shall come, and his will be done
on earth as it is done in heaven.
Is it true that many, who do not bear the sacred office, are
great and successful instruments in advancing the cause of Christ?
These furnish no exception to the principle which I have assert-
ed; for they all act under the influence of those moving truths
which are inculcated from the pulpit. They have heard the reign
of Christ proclaimed. The preciousness of his cause, the wretch-
ed condition of a perishing World, the Worth of Salvation, the sure
promises of God in favor of Zion, and the abundant evidence
which the present day affords, that great things are soon to be
done for the Redeemer's kingdom, have been impressed indelibly
on their hearts by the ministry of reconciliation; and it is by
these considerations, that they are excited to be diligent in busi-
ness, fervent in spirit, and to abound in their labors and sacrifices
for the cause of Christ. 4.
From this brief illustration you perceive how important is the
office of Christian ministers, and in how interesting a relation that
office stands to all that is desirable and happy on earth. You
learn the importance of this office, from all that is excellent and
worthy of regard in those sacred truths which ministers explain
and inculcate. You learn it from the infinite value of that salva-
tion which is effected through their labors. When you look into
the region of darkness, and into the world of glory, you learn
OF D R. S. PIR IN G . 233
how to regard the work of those, who are God’s appointed instru-
ments in delivering his people from the miseries of the one, and
raising them to enjoy the blessedness of the other. You learn
the usefulness of their office, from the growing knowledge and
holiness of believers; their good works; their comfort in affliction;
their peace, and hope, and triumph on the bed of death. You
learn it from the Salutary influence of the Sabbath, and the bless-
ings of Social and civil order. You learn it from the rising pros-
perity of the church; from all the mighty operations which are
contributing to its increase; and from the glory with which it will
shine, when all the kingdoms of the world shall bow to the sceptre
of Jesus. You learn it, in a word, from all that alleviates the
miseries of earth, or sheds radiance upon its gloom; and from all
that lifts the eye of hope to mansions above the skies.
We are assembled brethren and friends to attend the funeral
services of a venerable father in the ministry. All who are in
any measure acquainted with the character of DOCTOR SPRING,
and consider the usefulness to which he attained, as a minister of
Christ, must respect his memory, and feel the sincerest sorrow at
his decease.
I shall not attempt to give a particular recital of the events of
his life, or a full description of his character. On his dying bed,
when he expressed his desire that I should perform this mournful
service, he left a special charge, that I should say but little re-
specting him.
For more than forty years, Doctor Spring was a minister of
the gospel in this place. They, who have had the privilege of
attending his ministry well know, with what ability and seriousness,
with what clear discrimination and fidelity he declared the counsel
of God. Few ministers have preached the word of God with great-
er simplicity and honesty, with greater freedom from that fear of
man which bringeth a Snare, or in a manner more instructive to the
understanding, more awakening to conscience, or more affecting
to the heart. The people of his charge will remember, and will
delight to testify, with what strength of reasoning he demonstrated
the great doctrines of religion, and with what earnestness and pun-
20*
234 SER. M. O N O N T II B D E A TEI
gency of address, he enforced the obligation of its holy, self-deny-
ing duties. They will remember also, in what manner he went in
and out before them, visited their families, conversed and prayed
with the sick and the dying, consoled the afflicted, instructed the
young, and labored for the order and purity of the church.
There is no blessing on earth, which a minister of Christ can
hold dearer, than the affectionate attachment and confidence of
his people. There is nothing, but the consideration of duty,
which can operate as a stronger excitement to diligence; and
nothing, but the presence and approbation of God, which can do
more to render his labors delightful. I say this with special em-
phasis, respecting the esteem and love of real Christians. What
are the best friendships, founded on mere natural affection, com-
pared with the pure, spiritual love of fervent Christians toward
a minister who has labored successfully for their salvation? Their
love to him becomes associated with all the precious, heavenly
truths which they have heard from his lips, and which the Spirit
of God has rendered effectual to their sanctification. It is asso-
ciated with the recollection of the solicitude he manifested for
them while they were impenitent, of his labors and prayers for
their conversion, and of the joy which swelled his heart, when
he perceived the indications of their repentance. It is associated
with the recollection of his watchful care over them, and his un-
ceasing efforts to excite them to walk as children of light. It is
associated finally, with the holy pleasures which he has helpéd
them to enjoy, and with the precious hope which he has so often
kindled in their breasts. So tender, so pure, and in its nature so
permanent, is the love of Christians to their spiritual father and
guide. Now in what way shall a minister secure this love and
confidence of Christians, and the general attachment of those
committed to his charge 2 The only way in which he ought to
seek it, and in which he has any prospect of obtaining it, is, by
being an affectionate, faithful, devoted minister of Christ; by
preaching the truth as it is in Jesus, with the spirit of Jesus;
thus commending himself to every man’s conscience in the sight
of God; by being willing to spend and be spent for the souls
O F D R. SPRIN G. 235
committed to his care; not seeking to please man, but God who
trieth the heart; and yet, in the right sense, becoming all things
to all men. Such, in a good measure, was the ministry of Doc-
tor Spring. He gave himself to his work. He turned not aside
to entangle himself with the affairs of the world. His conscience,
his judgment, and his heart held him back from pursuits foreign
to his office. It was in this way he gained the high place which
he possessed in the respect and love of his flock. And he often
lamented the mistake of ministers, who think they can obtain a
lasting reputation for usefulness in any other way.
Doctor Spring had uncommon strength and decision of char-
acter. He was never dishcartened by difficulties and never in-
timidated by dangers; and where duty was plain he was fearless
of opposition and reproach. However many or great his afflic-
tions, he was never overpowered. In pursuit of an object which
conscience approved, who ever surpassed him in perseverance 2
He had, in fact, many attributes as a man and as a Christian,
which qualified him for great undertakings. Accordingly, he did
not labor and pray and live, for the interests of religion, merely
in one particular place. He had too large a heart for this. In
all the great operations of the present day for the promotion of
the kingdom of Christ, he felt a lively interest; and in some of
them he had a principal agency.
In behalf of Greenville College, in Tennessee, he exerted his
influence with animating success. About the same time, the Mas-
sachusetts Missionary Society was formed. That useful Society
was indebted to him as much as to any man, for its existence
and prosperity.
But the highest objects which excited his affection, his zeal,
and his prayers, are yet to be mentioned. Several years before
anything was done in this quarter toward a Theological Insti-
tution it was with him a subject of deep thought and serious con-
versation. He regarded it as one of the most important branches
of Christian beneficence, to increase the number of well qualified
ninisters of the gospel. No man ever felt more deeply the im–
portance of a learned ministry, or pursued that object with a
236 S ER. M. O N O N T H E D E.A.T. H.
more steady purpose, or in a more disinterested manner. The
influence with which it pleased God to favor him, in turning the
attention of wealthy and benevolent individuals to such an object,
and in giving existence and form to our favored Seminary, I
shall not particularly mention; though the recollection of it is
inexpressibly interesting to my feelings. In all the measures,
which preceded the establishment of the united Institution, I
was intimately conversant with him; and I am a witness of the
invincible attachment to the cause of divine truth, which evidently
actuated him ; of the sleepless anxiety he showed, lest, in the
plan of the Seminary, the great ends of revelation should be
overlooked. It is with the most delightful sensations I now recol-
lect, how often, at that interesting period, I was invited, some-
times in the stillness of midnight, to kneel down with him, to
invoke the name of God, to render praise for his goodness, and to
ask his guidance and blessing. I am a witness of his laborious
and unceasing efforts in the cause of the Seminary from its com-
mencement till his last sickness; of the joy and gratitude and ten-
derness which he often expressed, that he had lived to realize
more than his highest hopes; and of the pious fervor with which
he waked up, almost from the slumbers of death, to give the
sacred Institution, and those connected with it, his dying bene-
diction.
Doctor Spring was a father to the Seminary. He watched
over its interests and prayed for its prosperity, with a father's
heart. His visits, his conversation, and his addresses to the mem-
bors of the Seminary, were expressions of paternal love. And
we had reason to thank him, not only for his incessant watchful-
mess, but even for his jealousy over us; because it was a godly
jealousy. The concern of an anxious father; – it was an appre-
hension, for which there was too much reason, that a spirit of
literary pride should insinuate itself into the Institution, and the
light of truth and holiness be obscured. But I cannot proceed.
Scenes rush upon my memory, which language cannot describe.
Thanks to God that such a man has been raised up to bless the
church; that he was continued so long, and enabled to do SQ
O F D R . S P R IN G. 237
much for the Institution. But the scene is closed. Our friend
sleepeth. On those occasions, when his visits have, for ten years,
uniformly cheered us, and his counsels quickened us to duty, we
shall see his face no more. Whenever those occasions return, we
shall remember afresh the kindness of his heart, the fidelity of his
counsels, and the usefulness of his labors for the Seminary.
Doctor Spring acted a most important part in originating the
Foreign Mission from America. The measures which led to the
organization of a public body for the promotion of that great
object, were first suggested by him. And in the whole manage-
ment of that benevolent and successful undertaking, he was among
those who were entrusted with the principal agency.
Whoever, therefore, reviews the public life of Doctor Spring
especially the last twenty years, must be satisfied, that few men
have done more than he for the cause of Christ.
Were I to speak of what was peculiar in his Christian charac-
ter, I should say he felt an uncommon loathing and dread of
whatever had the least appearance of enthusiasm or ostentation
in the concerns of religion. I should say too, that he had in an
unusual degree, the habit of insisting upon the distinction between
true and false religion and extraordinary caution in judging of
the evidence of regeneration in himself, and in others. He pro-
fessed to have only slender evidence of his own piety; and
frequently said, if he had any religion, he had it in a very low
degree. This may be thought a singular conclusion. But what
Christian or minister does not adopt a similar conclusion respect-
ing himself, who with equal honesty, Searches his own heart, and
with the same unsparing severity, tries his own motives and actions
by the standard of God’s word 7
Doctor Spring was, however, a man of remarkable cheerfulness
and equanimity. And though he had little enjoyment in view of
his own religious character, he had unfailing enjoyment in contem-
plating the perfection and government of God and the truths of
his word.
It would be a thing unheard of in this imperfect world, if any
human character, even one possessing the most attractive virtues,
238 SERM O N ON TEIE D E A TII
should have no imperfections. Doctor Spring was not without im-
perfections He had himself a deep conviction of them, and made
them the subject of daily confession before God. But he is gone, we
believe, beyond the region of imperfection and trial. And, brethren,
if our intercourse with him, while on earth, was so pleasant and
profitable ; Oh, what a privilege would it be, could we see and
converse with him now, when his character, distinguished even
here by such intellectual and moral excellences, has been freed
from every clog and blemish, and displays, without mixture, the
beauties of holiness.
The mourning widow and children are called to submit to no
ordinary affliction. They have frequently known the day of ad-
versity. But they have never before experienced the grief of
losing a friend so near and so useful. What can I do for their
comfort, but to remind them of those heavenly truths which he
preached, of that all-sufficient sº whom he so often recom-
mended to them, and whose infinite grace he always found a
refuge in trouble 7
What shall I say to this mourning church and society 2 Your
beloved minister was indeed spared to you many years; he lived to
a good old age. But he has finished his work and gone to receive
his reward. Look back, now, upon his ministry, ye who were
converted or edified by his labors. Remember the earnest exhor-
tations he gave you to watchfulness and self-denial, to persevering
diligence, fidelity and prayer. Remember what zeal he showed
that you might increase in the knowledge of God and abound in
good works. It is a privilege for which you ought to give thanks
to God, that you have had such a minister. But now, brethren,
as he is removed by death, you will be looking and praying for
some man of God to supply his place.— Great Shepherd of Is-
rael, be mear to this destitute, mourning flock; preserve them
from evil; keep them perfectly joined together in faith and love ;
and speedily provide for them a pastor after thine own heart.
Fathers and brethren in the ministry, see in that breathless body,
that silent tongue, and those eyes closed in death, to what we are
coming. It is all that remains of that minister, who was once so
O F D R . S P R IN G . 239
active, so useful and beloved. A few more Sabbaths, and it will
be all that will remain of us. Let us then be excited to finish our
work. If we love Christ and the souls of men, we are desirous
of doing good; and we have our plans of doing good. How
grievous would it be, should we be overtaken by death, before
our favorite plans are accomplished ' Let us them, as ministers
of Christ, lay out the business of life wisely, and execute it with
all diligence. And let us begin in season, to do our last works.
We may be looking for an opportunity in some distant period, to
perform those things which belong to the closing scene of life.
Dutlet us beware of trusting to this. A sudden removal, without
any premonition, may await us. Or if God shall kindly exempt
us from such a stroke, we may still lose the opportunity we are
expecting. When our health declines, our mental vigor may also
decline. He that has the strongest understanding, may then ex-
hibit the understanding of an infant, or no understanding at all.
The power of speech, the power of action, and the power of
thought may fail us; and all those things which we deferred to
the end of life, may be left undone forever. Let us then be doing
our last things. Let us be saying our last words to our partners
and our children. Let us be writing our last Sermons, and our
last letters. Let us be making our last addresses to our flocks.
Let us be performing our last acts of Christian friendship toward
our brethren in the ministry, and our last acts of benevolence for
the promotion of the cause of Christ. And when we go into our
closets, let us feel, as though we were about to search our hearts
and raise our cries to our God and Saviour for the last time before
the all-revealing day. Obrethren, if we might be duly affected
with such a sentiment as this, it would cure the vanity of our
minds; it would impress the character of seriousness and piety
upon our daily conduct, and would effectually constrain us to
preach and live as dying men.
Let us learn one more lesson. However beloved and venerated
the ministers of Christ may be —however elevated and useful their
station — they must die. What then is most important to a minis-
ter when he comes to the close of life 7 What is it but the man-
240 SERM O N O N THE DEATH
ner in which he has treated his Saviour and his own soul, and
discharged the duties of his holy office 2 If he can then say,
“I know in whom I have believed; I have fought a good fight,
I have finished my course, I have kept the faith; henceforth there
is laid up for me a crown of righteousness, which the Lord the
righteous Judge will give me at that day; ” — what more can he
desire 2
Finally, though under shepherds die, the great Shepherd lives.
He will take care of his sheep and his lambs; not one of them
shall perish. His cause is safe. And as an encouragement to
diligent exertion, let us consider what a train of good effects may
result from our labors. We have contemplated the distinguished
usefulness of that venerable minister, whose funeral solemnities
we are now attending. But we shall find, that the highest in-
stances of his usefulness were consequent upon a few efforts of
enlightened piety, which we might have thought of inconsiderable
moment. Those few efforts have, through divine favor, had a
leading influence to set in motion engines of good, whose operation
already begins to be felt in various parts of the Christian and
pagan world, and whose blessed effects, uniting with the effects
of other plans of benevolence, will we doubt not, constantly spread
to a wider and wider extent, and reach to the end of time, and to
everlasting ages. Brethren, we live in a period highly favorable
to the accomplishment of great designs. Let us be meditating
good for Zion, and striving in one way and another, to promote its
prosperity. Who can tell what holy enterprises, what useful in-
stitutions, and what enlargement to Christ's kingdom, may spring
from our feeble efforts : Our seasons of meditation and prayer,
our studies, our consultations, and our correspondence, may,
through the blessing of God, give rise to a good, which eternity
only can measure. Let us then be up and doing. And when God
summons faithful ministers to leave their place here, and engage
in the work of heaven, let us still trust in him and take courage.
He is the Lord of the harvest, and will send forth other laborers.
He will not leave his cause without advocates, nor his churches
without pastors, nor the heathen World without missionaries.
O F D R . S P R IN G . 24I.
After we are laid in our graves other ministers will rise up better
than we ; for a better day is at hand. The churches will shine
with brighter lustre. A purer spirit will pervade the ministry; a
spirit of deeper humility, of more fervent love, and more perfect
harmony, a spirit of greater wisdom and zeal, a spirit of higher
effort and more exalted piety. Great will be the company of
those who will publish the word of the Lord, and great the success
which will crown their labors. The fervent prayers offered up by
our lamented father, and by the thousands now with him in glory,
and the prayers of thousands on earth now panting for the con
version of the world, will be answered, in the universal reign of
the Prince of Peace.
WOL. W.
A S E R M 0 N
OCCASIONED BY THE DEATH OF THE REV. SAMUEL WORCESTER, D. D., SECRETARY
OF THE AM. BOARD OF COMMISSIONERS FOR FOREIGN MISSIONS: DELIVERED
IN THE TABERNACLE CIIURCII, SALEM, JULY 12, 1821.
I Sam, 25: 1. — AND SAMUEL DIED; AND ALL TITE ISRAELITES LAMENTED HIM.
WHENEVER a good man dies, the world sustains a loss. But
among good men, there is an obvious ground of distinction. God
has constituted his moral kingdom, as he has the natural body.
Though there is but one body, there are many members. And
though the members are all necessary; some hold a place of
higher importance than others, and the loss of them is more Se-
verely felt. When the Apostle touches upon this distinction
among Christians, he does it for the purpose of stigmatizing a
spirit of emulation and envy, and of promoting mutual love and
sympathy, and a paramount regard to the good of the Whole.
And why should the difference, which God has made among the
members of his spiritual empire, ever excite any other feelings,
than these ? For what is the difference, but a difference in the
degree of usefulness 2 That man is marked with the highest
distinction, who does the most good. True greatness is combined
with the best interest of the world. And if we love the best
interest of the world, we shall love the man who promotes it ;
SERM ON ON THE DEAT II OF D R. W. OR C E STER. 243
and we shall love him most, who promotes it in the highest
degree. In the contemplation of the great object which benev-
olence seeks, we are raised above self-interest. We forget our
individual importance; we forget all personal distinctions. Let
the highest degree of good be accomplished, whether by us or by
others as instruments, and we have our desire. Mere intellectual
greatness, or Worldly greatness is indeed an object, to which ambi-
tion looks up with impatient aspirations. But what is it in the
sight of God, or in the sight of good men : It is the greatness
of Christian benevolence, that we admire; it is the greatness, not
of the man who has superior endowments, but of the man, whose
superior cndowments are devoted to the cause of Christ; the
greatness of the man, who, feeling that he is not his own, presents
himself a living sacrifice to God, and exists only for the welfare of
his kingdom. This is the greatness that disarms hostility, that
puts envy to shame, that attracts universal love, and that does
not moulder in the grave.
I propose on this occasion, to inquire briefly, by what causes and
in what manner the character of true greatness is formed.
Here I begin by ascribing to God all that constitutes excel-
lence of character — all that fits men for distinguished usefulness.
In God’s hand it is to make great. He creates and sustains the
immortal mind with all its powers. He creates and sustains the
body, with all its vigor and activity. And it is by his Spirit
that a man is new-created — “created in Christ Jesus unto good
works.” Everything which gives improvement to the under-
standing or the heart, is from God. Let it be that the powers
of the mind are cultivated and strengthened by the use of various
natural means. Who appointed those means but God 7 And
who but God gives a heart to use them, and makes that use
successful ? Be it so that Christians are sanctified through the
truth. It is God that sanctifies them in this very way. The
truth is his instrument; and from him comes all its efficacy.
When therefore you fix your eye upon a Christian, who exhibits
the character of distinguished greatness; you see the workman-
Ship of God—the expression of his power and his goodness.
244 S ER. M. O N O N TEI E D E AT II
The Christian is what he is, by the grace of God. To God then
be all the glory of those faculties, which distinguish men from the
beasts of the field ; of that holiness, which distinguishes Christians
from the ungodly; and of every degree of piety and usefulness,
which raises one Christian above another.
I shall now endeavor to show in what way a Christian, possess-
ing the requisite natural endowments, and enjoying the guidance
and blessing of God acquires the character of true greatness.
In the first place, he directs the powers of his mind to the most
eaccellent and worthy object — the Salvation of men — the good of
Christ's kingdom.. If a man turns his thoughts and labors to the
good of his country, his heart grows patriotic and noble. ISut if
he exercises his thoughts and affections upon Christ and his king-
dom, the effect on his character will be as much higher, as the
glory of Christ and the value of his kingdom are more excellent,
than any earthly object. The heart becomes assimilated to the
object of its attachment. He that contemplates and loves the
character of Christ, is by degrees changed into the same image.
He that employs himself in so great a work as building up the
kingdom of Christ, will be constantly ennobled by the nature of
his employment. He will derive a greatness from the greatness
of the work in which he is occupied.
But the Christian, who acquires the character of greatness, con-
templates the glory of Christ, and pursues the welfare of his
kingdom with intense affection. And it is very much in proportion
to the frequency and strength of his benevolent and pious efforts,
that he experiences a salutary influence upon his own mind. When
a man comes to such a state, that the glory of the Redeemer and
the precious interests of his church are the objects of his contempla-
tion from day to day; when they occur spontaneously; when
other things, which formerly had a place in his mind, in a great
measure retire; when these divine objects get so strong a hold of
his thoughts, that no pleasures, no cares or sufferings can exclude
them ; in short, when his attachment to the cause of Christ
becomes his ruling passion; then he experiences a rapid growth in
everything excellent and praise-worthy. Whatever is earthly in
G F D R. WOR (; ESTER. 245
his nature dies away. His thoughts and affections range in a
higher and brighter region. He acquires moral purity, enkarge-
ment and strength, and advances rapidly towards the elevated
character of just men made perfect.
My brethren, do any of you aim at eminence in Christian piety
and usefulness : See here what course you must pursue. And
see here the course actually pursued by that distinguished servant
of Christ, who has recently been taken from us. Beloved man
Wherever his name is known, not only among those who were
personally attached to him, but through the Christian world, it is
associated with all that is precious in the cause of the Redeemer.
Our departed brother was, in the best sense, a man of distin-
guished eveellence. He possessed eminent qualifications, and
attained to eminent usefulness. The qualities of his understand-
ing and heart were such, as would have rendered him beloved and
useful in any condition. Had he lived in the most retired village;
the inhabitants would have been enlightened by his wisdom, and
benefited by his pious example and benevolent services. Had he
lived in days of persecution, and had the power of his enemies
immured him in a prison ; he possessed excellences of character,
which would have been manifested even there. Iſis meekness
and self-government would have checked the impatience of his
fellow sufferers; his affectionate counsels would have enlightened
and comforted them; and the ardor of his prayers and praises
would have taught them the happiness of devotion.
But his peculiar greatness arose very much from the circum-
stances in which he was placed and the relations which he sustained.
It is indeed very obvious, that he had an original structure of
mind, exactly suited to the work which God designed for him.
Still it was his situation—it was his being actually called to his
work, and successfully engaged in accomplishing it, which made
known the value of his talents, and led to their highest improve-
ment. In a very important sense, a man is made by circum-
stances. The time when he lives; the particular place where he
acts; the dispositions and pursuits of those with whom he is most
nearly connected; the nature of the duties allotted to him, and
21*
246 S E R M O N ON TEII; D EAT II
the degree cf success by which his labors are animated, all
conspire to impart to his character the qualities which it finally
exhibits.
I have no doubt that a skilful biographer, well acquainted with
the early life of Doctor Worcester, could fix upon a variety of
incidents, which tended at once to unfold the peculiar properties
of his mind, and to produce those habits of thought and action,
which afterwards became chief ingredients in his character, God
knows for what service he designs every man; and he frequently
gives such a direction to the events of childhood and youth, that
those peculiar properties of mind, which will be of the highest use
in after-life, shall be early exercised and strengthened; and while
the man himself and those around him know nothing of the matter,
God is preparing him for his work; and preparing him by means,
which will afterwards be seen to have been exactly suited to the
end, and so will be a subject of grateful acknowledgment and
admiration.
IBut my remarks can extend no further, than to the commence-
ment of his public life.
He was first called to discharge the duties of a Christian minis-
ter in a situation attended with peculiar trials. And those trials
were important means of qualifying him for the work which divine
providence allotted to him. No man ever acquires strength and
decision of character, without contending with difficulties. If all
is smooth and prosperous, the mind contracts inactivity and soft-
mess. But the fréquent occurrence of straits and sufferings raises
a mind, happily constituted, to a high tone of resolution, and pre-
pares it for firm and energetic action.
Our brother before his removal from his first charge, gave evi-
dence of uncommon discretion and forethought ; of patience and
self-control; of great strength of understanding and integrity of
heart, and a steady attachment to the interests of the church.
In the year 1803, he entered on the duties of the ministry in
this place. The station was highly important; and it involved
duties, which no man of Ordinary qualifications would have been
competent to discharge. Here he labored with wisdom and zeal
O F D R. . W O R C E S T E R . 247
with firmness and perseverance. He kept his eye upon the spir-
itual interests of the church. A revival of religion, which he was
permitted more than once to witness as the fruit of his labors, he
regarded as the most desirable of all events. As a preacher, he
exhibited soundness of faith, manly strength of intellect, a culti-
vated taste, and a warm heart. His preaching was always serious,
affectionate, and instructive, and frequently impressive. His
church and people knew — every parent and every child knew,
that he loved their Souls, and sought their everlasting welfare. In
all cases of difficulty, which occurred in the church or congrega-
tion, he was a most judicious counsellor; in affliction, a friend, a
father, a comforter. He magnified his office. It is a rare thing
that a minister enjoys, in an equal degree with him, the affection
and esteem of his people. And I wish I were not obliged to say,
that it is a rare thing for a minister, in an equal degree, to love
the sacred office. There was nothing more distinctly marked in
his character, than the strong, permanent affection which united
him to the pastoral work. He cleaved to it, as to his life. With
this close adherence of his affections to the holy office, he could
not but become more and more assimilated to the objects, with
which that office made him conversant. The regular performance
of its duties, prompted by his heart as well as his conscience,
imparted an increasing purity and elevation to his character. If
I mistake not, it was evident to his friends generally, that he
became more and more a consecrated man. This, I am aware, is
to be ascribed to the effectual operation of God. But God ope-
rates through means. And I cannot but think, that one of the
principal means of his spiritual improvement was, the diligence,
the affection, and the pleasure, with which he discharged the
duties of the ministry. His employments as a minister, animated
by the true spirit of his office, contributed directly and powerfully,
to advance him in the exercise of every virtue, and to give him
the visible impress of Christian sanctity.
but Dr. Worcester's usefulness extended beyond his particular
charge. His reputation for practical wisdom, and for an acquaint-
ance with the principles and forms of ecclesiastical proceedings in
248 S E R M O N O N T H E D E A TEI
New England, occasioned frequent applications to him for counsel
and assistance. And the public sentiment respecting him was
finally such, that scarcely an instance occurred of great difficulty
in our churches, where his advice was not sought. The collected
thought, the foresight, the decision, which he exhibited in the
business of ecclesiastical councils, gave him great influence with
those who agreed with him in principle, while they secured to him
the honest respect of his opposers. But by nothing did he more
distinguish himself in such concerns, than by his sincere love of
peace, and his success in reconciling contending parties.
The frequent agency he had in the transaction of ecclesiastical
business brought him into a closer connection with the ministers
and churches of Christ, made him more familiarly acquainted with
their circumstances, and gave him a more lively interest in their
welfare, and at the same time it gained for him, in a higher and
higher degree, the public confidence, and prepared the way for
him to enter, with brighter prospects, into a more extensive sphere
of public duty.
Dr. Worcester's feelings were averse to religious controversy;
though the peculiar structure of his mind, and his habit of close,
patient thinking qualified him to be a distinguished controversial
writer. I shall only say on this occasion, that those who receive
the common doctrines of Orthodoxy, must consider it as a special
favor of heaven, that they have, I will not say the opinions, but
the arguments of Dr. Worcester on the grand controversy of the
present day.
But I have not yet mentioned what chiefly accounts for the ele-
vation of our dear brother's character, or chiefly constituted the
usefulness of his life. I refer to his connection with the Mission-
ary cause; first, with the Massachusetts Missionary Society, of
which he was many years Secretary, and afterwards President;
and then with our Foreign Missions. I say not that there is any
office on earth, more exalted and holy, than the Christian minis-
try, or any object more important than that which the ministry is
designed to promote. The fact is, the missionary cause is the
same as that, which every minister labors to advance. It is the
O F D R . W O R C E S T E R . 249
same cause, taken in a more extended Sense. It is the cause of
benevolence — the cause of Christ, in relation to the whole
unevangelized world. And the office which our departed brother
filled, in connection with the missionary cause, was the office of a
Christian minister, in its largest Sense. As to the extent of its
design, it resembles the office of the apostles, who were commis-
sioned to “go into all the world, and preach the gospel to every
creature.” Now if I would show you exactly what Dr. Wor-
cester was ; if I would fix your eye upon the highest distinction
which marked his character; I must present him before you, as
Corresponding Secretary of the American Board of Commis-
sioners for Foreign Missions. It was for this office he was
designated in the purpose of God. It was for this office, so
important and arduous, that all his previous labors and trials con-
tributed to prepare him. It was in this office, that his peculiar
talents found room for their most appropriate exercise. Here he
was in his proper place. And here, through the mercy of God,
his character acquired its brightest lustre.
Can it be necessary for me, in this age of Christian knowledge
and Christian effort, to produce arguments to prove the importance
and excellence of the missionary cause 7 Are there any among
us, who will award to our departed brother the honor of sincere
and pious endeavors, and yet doubt the soundness of his judgment
in directing them to the accomplishment of such an object? Are
there any, who can witness the zeal, the liberality, the sacrifices and
prayers, which are employed for the promotion of the missionary
cause, and Say, that they are all employed in a useless or doubtful
enterprise — that the cause they are designed to promote is not
worthy of such exertions — and that the man who devotes his life
to that cause, though he may deserve our candor for his honesty,
and our respect for his talents, and our love for the goodness of
his heart, must have our compassion for his weakness : Gladly
would I remove the doubts and misapprehensions of any who view
the cause of missions in such a light. And gladly would I excite
the active zeal of those who have better views.
Will you then estimate the importance of the missionary cause
250 . S E R Mº () N O N T III; D E A TEI
from its design & What is that design, but the Salvation of sinners
perishing in the darkness of paganism 2 Now are not the Souls
of men in heathem lands immortal as well as ow's 3 And is not
their immortality stamped with as great worth, as ours ? If then
we deem it important that our Souls should be saved, and our
immortal existence be made happy; it is equally important that
those who are in pagan countries, should obtain the same bless-
ings. Has not all Christendom pronounced that to be an excellent
precept, which requires us to love our neighbors as ourselves 3
And can any one, who is guided by this rule, and who has any
proper regard to his own eternal happiness, think lightly of the
eternal happiness of his fellow-creatures 7 But if the salvation of
the heathem is so important ; no man can question the importance
of those efforts, which are directed to the single purpose of fur-
nishing them with the means of Salvation, and of making them
heirs of all its blessings. If, indeed, the human race were in such
a moral condition, as the lax theology of the day represents; if
men had no depravity to be subdued by the power of the Holy
Spirit; if they had no sins to be pardoned and no pollution to be
washed away by atoming blood ; and if those, who have never
known the name of Jesus, had as good a prospect of heaven, as
any in Christian lands; we might quiet all our anxieties respecting
the heathen, and indulge feelings of sincere benevolence towards
them, without any efforts for their conversion. And I am very
willing to concede, that for those, who deny what we believe to be
the doctrines of revelation in regard to the character and pros-
pects of man, it is every way consistent to think the missionary
cause of no value, and to look with indifference on all that is done
to convert the heathen world. But if all men are “by nature
children of Wrath; ” and if there is no other name under heaven
whereby they can be saved, but the name of Jesus; and if the
preaching of the gospel is the appointed means of bringing men to
enjoy that Salvation; then it is utterly impossible to separate the
exercise of benevolence from the cause of missions; and no friend
of man can be content, without making every possible exertion to
send the gospel to all nations. Did the Son of God deem it.
OF D R. W. O R C E STER. * 251
necessary to come down from heaven, and suffer and die, to pro-
cure salvation for sinners 7 And can we deem it of no conse-
quence that they should be made acquainted with that Salvation ?
If Christianity is of any value to us, it is certainly of as great
value to the heathem. Was not the Christian religion a blessing
to those who were converted by the labors of the apostles 7 Was
it not a blessing to our forefathers in Europe, who were turned
from the basest idolatry, and made members of Christ's kingdom ?
Think of the difference between us, and the people of those
countries where pagan ignorance prevails. To what is all this
difference owing, but to the Christian religion ? And must not
those labors be important, which are one day to secure to idola-
trous nations all that is precious in our holy religion, and to render
them as enlightened, as pious, as happy, as the best Christians
here 7 Just imagine all the millions of Asia, Africa and Amer-
ica, who are now in a state of heathenism, formed into Christian
churches, engaged publicly and privately in Worshipping God,
observing all the commands and ordinances of the gospel, and
living as examples of righteousness and peace. See parents,
Once bowing down to dumb idols, and practising the most degrad-
ing vices, now walking before their households in uprightness of
heart, and bringing up their children in the nurture and admoni-
tion of the Lord. See children listening to the voice of Christian
instruction. See angels rejoicing over sinners brought to repent-
ance. See believers abounding in good works; in affliction, sub-
mitting to God; in death, rejoicing in hope of eternal glory.
Would not such a state be infinitely better, than their present
state of stupid idolatry, and of brutal ignorance and wretched-
mess : The friends of the missionary cause are attempting to
accomplish all this ; and to accomplish it, not for one generation,
but for all generations, to the end of time. Where is the man,
that can question the excellence of this attempt 7 And who, that
loves his fellow-creatures, can refrain from rejoicing in the most
distant hope, that the attempt will be successful ? And are we
forbidden to indulge this hope 7 Is the conversion of the heathen
world impracticable 7 Has not God power enough and benevo-
252 SERM ON ON THE DEATH
lence enough to convert them 2 Are not the provisions of the
gospel sufficiently large and abundant : Is not the way that is
opened to heaven sufficiently broad 7 Have not many actually
been converted, who were once as far from righteousness as they 7
We indeed believe that the heathem are much more depraved and
degraded, and much more disinclined to embrace the gospel, than
the opposers of missions believe them to be. We see more and
mightier obstacles, than they do, to the success of the missionary
cause. But we find no reason for despair. Were the difficulties
in the way of Christianizing the heathen far greater than they
are ; we should still have confident hopes of success; hopes rest-
ing, not on the natural tendencies of the heart, nor on the efficacy
of human persuasion to counteract those tendencies; but on the
promise of God, and on that divine grace which superabounds
where sin hath abounded. The conversion of the world, though
impossible for man, is an easy work for God. It required as great
an effort of divine power and divine love to save any of us, as it
would require to Save stupid idolaters. And as God is the com—
mon Father of men, and is no respecter of persons; why should
we suppose he will confine his special favors to a small portion of
our race : Why should we form such an opinion of that Being
who made the World, and whose tender mercies are over all his
works, as to think, that he is not as willing to exert his power in
behalf of the heathem, as in our behalf; or that he will not be as
ready to prosper our endeavors to convert sinners in heathen
lands, as in our own country :
But it is unnecessary for me to dwell on this subject. For it
seems impossible, that any man who regards the Christian religion
as a blessing, should not desire its universal diffusion, or that he
should not rejoice in the exertions now made to bring the whole
world under its influence. Objections against the missionary
cause are consistent enough from the mouths of infidels. But for
Christians to make them, is a shocking absurdity.
Here then we have a cause of the highest conceivable moment.
Other enterprises for the welfare of man are benevolent and use-
ful. But the missionary cause is Superior to all others. It is
O F D R, . W O R. C E S T E R . 253
more benevolent, more exalted, more glorious. It aims at nothing
less, than to communicate the blessings of the everlasting gospel
through the whole extent of the earth’s population. And notwith-
standing all the difficulties which stand in its way, and which are
so apt to discourage our faint hearts, it has a certain prospect of
success. The undertaking, in which the friends of missions are
now engaged, is one upon which future generations will look back,
as we do upon the labors of the apostles and succeeding missiona-
ries, in Christianizing particular parts of the world. They will
look back, and bless God, that he put it into the hearts of his peo
ple at this day, to begin this work of love; and they will bless
God for its accomplishment. And when converted myriads shall
call to mind the commencement of those efforts, which brought
them to the knowledge of the truth, they will remember our
lamented Worcester, and will associate his name with what was
done for their salvation. In the history of the church, Christians
will, from generation to generation, read the history of our hom-
ored Secretary, and will form a juster estimate, than we can, of the
importance of the office which he filled, and of the cause which he
promoted.
My hearers will not, I hope, charge me with a needless digres-
sion in what I have said, when they consider that the character
of Dr. Worcester was identified with the missionary cause. If
the missionary cause is insignificant ; SO must we consider the
man who made an offering of himself for its advancement. But
if that cause is great and excellent — if it is, in truth, the cause
of human salvation, the cause of infinite love; then the character
of the man, who had so distinguished an influence in promoting it,
must have a corresponding greatness and excellence.
In every office which our Corresponding Secretary previously
sustained, he so united talent and fidelity, as to gain an honorable
place in the public esteem. But in this last office, he appeared
before the world with a character of more finished excellence.
Here all his talents and acquisitions, as a scholar and a minister,
and all his virtues as a Christian, combined their influence to pro-
duce one grand result. And when we look at his agency in this
WOL. V. 22
254 S E R M ON O N T H E D EATEI
great concern, we see what God intended by the peculiarities of
his character. In this his peculiarities were all turned to account.
They conspired with the other attributes of his mind to produce in
him such a remarkable fitness for his work, that no one could
doubt for what God designed him. Our beloved Secretary was
as manifestly in his proper place in the kingdom of Christ, as
the hand or the head is in its proper place in the natural body,
In the station which he finally held, he exhibited a greater sym-
metry and a stronger expressiveness of character, than ever
before. And now, you might as well think of doing justice to
the character of Paul, without exhibiting him as the Apostle to
the Gentiles, as to the character of Dr. Worcester, without ex-
hibiting him in this highest and most arduous sphere of his la-
bors.
Learn the manner in which he filled this office, from facts.
Learn it from those Reports of the Board which he wrote, es–
pecially the two last. Learn it from his correspondence with
the missionaries, should that interesting correspondence ever be
made public. Learn it from the character of our missionary
establishments in different parts of the world. I think it impos-
sible that any competent judge should not perceive the superior
wisdom which these establishments display. They are all adapted
to permanent operation, and to permanent and increasing suc-
cess. They are conducted So manifestly according to the dictates
of sober, Christian judgment, that they have already done much
towards silencing the objections of opposers, and will, I am con-
fident, Soon unite all candid, pious men in the cause of missions.
Learn too the manner in which our brother filled his office, from
the influence he had with the community, and the success which
uniformly attended his earnest appeals to them, in behalf of the
funds of the Board. The American people are a discerning people,
and when possessed of sufficient evidence, are not prone to judge
incorrectly. They would not invest a man with the highest de-
gree of influence, unless his conduct entitled him to confidence.
Had there been any material defect in the qualifications of our
Secretary, or had there been anything exceptionable or suspicious
O F D R, . W OR, C E S T E R . 255
in his public or private conduct; the treatment he would have
had from the community would have been very different from
what it was. The various plans of missionary operation, adopted
by the Prudential Committee, have repeatedly involved the Board
in expenses, far beyond their resources. Had the good people
of our country suspected any want of wisdom in those expensive
plans, or in him who had a principal agency in concerting them ;
they would not, at his solicitation, have so promptly increased
their contributions, and so generously relieved the embarrassments
of the Board.
The evidences of the distinguished character of our Secretary,
which I have now suggested, are before the public. But there
are other evidences, which have necessarily been concealed from
the public eye; I mean the steady, long-continued intenseness
of his mental labors in private, and the part sustained by him
in the deliberations of the Prudential Committee. Could the
friends of our Foreign Missions have seen him in those delibera-
tions, and those intense labors of mind, they would have seen
him in his strength ; and would have learned something of the
secret spring of those systematic movements, by which the Ameri-
can Board and American Christians have been aiming to enlighten
and save the heathem.
It was one of the peculiar excellences of Dr. Worcester, that
he had the habit of investigating a subject more patiently and
thoroughly, and, in difficult cases, of suspending his judgment
longer, than most other men. His mind was not indeed dis-
tinguished for that rapidity of thought, which might have helped
him to decide and act with promptness as well as propriety,
in ordinary concerns, but which, in business of great weight
and difficulty, might have proved an essential disqualification.
He had the superior advantage of that slower and more
exact movement of thought, of that longer reach of intellect,
and that more particular and more consummate deliberation,
which qualified him to look through all the relations of a compli-
cated subject; to foresee the distant results of the measures
under consideration; to foresee dangers, and by seasonable pre-
256 SER M ON O N THE DEATH
caution to avoid them ; and to carry forward a systematic plan,
involving interests of the greatest conceivable moment, to a
gradual, but sure accomplishment. In these vast concerns he
had nothing that savored of presumption ; nothing precipitate ;
nothing showy, visionary, or extravagant ; and nothing of tran–
sient utility. He took time to form his judgment; but when
formed, it seldom needed reconsideration. I might say of him,
and of the other principal agent of the American Board, what
could be said of few men living, that such was the fairness and
thoroughness of their investigations, and the judiciousness of
their decisions, that it was scarcely necessary to inquire into the
expediency or feasibility of any measure, which they deliberately
recommended. .
It must be considered as a special token of divine favor, that
a man of such a character was raised up at a time, when exer-
tions so extensive and so difficult were to be made, and that he
was permitted to devote himself so long to the concerns of our
Foreign missions. Gladly would I increase the public esteem
and affection which generally fall to the lot of men, who become
public agents in business So weighty and complicated. The
cares, and labors, and anxieties, to which they are incessantly
exposed, would, if fully known, excite more general sympathy.
It was one of the most valuable qualifications of Dr. Worces-
ter, that difficulties and dangers, however various and unexpected,
never disconcerted him. He could meet with many a discom-
fiture, without being either subdued or discouraged. In those
emergencies, which agitate and overwhelm men of ordinary
minds, he collected new strength and rose to higher anima-
tion and to mightier efforts. In many cases which occurred in
the prosecution of his business, he could see no present means
of relief. Difficulties multiplied, and put on an appalling aspect.
But in him, there was no sinking, no trembling. The ultimate
success of the undertaking was inseparably connected in his mind,
with the almighty agency and faithfulness of God. He had con-
ſidence that great things would be done. At times his way was
hedged up with difficulties. But he had no doubt the difficulties
O F D R, . W O R. C. EST ER. . 257
would be cleared away. Now it was a night of thick darkness.
But he expected the morning would come with its cheering
light. In the greatest straits, he was so entirely a stranger to
that despondency which enervates the mind, that he was all the
while spontaneously preparing himself for more powerful action.
When others were disheartened, then was the time for him to
go forward. Under every pressure, he acquired more intense
ardor of feeling in favor of his object, and became more fruitful
in arguments to prove its excellence, and in expedients to secure
its accomplishment. •
I shall mention one more property which belonged to our
departed brother; namely, that in regard to the various objects
of Christian benevolence, his mind was well balanced and his
zeal well proportioned. I do not mean, that he gave such a
portion of his own thoughts and labors to each object, as agreed
exactly with its comparative importance. No intelligent being,
who is not infinite, can do this. But I mean, that his judgment
was not so biassed by the business which engrossed his attention,
that he overlooked the importance of what other good men were
striving to accomplish. He guarded in a good measure against
the fault, to which every man in a public station is liable, namely,
that of looking so earnestly at his own particular object, as to
lose sight of others. Although he was occupied constantly with
the labors of an office so public in its nature, and so extensive in
its design; he never ceased to feel the importance or to love the
duties of the pastoral office. Nor did his zeal for Foreign mis-
sions prevent his feeling a deep interest in missionary efforts for
the benefit of our own country, or in any other works of Christian
charity. It was obvious to him, and it was a sentiment which he
took pleasure in cherishing and expressing, that the various ob-
jects, which Christians are now laboring to accomplish, are in the
most important respects one, and are all entitled to a far more
liberal and efficient patronage, than they have ever yet received."
I have now portrayed the leading features of Dr. Worcester's
public character. I have represented him as a man of distin-
guished eminence in the church. But in what did his emi-
22* wº
258 S EIR, M O N O N T H E D E A TH
nence mainly consist : He had nothing of that brilliancy of genius
or eloquence, and nothing of that enchanting popularity of man-
mers, which gains admiration and applause from the multitude.
He indeed had a powerful and well cultivated mind, and a taste
of no ordinary refinement. But his eminence chiefly consisted in
his rightly filling an office of vast and eternal consequence — an
office involving labors, burdens and anxieties, which are insup-
portable to mere human strength. It consisted in his pursuing
the business of that office with intensity of thought; with sim-
plicity of aim ; with inextinguishable zeal, and with the persever-
ance and activity of a man, who knows the greatness and good-
ness of his undertaking, and who, relying not on the resources of
his own mind, but on the help of God, and on the uncontrollable
movements of his providence, resolves on its execution. It con-
sisted, in short, in his consecrating himself and all that he had
to a cause superlatively excellent, and in his studying and labor-
ing earnestly for its advancement.
But we must come to the closing Scene of a life, which was
so full of great and useful actions. Unremitted labor had cre-
ated or increased various bodily infirmities. Those infirmities
had for some time been assuming a more and more alarming
aspect. The consent of our brother to visit the establishments at
Drainerd and Elliot was in part produced by his solicitude for
the missionary cause in those places, and in part by a desire to
repair that constitution, which his long-continued labors had al-
most undermined. It may seem full of mystery, that he should
be removed far away from his family and friends to die in the
wilderness. What could have appeared more desirable to us,
than that, in his last sickness, his pains should be alleviated and
his heart comforted, by the tender assiduities of his own beloved
family. And what could have appeared to be more desirable,
or to promise more good to the missionary cause, than for his
fellow-laborers to have Some seasons for free consultation with
him in his last days, and to be made acquainted with the views
and emotions, which must have been produced in a mind so
mature and elevated as his, by the visible approach of death.
OF D R. W. O.R. C. ESTER. 259
But it was the appointment of God that he should go far hence,
to sicken and die. The pains he took to learn the will of God
respecting his absence, and the considerations which finally con-
vinced his hesitating judgment of the expediency of the voyage,
stated particularly in a letter to the Treasurer, must have given
entire Satisfaction to the public. So must his subsequent reflec-
tions, as exhibited in the same letter. —“It has been,” he says,
“no slight Satisfaction to my mind, that I came hither in obe-
dience to God's direction, and not, as I would humbly trust,
without some degree of filial submission, and confidence, and
hope. What the end is to be, is not yet to be read. It may
be the final exit from all earthly scenes, and the dropping of this
slender tabernacle, though far away from its kindred dust, yet in
the place, whether in the sea, or upon the land, appointed by
sovereign goodness for its rest till the rising day. —It may be
the accomplishment of something for life and immortality to the
wanderers of the wilderness, or dwellers in the dark places of
the earth, by an instrumentality so feeble, as to make it manifest
— that the excellency of the power must have been of God.”
“At the age of fifty, with a family requiring a father's as well
as a mother’s care — a people holding his heart with a thousand
ties—a study, his loved retreat, “Fast by the Oracles of God’—
responsibilities the most weighty, and objects of attention and
action for which only he would live and labor — one could not
leave home for an absence so long and with prospects so preca-
rious, without many reluctances and regrets, and thoughts of
serious import, and movements of the inmost heart.”—“But
what is time, or place, or outward condition ? — God is at all times,
and in all places the same ; and to feel that we are in him and
he in us, is enough for happiness. To feel that we are where he
would have us be, and doing what he would have us do, is all that
for ourselves we should desire.”
In the following quotation from the same letter, he expresses
his mature, unwavering judgment as to the cause of missions. –
“One thing is settled in my mind; and that is a full and delight-
ful conviction, that the cause of missions has never held too high
260. SERM ON O N T H E D E A TH
a place in my estimation, or engaged too large a share of my
attention. — It immeasurably transcends the highest estimation of
every created mind. And what is the sacrifice of health, what
the sacrifice of life, to such a cause Be the event what it may
— recovered health, or early death — I never can regret what I
have done in this work; but only that I have done so little, and
with a heart so torpid.”
It would be highly interesting to trace the progress of our
beloved brother, amid weariness, infirmity and pain, from New
Orleans to our Indian establishments. The heart of Jacob was
not more fondly set on going down to Egypt and seeing Joseph
before he died, than his heart was, on visiting those missionary
stations. At a little distance from Elliot, he wrote the following
apostolic letter to the missionaries at that place; a letter which
most strikingly shows the Sacred passion which ruled his heart.
He says — “in various scenes and changes; in perils of the
sea and perils of the wilderness; in much weakness, weariness,
and painfulness, my heart has been cheered with the anticipation
of being refreshed at Elliot. At present, however, it seems to
be the will of our ever to be adored Lord and Master, that the
anticipation, so fondly entertained, should not be realized. I
bow to his sovereign pleasure, always good — infinitely good.
Still my heart melts with longing and with tenderness towards
that consecrated spot — towards all the members of the mis-
sionary family, both those whom I have seen, and those whom I
have not seen ; and towards the dear children of the forest, the
objects of benevolent labor and care. May the God and Father
of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of mercies and the God of
all grace, bring you nearer and nearer to himself, and keep you
more entirely in his love — grant you abundant supports and con-
solations — make you faithful unto death. May he bless the
School, and prosper the work in the nation, and make the wilder-
ness and Solitary place to be glad for you. — And when our
labors and trials on earth shall be finished, in his infinite mercy,
may we meet in his presence above, and rejoice in his glory for-
ever.”
O F D R. W. O. R. C E S T E R . 261
When he arrived at Brainerd, May 25, he was extremely
feeble, and as it seems, looked upon the time of his departure
as near. “God,” he said, “is very gracious. He has sustained
me, as it were by miracle, thus far, and granted me one great
desire of my heart, in bringing me to Brainerd. And if it be
agreeable to his holy purposes, that I should leave my poor
remains here, his will be done.” He was able to attend to no
business, and to speak but little. In few words he addressed the
members of the church, and some of the congregation. After
that, though Imuch exhausted, he expressed a particular desire
that the children of the school, according to their request, should
come in. “I want ’’— he said with tears — “I want to see all
my dear children, and to take them by the hand.” They were
then called in, and he took each of them by the hand, as they
passed by his dying bed. Having all passed round in procession,
they stood and sung a hymn. He was affected to tears most of
the time. He then in the most affectionate manner, addressed
them while they were melted to tears. . . . . . . There, on the
seventh of June in the morning, at that consecrated spot in the
wilderness, dearer far to him than any city or mansion on earth,
this servant of the church, worn out with fatigue, and exhausted
with sickness, lifted up his eyes towards heaven, and with a de-
lightful smile upon his countenance, fell asleep in Jesus.
The grief of the missionary family on this occasion, you shall
learn from their own language. When beginning to write their
Journal, the day on which their beloved counsellor and father
died, they thus describe the overwhelming sorrow of their hearts.
—“With reluctance we enter on the events of this day. Our
thoughts recoil. Our pen stops. Tears darken our eyes. We
seek where to weep. We enter into our closets and weep there.
We resolve to be men, and not children. We resume the task.
Our weakened hands refuse to perform their office. We look at
each other, and say, who shall bear the doleful tidings 7 A Solemn
silence casts a still darker shade over the gloomy scene. Every
heart is faint; every head is sick; every hand is weak.”
But the missionary family at Brainerd are not alone in their
262 S E R M O N ON TEI E D E A TEI
grief. There is a general mourning. And this mourning will
spread through various and distant parts of the world, as soon as
the tidings of Dr. Worcester’s death shall be heard. Our mis-
sionaries in the east, and in the West loved him and confided in
him as a father, by whose mature wisdom and faithful friendship
they were guided and cheered in all their labors. How will their
hearts bleed, when they hear that this beloved, honored friend is
no more — I might mention the sorrow of his church and society;
of the Prudential Committee and the American Board; of our
Théological Seminary, in which he had been recently called to
the office of a Visitor; of the Massachusetts Missionary Society,
and the American Education Society, and of other religious and
charitable societies with which he was connected ; of the churches
and ministers of Christ; of the friends of missions and the friends
of man.
But it becomes us to restrain our feelings, and seriously to
inquire, in what manner wé should bear this visitation of provi-
dence, and what use we should make of it.
Let us then thank the God of all grace, that he has prepared a
heaven of glory and blessedness for his faithful servants. O how
sweet the rest of heaven, after a wearisome journey through this
wilderness! How blessed to be rid of all imperfections and sins.
Imperfections and sins our dear brother had, or he could not
have been human. He confessed them and looked to the blood
of atonement for forgiveness, or he could not have been a Chris-
tian. But from his life and death, we have the best reason to
think, that he now sees his Saviour face to face, and will serve him
with perfect love and perfect joy forever. * *
We ought to give thanks to God for raising up a man of so
distinguished a character, and making him the instrument of so
much good to the church. And we ought, with reverence and sub-
mission, to notice the hand of God in the place and circumstances
of his death. The progress of the divine dispensations may soon
show, and the light of eternity will certainly show, that important
ends were to be answered by his dying at a missionary station. It
seems as though God meant in this affair, to set aside the wishes
O F D R, . W O R C E S T E R . 263
of his relatives, his people and his fellow laborers here, for the
sake of some great public good. The man who has here acted So
conspicuous a part in the missionary cause, and who has secured
the strongest attachment of the Christian community, is removed
from his family and friends, and is carried away to a spot in the
wilderness — a spot on which have centered so many charities,
and labors, and prayers. He is carried to the place where our
beloved Kingsbury, with so much ability and success, began to
collect and teach the Indian children. Though a sick and dying
man, he has this desire of his heart — to see the consecrated
place — to see the missionary family—to see and embrace the
children of the forest, now the children of a Christian school, and
in words faint and few, to give his last counsel, his dying bene-
diction. There he is, in the most tender and interesting moments
of his life. There he commits his soul to his God and Saviour.
There his body lies in the dust. And now, brethren, the happy
consequence will be, that all the esteem and love, which Christians
in America have for his character, all their gratitude for his ser-
vices, all their sympathy for his sufferings, and all their grief at
his death, will be associated with that missionary establishment,
and with the missionary cause. The recollection that a man so
great, and wise, and good, went to die on missionary ground, must
excite a new interest in the public mind. The place where Dr.
Worcester died, and where he sleeps in the grave, will be a
consecrated place. And who can ever go to that place, without
emotions of mingled veneration and love and tenderness, at the
remembrance of the devoted minister who came there to die. In
the minds of Christians, that place will be closely united with the
cause which is there to be promoted. And so that precious cause
will hereafter stand out to public view, as having the nearest con-
nection with all that was great and useful in the life, and all that
was solemn and peaceful in the death of this beloved servant of
Christ.
And now, brethren, shall we faint under this heavy stroke 2
Shall the friends of missions be disheartened, and say, what can
we do 2–" Hast thou not known, hast thou not heard, that the
264 SIER Mo N on THE DEATH OF DR. W. O.R.C.E STER.
everlasting God, the Lord, the Creator of the ends of the earth
fainteth not, neither is weary 7 There is no searching of his un-
derstanding. He giveth power to the faint, and to them that
have no might, he increaseth strength.”—Every instance in
which he raises up a great and useful man to bless his church,
is a new evidence of his goodness, and of his unalterable purpose
to carry forward the work of love, till all flesh shall be saved.
God will multiply these evidences of his goodness. Our beloved
brother said in the last hours of his life, “Though I am taken
away from this delightful labor, the Lord lives, and will raise up
other instruments to carry on his work.” In that day of glory
to the church which is drawing near, God will raise up men, who
will far outshine all who have gone before them. O could you
but see in clear prospect, what will quickly be seen as a present
reality, how would your hearts leap for joy. Friends of Zion,--
friends of the missionary cause, lift your heads, for Jesus lives.
Jesus, infinitely greater than all human agents — Jesus the Sa-
viour of the world, lives and reigns forever. AMEN.
A s E R M ON
ON THE DEATH OF MOSES BROWN, ONE OF THE ASSOCIATE FOUNDERS OF THE THE-
OLOGICAL SEMINARY, ANDOWER ; DELIVERED IN NEWBURYPORT, FEB. 18, 1827.
*
1 Tim. 6: 17–19. — CHARGE THEM THAT ARE IRICH IN TFIIs world, THAT
THEY BE NOT HIGH-MINDED, NOR TRUST IN UNCERTAIN RICHES, BUT
IN THE LIVING GoD, WHO GIVETH US ALL THINGs RICHLY TO ENJOY;
THAT THEY Do GooD ; TEIAT THEY BE RICH IN GOOD works, READY TO
DISTRIBUTE, will ING TO COMMUNICATE ; LAYING UP IN STORE FOR THEM-
SELVES A GooD FOUNDATION AGAINST THE TIME TO COME, THAT THEY MAY
I,AY EIOLD ON ETERNAL LIFE.
THE duty of those who are rich, needs to be inculcated at the
present day, as much as it did in the first age of Christianity.
For, although we have seen many animating proofs of increasing
benevolence in the Christian community; still the public benevo-
lence falls far below what the exigencies of the world and the
spirit of our religion demand. This deficiency greatly impedes
the progress of divine truth, and retards the approach of that day,
when the world shall be filled with the glory of the Lord. The
various consequences which flow from the want of a more general
and active benevolence, we have had many reasons to deplore.
The example of that friend of man, who has lately closed his
eyes in death, will furnish a happy illustration of the principle
which I shall aim to establish, and render more impressive the
arguments by which I shall enforce it.
WOL. W. * 23
266 S E R M O N O N T IIIE D E A TIEI
My position is, that those who are rich are under sacred obliga-
tions to devote a portion of their substance to benevolent purposes.
I here speak of benevolence in its highest sense — benevolence
directed to objects peculiarly Christian. The cause which I plead,
is the cause of religious charity; charity exercised to promote the
spiritual and eternal interests of men.
The first argument I urge is, that property is the gift of God.
So it is represented in the text, “ Charge them that are rich –
that they trust not in uncertain riches, but in the living God, who
giveth ws all things richly to enjoy.” How often has it been
demonstrated, that no economy or foresight, no degree of skilful-
ness in our plans, or diligence in our efforts, can secure to us the
possession of riches, or even of competence, without the blessing
of God. Calamities, which no human care can prevent, frequently
occur, and reduce men from wealth to poverty, or from a state of
competence to embarrassment and suffering. If then you have
been successful in your exertions to acquire and preserve property,
you owe it to that Almighty Being, who controls the winds, and
the seasons, and all the affairs of men. Be it more or less, it is
all his gift. And no obligation can be more evident, than our
obligation to use a gift according to the will of the giver. To
neglect this would betray an ungrateful heart. And if the gift
was bestowed upon us with the express design that we should
devote it to a particular object ; we could not use it in any other
way without palpable unfaithfulness. These remarks introduce
my g .
Second argument; namely; that God has made it known to be
his will, that we should use the property which he entrusts to our
care, for benevolent purposes. He indeed permits and requires us
to provide for ourselves and our households. But the precepts of
his word constantly urge us beyond this, and present it, as a prom-
inent duty of all men, especially of the rich, to give of their sub-
stance for charitable uses. “To do good and communicate forget
not; for with such sacrifices God is well pleased.” Again. “Let us
do good unto all men, especially to them who are of the household
of faith.” God would have your benevolence expansive and uni-
O F M O SES B R O W N . * t 267
versal; but he would have its holy ardor exercised specially in
advancing the interests of his kingdom. Our Lord directs us, to
make to ourselves friends of the mammon of unrighteousness ;
that is, to make such a benevolent, pious use of riches, as to
secure the friendship of God and his people. Besides this, he
requires us, by general precepts, to devote ourselves and all that
we possess, to him, and to do all things to his glory. Whenever
he affords us an opportunity to do good, we are gladly to embrace
it ; considering that doing good is our great work. When he
opens the way to send the Holy Scriptures or ministers of the
gospel to those who are perishing in ignorance and wickedness;
it is obviously his will, that we should devote to these objects a
portion of the substance which he has given us. This is required
by those comprehensive precepts: “Thou shalt love thy neighbor
as thyself; ” and “Whatsoever ye would that others should do
unto you, do ye also the same unto them.” For imagine,
brethren, that you yourselves were in the wretched condition of the
heathem world, without the light of the gospel, and enslaved to the
basest idolatry; and let your consciences and your hearts say,
whether it would not be an act of benevolence highly commend-
able in Christians, to send you the news of Salvation, and to afford
you the means of being delivered from the deepest ignorance and
wretchedness. And if So, how can you neglect to perform the
same act of benevolence towards those, who are in that very state
of ignorance and Wretchedness, and who have no prospect of
deliverance, except through the influence of your pious charity ?
I here urge the duty on the ground of that divine precept, which
requires us to love our neighbors as ourselves, and to do to others as
we would that they should do to us. There is no possibility of
evading this obligation.
This then is my argument with every one who is rich. Who
made you rich 7 Who entrusted such an estate to your care :
And for what purpose 7 By putting such an estate into your
hands, God has constituted you his steward. And being his
steward, you will endeavor to learn his will respecting the objects
to which you should devote his property. This you may do by
268 S E R M O N O N T H E D E AT II
attending to the teachings of his word and providence. A part
of your estate is manifestly needed for the supply of your own
personal wants. More may be needed as a comfortable and hon-
orable provision for your household. What then is to be done
with the residue : There are at this day many great objects of
benevolence; objects far above the ability of men in ordinary cir-
cumstances to accomplish. Such men must exhaust their feebler
charities upon smaller objects, or must be content with doing a
little for objects of loftier magnitude. A great work remains,
which can never be done, except by the benevolent use of riches.
Literary and religious institutions must be established and sup-
ported. Thousands of pious youth must be educated for the min-
istry. Thousands of missionaries must be maintained among the
heathem. The Bible must be printed in all languages, and spread .
through all nations; while the means of instruction and reforma-
tion must be furnished to millions among ourselves.
These things, taken together, constitute a work which is exceed-
ingly arduous, and which cannot be carried forward and com-
pleted, without large contributions from large estates. This work
is certainly of great importance in the judgment of God. And
can you suppose he did not think of it, when he prospered your
efforts, and made you rich 7 Suppose the Lord Jesus should now
come to you, and give you a particular amount of property, and
should expressly say to you; – This property I commit to you
in Sacred trust, with this one direction, that you should use it to
promote the cause which is dearest to my heart. Would you not
think yourself happy to be made the steward of his bounty 7 And
could you have a thought of devoting what was thus entrusted to
you by your Lord, to any use but to promote his own cause 2 Now
the silver and the gold are the Lord’s ; and to every one who has
more or less wealth, he has in fact virtually spoken in the very
manner supposed. He has entrusted you with wealth, and has
made known his will respecting the uses to which it shall be
applied. And no duty can be more obvious to reason, or more
touching to the heart, than the duty of using the substance which
God has given you according to his will and for the promotion of
his cause. -
O F M O SES B R O W N. 269
Perhaps you may say, this property is your own. . So far as the
laws of civil society are concerned, it is so indeed. And no man
on earth can interfere with the right you have to use it according
to your own pleasure. But the God who made us, and who has
given us our time and our property, comes forward with an
authority which no being in the universe can question, and com-
mands us to devote ourselves and all that we possess to him. . The
proper inquiry then is — what use of God’s gifts will be most
pleasing to him 2 What use of them should we think best, if we
loved him with all our heart and soul and mind and strength 2 . If
the Apostle, who was ready to be bound and to die at Jerusalem
for the name of Jesus, were here, and possessed of this property
of ours; what use of it, would he think best ? And what would
be most agreeable to him who was rich, and who for our sakes
became poor 2 If men of every degree of wealth should entertain
just conceptions and feelings on this momentous subject, they
could never doubt their obligation to employ a portion of their
property in religious charities. They would deem it sacrilege, to
dispose of their estates, living or dying, without giving the cause
of Christ a prominent place in their thoughts and in their arrange-
ments. Covetousness would cease. Private affections would be
made subordinate to Christian benevolence. And it would be as
uncommon for a man possessed of a considerable estate, to make no
large contributions or bequests to the cause of the Redeemer, as it
is now for a man to make none to his own family. Then the
records of benevolence would exhibit frequent donations and lega-
cies of thousands and hundreds of thousands of dollars, for the
various purposes of religious charity; and from men of smaller
estates, their smaller contributions, no less acceptable to God than
the larger offerings of the rich. Then no great and pious under-
takings would flag, no good institutions would languish, and no
portion of the human family would be left in ignorance or wicked-
mess for want of pecuniary means.
Such as I have now represented is the duty of the rich; such
the demand which the supreme Proprietor of their wealth makes
upon them as his Stewards ; such and so sublime the purposes tº
23*
270. S E R M O N O N T EIIR, DEATH
which he requires them to devote their substance; and so glorious
the consequences of their conforming to his requisition, and fully
accomplishing the objects for which he has entrusted them with
wealth. O ye who are rich, and whose hearts the grace of God
has inclined to do good, with what language can I describe the
magnitude of that work you are destined by divine providence to
effect, or the happiness you may enjoy, if you will rise above the
grovelling conceptions of worldly men, and with the love of God
in your hearts, present yourselves and your possessions, as a free-
will offering to him . The obligation of men in respect to their
worldly substance begins to be better understood than heretofore.
But it will be understood and felt far more perfectly, before the
happy day when the knowledge of the Lord shall fill the earth.
My third argument is, that property, when devoted to benevolent
objects, is greatly superior in value to what it can be, when used
for other purposes. Look at that man, who is favored with a
large estate, but has no ear to hear the cry of distress, and no
heart to feel for the miseries of his fellow men. He loves his
money; and would rather see a world perish, than diminish his
hoarded treasures. Behold another, who expends his riches to
gratify his ambition, or his love of fashion and splendor. Behold
another still, who uses his wealth to please or aggrandize his chil-
dren. What now is the value of riches in the hands of such men
as these, compared with the value it acquires in the hands of the
Christian philanthropist, who, without neglecting any private ob-
ligation, devotes his wealth chiefly to works of benevolence—to
feed the hungry, to encourage the industry of the poor, to instruct
the ignorant, and to save those who are perishing in sin 7 What is
the wealth belonging to a miser, or a man of fashion, compared
with that which belongs to a Thornton, a Boudinot, or an Abbot?
Look forward to the final judgment, when every man shall give
account to God of the use he made of his substance. Then all
worldly interests, and the delusion of worldly passions, will be
ended, and things, always before seen through a mist, will appear
in noon-day light. Two individuals, who prospered in their busi-
ness in this world, and acquired riches, will then appear before
O F M O SES B R O W N . 271
the judgment seat. One of them remembered and loved the
cause of Christ, and made it his first object to use his estate for
the glory of the Redeemer, and the good of his kingdom. And
in the final disposal he made of his property, he remembered his
Sacred obligations, and aimed seriously to make such a Will, as
would be pleasing to his Saviour, and would most effectually sub-
Serve the same precious cause to which he had so often contributed
before. And accordingly after providing generously for his own
family, he bequeathed large sums to the most important objects
of pious benevolence. Now what will be our judgment, and what
will be the judgment of Christ, respecting the man who used his
estate in such a manner, compared with the man who forgot the
Saviour, and overlooked his cause, and devoted all that he had to
private objects?. -
Fourthly. Using our property for purposes of benevolence
affords the most evalted and permanent pleasure. Such is the
constitution of the mind and the principles of the divine govern-
ment, that our pleasure will be according to the nature of our
predominant desires. Men who are governed by worldly, selfish
desires, have their pleasures. But how low and worthless are
they compared with what a benevolent man enjoys in doing good!
I appeal to the experience of ages. I appeal to facts which are
familiar to every man, who has used his substance for the welfare
of others. Of all the money he has ever expended, that has
yielded him the highest pleasure, which has been devoted to
benevolent objects. Even a little, spent in this way, has afforded
more happiness than much, spent in other ways. On the score of
enjoyment, the gratification of all the animal appetites, and of all
the selfish desires, and even of the domestic and social affections,
falls far below the gratification of Christian benevolence.
And the pleasure of doing good, which is so much superior to
other pleasures in its nature, is equally superior in permanence.
The pleasures of sin are but for a moment. But the man of
active benevolence has pleasures which end not. He has re-
sources for time to come — for hours of Solitude, and for days
and years of adversity. Do you wish then, ye men of wealth,
272 SE RM O N O N T EIB D E A TIEI
so to use your estates as to Secure the most exalted and perma-
ment pleasure ? Then cherish the spirit of benevolence; be rich
ân good works. But if you will not seek happiness in this way;
then I must tell you, that the poor widow, whose love to Christ
prompts her to give away her two mites in charity, is far happier
than you, with all your riches. Yea more. Your wealth is totally
worthless. It is smitten with a curse; — and good had it been
for you, if you had been doomed to poverty, or had never been
born.
But to those whose hearts are benevolent the possession of
wealth will secure the purest pleasure. Their own experience
will verify the words of our Saviour: It is more blessed to give
than to receive. And besides enjoying the present pleasures, they
will “lay up in store for themselves a good foundation against the
time to come; ” that is, a firm and durable happiness in the
future world.
How powerful then are the motives, by which men are urged to
do good with their substance. If our hearts were right, our
own desire for the welfare of others would seem, by itself, to be
a sufficient inducement to devote our property to benevolent ob-
jects. But we are not left without other inducements. For God
has connected present pleasures of the purest kind with the exer-
cise of benevolence; and he will hereafter most graciously reward
it with unalloyed and everlasting happiness in the kingdom of
heaven. -
Fifthly. The benevolent use of property is the surest and best
way to promote the welfare of our children. This may seem a
paradox to those who are unaccustomed to sober reflection. But
it is a plain and obvious truth. For what is more important
to the welfare of our children, than forming them to a right
character ? And what can we do that will have so powerful an
influence upon them in this respect, as to exhibit a right example
before them 7 And how can we exhibit a right example, without
habitual compliance with the divine command to do good, to be
'rich in good works? Let a man by the proper use of his estate,
make an impression upon his children, that he is free from covet-
OF MO SES B R OWN. 273
ousness, and that he aims to please God and to promote the best
interests of his fellow men; and the impression must be salutary.
His children will be powerfully drawn to copy his example. And
if he may in this way be successful in forming his children to
benevolence and piety, he will promote their happiness in the
highest sense. Who that truly loves his children, would not
rather see them adorned with piety, and imitators of the divine
goodness, than possessed of earthly riches 7 Would you exert
this salutary influence upon the character of your children most
effectually; then let your example be invested with excellence
of the highest degree. Let your benevolence stretch beyond the
common measure. Rise to strong, constant, untiring effort; and
So acquire a visible likeness to him, who went about doing good.
With such an example before their eyes, your children, you may
hope, will early imbibe the spirit and taste the pleasures of be-
nevolence. And if they do this, their everlasting interests are
SČCllre.
But there is another view to be taken of this subject. Has not
the experience of ages shown, that inheriting large estates is a dan-
gerous Smare to children; – much more dangerous, than the same
estates would be, if obtained by their own diligent efforts : Is it
not often found, that the wealth which the fond affection of a father
bequeathed to his offspring, proves the occasion of their disgrace
and ruin 7 And is it not often the case, that if a father could only
rise from his grave, and witness the folly and dissipation of his chil-
dren, and the permicious purposes to which they devote the proper-
ty they received from him; he would mourn over the mistake he
had committed, and over the miseries he had contributed to bring
upon those whom he so fondly loved 7 Let then every affectionate
father, who is possessed of wealth cherish a wise and faithful
regard to the happiness of his own offspring, and Save them from
the dangerous temptation to which they would be exposed, by
inheriting large estates, and let him commit them to the care and
mercy of God. It is indeed our duty to give our children a
Christian education, to aid them in their entrance into life, and to
provide for their comfortable subsistence. But is not the bless-
274 S E R M O N O N T H E D EATH
'ing of God better than riches 7 Suppose, by devoting a portion
of our estate to Christ and the church, we diminish their inher-
itance. Do we not secure to them that divine favor, which is
infinitely more precious than any earthly inheritance 2 Here
them is a double good to be accomplished by the benevolent use
of our property, good to our fellow men, to whose benefit we
devote a portion of our substance; and good to our own children,
by an act of benevolence and piety, which we may hope, through
the mercy of God, will bring blessings upon their heads. I cannot
but consider the condition of that child deplorable, rather than
enviable, to whom an opulent father has bequeathed his whole
estate. How much better would it have been for the child, if the
greater part had been given to the Lord, and the residue, with
the divine blessing, to him |
My last reason for a benevolent and pious use of our property,
is, that it will have a salutary influence upon our own hearts.
The acquisition of wealth has a tendency to strengthen our selfish
and earthly passions; and so to exclude God and eternity from
our minds. Now if Christians will take a part of that, which has
been the nutriment of their selfish passions, and has withdrawn
their hearts from God, and will devote it to his honor and the good
of his church; they will directly counteract their covetousness, and
will at the same time bring themselves into contact with higher
and nobler objects, kindle purer affections and taste purer joys.
Christians, to whom God has given large estates, Seldom attain to
eminent piety; and for the most part are destitute of those enjoy-
ments in religion which are granted to others. They are sensible
of this, and are frequently heard to complain, that they have so
little fervor of piety, and so little spiritual comfort; that their
souls cleave to the dust; that they cannot enjoy communion with
God, and cannot find any satisfactory evidence of their title to
beaven. Let such Christians inquire, whether there is not a
cause for this low and comfortless state : Have you not too much
of this world’s riches; and do you not hold it with too strong a
grasp? Does not the burden of your estate bear too heavily
upon you? Your march to the heavenly world is all the way
O F M O S E S B R O W N . 275
ascending. In this upward march you are grievously overloaded.
Lay aside this oppressive weight, and you will soon make better
progress. Diminish your earthly treasures. Be rich in good
works. Thus the poison will be extracted from riches; the curse
will be removed; and that which is so generally the occasion of
mischief, will be turned into a blessing.
On the present occasion, my hearers have doubtless often
turned their thoughts to our departed friend, as one who exem-
plified that principle of benevolence which I have endeavored to
inculcate. He did indeed exemplify it, and compared with most
of his contemporaries, in a remarkable degree. I well know that
this community will confirm the truth of what I say. And I am
persuaded, that they will not be satisfied, unless some public tes-
timony shall be given to the benevolence, the usefulness, and the
piety of that beloved man, whose death has filled so many hearts
with sorrow. The name of Moses Brown cannot be pronounced,
without respect and love. I might expatiate upon the many esti-
mable traits of his character. I might say, that for more than
half a century, in which he was engaged in acquiring and using
his property, his reputation for integrity and honor was unsullied ;
that it was his uniform principle, to seek no advantage to him-
self, which would prove injurious to his neighbor; that he neither
countenanced vice, nor neglected, on suitable occasions, to reprove
it; that he was eminently a peace-maker, exercising, with singu-
lar success, the spirit of conciliation. I might speak of the
sweetness of his temper; of the control he maintained over his
own passions; of his sincerity as a friend; of his generous
hospitality; and of the happy combination he possessed of the
domestic virtues. I might say, that through a long life he mani-
fested a lively interest in whatever concerned the welfare of
society, of the church, and of the world ; that while he was
raised, by his wealth and the worth of his character, to hold so
respectable a place in society, he was totally averse to splendor
and show; that he scrupulously avoided all needless expense,
and set an example of plainness and economy, which, if generally
copied by the rich, would save enough to rescue ten thousand
276 SERMON ON THE DEATH
families from distress, and to send the gospel to all nations. But
on these attributes of his character I cannot enlarge. I have a
particular object in view, and to that I shall chiefly confine my
remarks. º
Moses Brown was born in Newbury, Oct. 2, 1742. By un-
ceasing, diligence, and the exercise of judgment, and forethought,
with the blessing of divine providence, he rose from small be:
ginnings to the possession of a large estate. But he was not,
like most other successful merchants, so immersed in his worldly
business and cares, as to be neglectful of the wants and sufferings
of the poor. He remembered what it was to be poor; and,
through all the years of his prosperity, he cherished a generous
sympathy for those who were placed in that condition from which
divine providence had raised him up. Many a time did he, from
the mere kindness of his heart, exercise a forbearance towards his
debtors, which occasioned him the loss of what was justly his
due. And many a time, especially in the latter part of his life,
did he relinquish valuable claims upon individuals, because they
could not pay him, without reducing themselves to straits.
It would be impossible to record the various forms and in-
stances of his charity to families and individuals. The benevo-
lent actions, of which I now speak, are known in part to those
among whom he lived. But they are fully known to God only.
And I trust, that when they are brought to view at a future day,
our departed friend will recollect, with holy thanksgiving, that
divine grace which excited him to perform them; and will know
the happy import of what the God of mercy hath said: Blessed
is he that considereth the poor.
But these charities to the poor did not satisfy the heart of
this friend of man. He did not follow the steps of those rich
men, who engage a little in more private charities, and there
stop. His having devoted so much of his substance to the ordi-
nary objects of benevolence, had an influence to enlarge his
heart, and to prepare him to contribute to higher and nobler ob-
jects. -
My lot, as a minister of the gospel, was cast a few miles from
O F. M.O SES B R O W N. 277
his residence. In compliance with a particular request, I had
the pleasure of meeting with him, together with another friend,
now living, and another, now I trust in heaven, to consult re-
specting the establishment of a Theological Seminary. It was
twenty years ago. The subject of a Theological Institution was
then new to us, and new to the public. The conversation of that
evening will be one of the last things to fade away from my
memory. But it was not conversation merely. The honored
friends of whom I speak, were not men of words, but of business.
And, feeling their obligations to God, who had given them their
estates, they then entered on the plan of founding a Seminary
for the education of pious youth for the ministry. And that gen-
erous man, who is now silent in death, freely offered his ten
thousand dollars for this momentous object. Though he was a
man of but ordinary education, and had been incessantly engaged,
from early life, first in mechanical, and then in mercantile labors;
and although he had never thought himself worthy to be num-
bered with the followers of Christ; he had a mind large enough to
understand the importance and necessity of such an establish-
ment, and a heart to give liberally of his honest treasures to pro-
mote it. That time appears like yesterday. Every word, and
look, and tone of voice is fresh in my recollection. The readi-
ness, the simplicity, the generous kindness, with which our de-
parted friend offered his aid, cannot be described; though by
those who knew him, it may easily be conceived. He merely
said: It is a great object; I will give ten thousand dollars to
begin with ; and more afterwards. He redeemed his pledge;
for he was always a nursing father to the Seminary; and after vari-
ous smaller donations, and one of a thousand dollars, he gave, a
few years since, twenty-five thousand dollars to found a new
Professorship. Besides all this, he promoted, by generous con-
tributions, the various religious charities of the day. And it was
a remarkable trait of his character, distinguishing him from most
others, that even after he came to be an old man, he could
readily enter into any new plans of benevolence, how different
soever they might be from those to which he had been accus-
WOL. V. 24
278 SERM O N ON THE DEATH
tomed. Such was the American Education Society, which he
regarded from the beginning, as a worthy object of his patronage,
and to which, at the commencement of his last sickness, he con-
tributed a thousand dollars. Such too was the American Tem-
perance Society, the formation of which he welcomed with all his
heart, as it coincided perfectly with his own settled principles
and habits, and the sober results of long observation. To this
Society he made a donation of five hundred dollars. He pre-
viously contributed five hundred dollars for the benefit of Greene-
ville College, Tenn., and fifteen hundred to the town of Newbury-
port, when it was visited with a destructive fire. By his last
Will, he bequeathed six thousand dollars to be kept as an in-
creasing fund, till it should be adequate to the perpetual support
of a public Grammar school in Newburyport; one thousand dol-
lars to the Howard Benevolent Society; and one thousand acres
of land in Brownville, Me., to the Theological Seminary in Ban-
gor. He also gave a large amount of legacies to various indi-
viduals, who were not lawful heirs to his estate.
You perceive that our honored friend did not copy the example
of some rich men, who retain their property with an iron grasp as
long as life remains, and then, by Will, give away something,
because they can hold it no longer themselves. He made a liberal
use of his estate while he lived, while in health, while engaged in
business, and while capable of enjoying the satisfaction of seeing
the good resulting from his charities. -
But the crowning excellence of his character was religious
principle. His life gave evidence of his humility and devotion.
He loved the doctrines of revelation, the strictness of evangelical
truth. Never was there a man, who seemed to think less of
himself; who was further from making any claims upon the divine
favor, or indulging any hopes of heaven on the ground of his
good Works, though few men ever had more of these than he.
But they were of no account with him in the affair of justification
before God. In this respect, he regarded them as of no value,
and looked for salvation to the Lamb of God which taketh away
the sin of the world. His character had long been such, that
O F M O S E S B R O WIN . ‘. . 279
Christians would have rejoiced to welcome him to the Lord's
Table. But from this he was deterred by his extreme self-dis.
trust, and by an impression, which was probably not altogether
correct, of the nature and design of the ordinance. But the
heavy afflictions, with which it pleased God to visit him a few
years since, in the death of his amiable partner, and his only
child, were evidently the means of producing greater decision
and maturity of Christian character, and preparing him for
greater enjoyments. In consequence of this, he was induced to
unite himself with the church of Christ by a public profession.
I am free to express my wish, that he had done it long before,
and my conviction, that he committed a serious mistake in neg-
lecting it.
And now, brethren and friends, when we review the subject,
and fix our eyes on the character of the beloved man, who has
lately been removed from us to another world; we cannot but be
impressed with the littleness and insignificance of wealth, devoted
to selfish, worldly purposes. Oh it is all nothing-worth, all-con-
temptible, as the judgment day will show. We honor the poor
man, who cheerfully gives a few cents to promote the cause of
his Saviour. But the man who possesses wealth, and who lives
and dies, without giving any considerable portion of it to benevo-
lent and pious objects, has no honor from God, and deserves none
from man. He sinks his name and his riches into contempt. And
though he may leave a large estate to his heirs, he leaves no
blessing of God with it. But blessed are they whose hearts
are warmed with divine love, who are “rich in good works, laying
up in store for themselves a good foundation against the time to
come, that they may lay hold on eternal life.”
A S E R M 0 N
ſ
ON TEIE DEATH OF JEREMIAEI EVARTS, CORRESPONDING SECRETARY OF THE A, B.
C. F. M., DELIVERED IN ANDOWER, JULY 81, 1831.
Acts 10:38. — “WHO WENT ABOUT DOING GOOD.”
WE have assembled, brethren and friends, to show our respect
to the memory of a faithful servant of Christ, and our sorrow at
his death. That friend to the heathem, that benefactor of man-
kind, who has been taken from us, enjoyed the esteem and affec-
tion not only of his relatives, of the Prudential Committee, and
of the American Board, but of all those in our country who love
the cause of Christ. He was very dear also to the missionaries
whom we have sent forth, and the tidings of his death will fill their
hearts with sorrow. In Palestine, in India, in the wilderness of
America, and in the Isles of the Pacific, there will be great
mourning for our beloved Secretary.
Far be it from me to bestow unmeasured applause upon any
man, especially upon the man whose death we deplore. The
highest honor I would give him is to say, that he was a Christian,
and that, in imitation of his Lord and Master, he went about do-
ing good. Our departed friend was of a humble heart and con-
trite spirit. He disclaimed all personal worthiness, and was
among the last to seek or to desire applause. And now that he
SERM ON ON THE DEATH OF J.E REMIAH EVAR. T.S. 281
is gone to a world of perfect holiness, he will be deaf to all praise,
except that which is ascribed to God and the Lamb.
In this solemn service, I shall attempt to show by what attri-
butes of character, and by what arrangements of divine providence,
we are to account for the eminent usefulness of our lamented
brother, the late corresponding Secretary of the American Board.
I shall first notice his intellectual character. The faculties of
his mind were originally strong and active, and were improved by
a thorough literary and Scientific education, and a regular course
of study in law. . There are few men, whose acquisitions are
more extensive or more solid. On all subjects to which he turned
his attention, whether literary, political, or religious, he formed
clear and comprehensive views; and whether he undertook to
write or speak, he exhibited the riches of his mind in a diction
uniformly natural, perspicuous and forcible. The extemporaneous
addresses he made on public occasions were peculiarly modest and
plain; but full of vivid, pertinent, and weighty thought. He was
distinguished by patience and fairness in his investigations, by the
clearness and force of his reasoning, and by correctness and de-
spatch in business. In all his habits, whether of thought or action,
he showed as little liability to mistake, as can be expected of any
man in this state of imperfection.
Now it is upon the character of the mind, that our ability to do
good in a great measure depends. If a man is in this respect
superior to others, he will in all probability accomplish more good
than they. The usefulness of his labors, unless prevented by
special causes, will be very much in proportion to the amount of
his intellectual powers and acquisitions.
This is a subject, on which young men, in different stages of
their education, frequently entertain erroneous views. They look
forward to their future profession with impatience, and are in
haste to engage in its labors, apprehending that spending so much
time in preparation will detract from the good they might accom-
plish. This is a great mistake. For all experience shows, that
the whole of a man’s usefulness is not so much according to the
length of the time in which he is engaged in active service, as to
24*
282 SERMON ON THE DEATH
the amount of his qualifications; and that if any one would be
Sure to rise to the highest degree of usefulness of which he is
capable, he must spend more time than is common in preparation,
leaving less for action.
The whole time which Mr. Evarts devoted to classical, scientific
and professional study unquestionably contributed to his useful-
ness. Even those acquisitions, which might have been thought
less necessary, proved serviceable in some part of the work as-
signed to him. For example; the knowledge he acquired of juris-
prudence qualified him to perform that work of benevolence in
behalf of the suffering Indians, which will be so lasting an honor
to him in the view of all who love justice and feel for the oppres-
sed. And if some of his previous studies did not in the same
manner come into direct use in the cause to which he was de-
voted; they still had an influence in giving strength and elevation
to the character of his mind, and in preparing him more effectual-
ly to accomplish his great object.
In the second place, I shall notice his moral and religious
character.
In the strict evangelical sense, Mr. Evarts was a good man.
His life afforded the most satisfactory evidence that he had ex-
perienced the renewing of the Holy Ghost; that he repented of
sin, and believed in Christ as the only Saviour, and that he ren-
dered habitual obedience to the divine commands.
Now this spirit of Christian piety contributed in the highest
degree to his usefulness. It was this which gave a right direc-
tion to his intellectual powers, and led him to make a right use
of his acquisitions. It was this, which constituted his great in-
ward motive to a useful life. Had he possessed the same intel-
lectual furniture, without piety; his influence, instead of being
beneficial, might have been mischievous. He might have spent
his life in spreading moral pestilence. And even if he had avoid-
ed this excess of iniquity, and devoted himself to the business
of the profession which he originally chose ; he might have done
little more than to pursue his own private interests. The spread
of the gospel and the Salvation of the world would have had no
O F. J. E. R. E. MIA EI E W A. R. T. S. 283
power over his heart. Look at those who are possessed of richly
furnished minds, but are destitute of religious principle. Their
lives are spent in worldly pursuits and indulgences. Even those
actions which have a show of goodness, are dictated by a more
refined selfishness. Behold, them, the work which sovereign grace
accomplishes | When God renews the hearts of sinners, he man-
ifests great love, not only to them, but to the world. They who are
renewed have the spirit of active benevolence, and so are led, by a
motive of exhaustless energy, to seek the highest interests of man.
They bear the image of him who went about doing good. When our
beloved friend was renewed by the divine Spirit, his heart was
brought under the influence of love to God and love to man. At
his conversion he commenced a course of action, which was to fall
in with a great system of benevolence, and to promote the salva-
tion of untold multitudes in Christian and heathen lands.
But holy affection, in order to produce its proper effects, must
not only exist, but be lively and fervent. Benevolence, when
feeble and dormant, can accomplish but little. The good to be
accomplished by the agency of Evarts required a mind enlight-
ened and purified in an uncommon degree ; —it required a
benevolence steady, ardent and invincible. And such was the
character to which, through the grace of God, he was formed.
The affection which predominated in his breast, next to his supreme
love to God, was compassion to the souls of men, and strong desire
for the Salvation of the heathen. This was the inward power
which moved him. It was not a feverish heat, but the even pul-
sation and glow of health. What others might do from sudden
excitement, he did from principle — principle which was uniform
and enduring. The moral principle which actuated him was as
permanent as the faculties of his soul, and the indwelling Spirit
of God. Such a principle of action is essential to the highest
degree of usefulness in any condition. Though it lies concealed
in the shades of private life, and shows itself only in the little
circle of domestic duties, or in the exercises of secret devotion;
still it contributes to the welfare of the world.
But religious principle was specially important and necessary
284 S E R M O N O N T PIE DEAT BI
to the chief agent in our Foreign Missionary enterprise. In con-
nection with others, he had to accomplish a work of uncommon mag-
nitude, and to encounter numberless and formidable difficulties. He
was called to guide the ship over a tempestuous Sea, when strong
counter currents were to be stemmed, Sudden changes of wind and
weather to be encountered, and rocks and shoals to be avoided.
In such an enterprise, it was indispensable that he should possess
a principle of great firmness and strength; a principle which
would enable him to meet difficulties calmly, and to rise above all
discouragements; and which would contain within itself an
exhaustless power of excitement, when all other springs of action
failed. Such a principle he had. It was the religious affection
which the Spirit of God produced and cherished in his heart. It
was an affection which brought him into an alliance with apostles
and martyrs, and with Christ himself.
But there was a particular attribute of his moral character,
which was of great importance to his usefulness, namely, his scru-
pulous and inflewible integrity.
This trait in his character was so manifest, that it raised him
entirely above suspicion. The name of Jeremiah Evarts produced
a general feeling of Safety in regard to any interests which might
be committed to his care. The evident simplicity and uprightness
of his character freed him from the obstructions, which the sus-
picions of others always throw in the way of a man’s usefulness,
and secured to him the confidence and support not only of his
particular associates, but of all those in the community who were
attached to the cause of missions. And this manifest uprightness
of character, which was indispensable to his success through the
whole period of our Foreign Missionary operations, was so in a
prečminent degree, at the commencement of those operations,
To carry into effect the great design of the Board, it was neces-
Sary that large sums of money should be contributed, and sent in
charity to various and distant countries — a business hardly known
among us at that time, and not easily accomplished even in the
most favorable circumstances. Now who can suppose that both
the rich and the poor would have voluntarily united from year to
of JE REMIATI EVARTS. 285
year, as they actually did, in raising the requisite funds, had they
Indulged a suspicion of the integrity or disinterestedness of the
man to whom the funds were to be intrusted, and who was, from
the beginning, one of the principal agents in conducting all the
concerns of the missions.
I proceed to say, thirdly, that our lamented brother had a
remarkable completeness and symmetry of character.
We not unfrequently meet with men, who are distinguished for
particular virtues, while in regard to others they are notoriously
deficient. There are some, who are endued with ardor and bold-
ness, and other shining qualities for public life, who yet are
subject to failings in their private character. They are wanting
in meekness and gentleness. Some make it manifest, that the
applauses bestowed upon them have produced self-complacency
and Vanity, and that, in opposition to a divine precept, they esteem
themselves better than others. Some, again, have a covetous or a
suspicious temper; or they are wanting in Christian simplicity; or
are subject to rashness, fickleness, or indiscretion. But it was
otherwise with Evarts. Every one acquainted with his public life
knows full well, that he was possessed of manly resolution, firm-
mess, and activity. But he was possessed, in an equal degree,
of humility, forbearance, and gentleness. He had as much of the
amiable, as of the dignified.
This completeness of character was of the highest consequence
to his usefulness. It was no small matter, that such a character
was carried into that high station which was allotted to him, and
was made to bear upon all the interests with which he was
intrusted.
But I am to speak also of the symmetry of his character. He
not only had the various qualities which belong to a good charac-
ter, but had them in just proportion. How different was he from
those, who seem to have an exact conscience respecting one class
of obligations, but are inattentive to others; from those who man-
ifest much regard to that which is appropriately religious, and but
little to that which relates to common life — who reverence the
Sabbath, and regularly attend to its public services, but are
286 SERMON ON THE DEATH
chargeable with irregularities of temper and conduct during the
week. On the other hand, how different was he from those, who
are exact in respect to their domestic duties, but regardless of
those which are more public, or more directly religious. Let me
not, however, be understood to imply that he had an excellence of
character, which was free from all deficiency and all blemish. This
would be to contradict his deep conviction of his own failings, his
sincere confessions, and penitence, and self-abhorrence; and it
would be to overlook that pure and spiritual law which no Chris-
tian on earth perfectly obeys for a single day, or a single moment
of his life. But if the character of Evarts is viewed in compari-
son with that of good men generally, I think it must appear to
great advantage in respect to completeness and symmetry. Who
that knew him, ever thought that any part of what constitutes a
good character was wanting in him, or that some of his intellectual
or moral qualities grew to excess, while others, equally important,
were below their proper measure ?
The public character of Mr. Evarts exhibited the symmetry
above mentioned, in one very important respect. With as much
ardor as was necessary to the highest degree of effort, he united
a sound judgment. Had the momentous concerns of our Foreign
Missions been committed to a man of more zeal, and less discre-
tion; the consequence might have been disastrous. There is a
degree of heat, which discomposes the mind, and produces disor-
der. If a man’s ardor goes beyond the bounds of moderation,
and his zeal breaks loose from his judgment; the world will be
afraid to trust him. He may have more active power, and for a
time, accomplish more good, than any other man. Still it will be
dangerous to confide in him ; because, in one rash hour, he may
expose to ruin all the interests committed to his care. The zeal
of Evarts did indeed rise to a high degree of warmth; but it
had no enthusiastic effervescence, no convulsive starts, no violence.
It was just sufficient to put his mind into the fittest state for
deliberation and effort; —just sufficient to afford the necessary
excitement to his reason, his invention, and all his active powers.
It was invariably associated with the most tranquil operations of a
O F. J. E. R. E. M.I.A. H. E. W. A. R. T. S. 28'ſ
well furnished intellect ; and it led him to adopt measures as ex-
tensive as existing circumstances would admit ; measures which
he pursued through successive years, with unfailing resolution,
and with increasing evidence that they were both wise and prac-
ticable. -
His excellence of character appeared in the Sober and Scrip-
tural views he entertained respecting the doctrines of Christianity.
No man was more free from Sectarian prejudice, and a pertinacious
attachment to old opinions. And yet no man was more determined
in opposition to novelties in religion, or more grieved at any
departure from the simplicity of the gospel. On all questions of
controversy at the present day, his habit of thinking was at once
cautious and decided, and was conformed to the settled orthodoxy
of our churches, and, in my apprehension, to the dictates of rea-
son and revelation. His knowledge of theology was so extensive,
and his manner of reasoning, both on polemic and practical points,
was so candid and perspicuous, that his conversation was highly
prized by the most intelligent Christians. It is hardly necessary
to add, that the judicious opinions, which he was known to enter-
tain on the subject of religion, procured for him a still higher
place in the esteem of the community, and gave an additional
influence to his efforts in the cause of missions.
I have now noticed the chief of those intellectual and moral
properties which prepared our departed friend for eminent useful-
mess. But of what utility would all these excellent properties
have been, had they not been brought into actual exercise : How
little good comparatively would he have done, had he been left
in the shades of private life, or had he been chiefly devoted to the
acquisition of wealth 7 But the God who made him, and who
furnished him with so many valuable qualifications, designed him
for a particular work, and in due time prepared the way for him
to enter upon it. It was a short time after he came to this vicin-
ity, that the Foreign Mission from America was commenced, and
the management of its interests committed to a Board of Com-
missioners. From the first, Mr. Evarts was employed in the
executive business of the Board. Besides being Treasurer, he
288 S E R M O N ON TEI E DEATH
was intimately associated with Dr. Worcester, the Corresponding
Secretary, in conducting the correspondence, and in all the con-
cerns of our growing missions. By this course of labor for about
ten years, he became well qualified for the office of Secretary,
when it was vacated by the death of Dr. Worcester, and when
the burden of its responsibilities and cares had been so much in-
creased by the increase of missionary interest in our country.
This was the station for which divine providence raised him up.
In this station all his intellectual powers and moral principles were
brought into constant and vigorous action, and his whole character
experienced a sensible and rapid growth. It was by his labors in
this station, that he arrived at his proper degree of usefulness.
When Mr. Evarts entered on the station assigned him, he con-
secrated his time and influence to the cause of missions among
the heathen. Towards this object his thoughts, his studies, his
exertions were all directed. To this chosen object he devoted his
life, not that he disregarded any private obligations; —not that
he undervalued any other object of benevolence, or lost his love
for literature and science, or for anything which could adorn the
mind, or promote the comfort of society. He showed, that a man
in the most important station has no occasion to neglect his less
important duties. He showed, that a great man has no need to
have either great faults, or little faults. But to whatever other
objects he occasionally turned his attention, he never lost sight of
the cause of missions. He acted on the principle that if a man
would accomplish the highest degree of good, he must have only
one great object.
The object to which he thus devoted himself, and the efforts
which he made, were of such a nature as to be followed by dura-
ble effects—by a continuity of good. It is not according to
sound wisdom, that we should fill up the little space of time, and
use the little power we have, in pursuit of a good which has no
solid worth, and will last but a moment. If there is a good which
is really excellent and durable, let us choose that. It was the
appointment of Christ, that his apostles should bear much fruit,
and that their fruit should remain. What they did, produced
of JEREMIAH EVARTS. 289
permanent effects; — it conduced to a good which was everlasting.
Our beloved Secretary labored for the same object. He was of
one heart with the apostles, who labored to save those that were
lost. His efforts like theirs, were upon a large scale. Had he
promoted the salvation of a single individual, he would have done
a great and good work. But his efforts were directed to the
welfare of communities and nations; to the salvation of the world.
And if respect is had to the wisdom of the measures which were
adopted, to the extensive and systematic operations, which have
already been attended with animating success, and which are to
lead on to other measures, far more extensive, and far more suc-
cessful—if it is remembered that the missionary zeal, which he
helped to kindle in the church, is to burn with a still purer and
brighter flame, and that his labors were, by the appointment of
heaven, closely connected with the ultimate overthrow of idolatry,
and the establishment of Christ's kingdom in pagan lands; the
good resulting from his agency will appear too great for human
language to describe, or the human mind to comprehend.
In pursuing the object which was so dear to his heart, he was
particularly aware, that he depended on the cordial assistance of
the Christian community. The influence of a man in any station,
especially in one that is public, and very difficult, may be increas-
ed in a degree above computation by being skilfully united with the
influence of others. We are social beings, and are mutually de-
pendent. Let human agency in any case be completely insulated,
and it can have no efficiency. We must act together. What is
deficient in one man, is to be supplied by others, who, though not
superior to him in the general attributes of character, may be able
to afford him the counsel and aid which he needs. Mr. Evarts
successfully availed himself of this principle. Who was ever more
unassuming; or more free from that self-sufficiency, which makes
a man reluctant to acknowledge himself indebted to the judgment
or foresight of others? Who ever came nearer to a full compli-
ance with the direction of the Apostle, that, in lowliness of mind,
each should esteem others better than himself? His truly modest
and humble disposition, joined with his deep solicitude that every
WOL. W. 25 -
290 S E R M O N () N T H E D EATH
thing should be done in the best manner, rendered him very
desirous of counsel and assistance from his brethren, and heartily
willing to own himself under obligation to them, even where it
was evident that he himself possessed the highest degree of
wisdom.
Dut while he looked to his fellow Christians for counsel and
assistance, it conduced still more to his success, that he sought
help of God. In a manner far removed from all extravagance,
he believed in the efficacy of prayer. And his belief was ground-
ed on the best possible reasons — the immutable promise of God,
and the actual course of his providence. The devout supplica-
tions which he and his associates in office presented to God in all
their meetings for business, together with the monthly, and week-
ly, and daily prayers of the great body of Christians in this land,
and in other lands, have undoubtedly exerted a higher and more
efficacious influence, than any other means, in promoting the
spread of the gospel. Without the spirit of prayer, and the
blessing of God which it secures, other efforts would have proved
abortive. Suppose prayer had been omitted, and the time spent
in this duty by the officers and members of the Board, by minis-
ters, and all the friends of missions, had been spent in any other
way; what would have been the consequence, but a total failure
of the missionary enterprise 7 All our exertions would have effect-
ed nothing; or I might say, no proper exertions would have been
made. Judging by the word of God, we cannot doubt, that
sincere, fervent prayer, really does more, though by an unseen
influence, towards accomplishing the great objects of benevolence,
than all human endeavors beside. For what can human endeav-
ors do, without the help of God? And how can that help be
obtained, except by prayer 7
Thus I have noticed those attributes of character and other
circumstances, which contributed to the usefulness of the beloved
and honored man, who has closed his earthly labors.
Among the many useful lessons which this subject is suited to
teach, I can suggest only the following.
1. We see how Christians may grow in grace and become emi-
nently holy.
of JEREMIAH Ev ARTs. 291
Here I shall address myself particularly to those young men
who are coming forward to labor in the cause of Christ. Our de-
parted friend attained to eminent holiness; and why may not
you? What advantages had he to grow in grace, which are not
within your reach 7 What motives urged him to diligence in the
service of God, which does not urge you ? What divine assis-
tance did he obtain, which you may not obtain in the same way,
and in the same measure ? As God has provided for you the
same inspired volume, the same Sabbath, the same throne of
grace, the same salutary discipline of his providence, and the
same influences of his Spirit; why may you not attain to the same
degree of holiness :
The employment of Mr. Evarts was unquestionably among the
most powerful causes of his growth in piety. He was active in
doing good — was continually consulting and laboring for the sal-
vation of men. This brought into lively exercise all the pious
affections of his heart, and so contributed to increase them. And
if he was occasionally so engrossed with his great object as to
forget himself; his sanctification, instead of being impeded on that
account, was so much the more advanced. If a Christian wishes
to grow in grace, let him engage, with all his heart, in Some be-,
nevolent and pious work. As far as may be, let him choose his
calling with a view to this important end. At the present day,
there is a great variety of ways in which good may be done.
There can be no lack of opportunity to any. Let every Christian
then, be devoted to some work of benevolence. And if he aspires
to improve his character in the highest degree; let him be active
in such a way, as will require him to exercise zeal and fortitude,
to practise self-denial and endure sufferings. This is the way,
and the only way, to rise high in spiritual attainments. If then
we covet the best gifts of heaven, let us use the right means to
obtain them. If it is our desire to mortify sin, and to cultivate a
spirit of elevated piety; let us engage with ardor in works of
piety. And let us take care to pursue a course, which will not
only be favorable to the good dispositions which we wish to cherish,
but directly opposed to the sinful propensities and habits which we
292 SERMON ON THE DEATH
wish to overcome. Are we conscious of culpable indolence 2
Then let us do good in a way which will require diligent personal
effort. Have we an inordinate love of money : Then let us be
frequent and liberal in our contributions, and so diminish those
treasures which are the idols of our hearts. And if any are ex-
posed to feelings of vanity in consequence of their making dona-
tions, which are public and honorable; let them abound also in
private charities, not letting their left hand know what their right
hand doeth. If it has been our habit to treat ourselves softly and
delicately, and to make our own gratification a special object of
pursuit, and if in consequence of this, we are deficient in the
more manly, noble virtues; then let us prefer services which are
somewhat severe, and never start back from any hardship or
danger which may meet us in the path of duty. If our hearts
are prone to indulge feelings of distrust in regard to the perfec-
tions or the providence of God; it will be of particular importance
to us to pursue a course, which will often compel us to give up
every ground of confidence but the promise and faithfulness of God,
and to rely on him alone for the supply of our wants, the relief of
our distresses, and the success of our undertakings. Now it is
obvious that such a work as that in which our departed friend was
enlisted, is eminently fitted to promote the divine life. Any one
who, from pure motives, makes a full surrender of himself to
the cause of missions, and, either at home or abroad, devotes his
talents and his life to the Salvation of the heathen, will be under
the best advantages to grow in the spirit of piety. And it will
doubtless appear in the great day, when all characters, and all
which has helped to form them, shall be revealed, that the holiness
which eminent Saints in all periods of the church have attained,
was owing in no small degree, under God, to the exertions they
made and the sufferings they endured for the welfare of their
fellow mem.
2. We here learn that sincere devotion to God and diligence in
doing good, are followed by the most happy results. Great peace
have they who love God’s law. They who forsake all for Christ
shall receive an hundred fold even in the present time. Our
O F J E R EMIA. H. E. W. A. R. T.S. 293
deceased brother found this true in his own case. He enjoyed
the cordial affection and confidence not only of the Prudential
Committee and the American Board, but of all the friends of
missions and the friends of Christ. And he had the respect of
the public generally — not only those who agreed with him in
opinion and feeling, but of those who differed from him; not only
of those who favored the interest he sought, but of those who
opposed it. In addition to all this, he had the pleasure of being
continually conversant with objects which were gratifying to his
benevolent and pious heart; and the pleasure of witnessing unex-
pected success in the missionary cause. He was also favored
with a quiet mind, with the consolations of hope, and with many
tokens of the divine presence and approbation. He was blessed
of God in his family, and in his own soul. And when we come
to the closing scene of his life, we may well exclaim — “Mark
the perfect man, and behold the upright; for the end of that
man is peace.” The prevailing state of his mind may be learnt
in some measure from the following paper, which he wrote, Feb.
27, 1831, it being the Sabbath, half past eleven, A. M. He was
on board the ship Fama, in sight of Abaco, one of the Bahama
Islands, twelve days after he sailed from Boston for Cuba.
“Daily, and many times a day, I have been disposed, I trust,
to acknowledge the goodness of God, and to consecrate myself
anew to his service. I had thought of making a formal and
written consecration of myself to the Lord this forenoon; but my
mind is so weighed down by my feeble body, that I can write
nothing, except of the simplest kind, and cannot adequately dwell
upon the amazing theme of being a servant of God, and of having
Him for my portion forever.” -
At half past 3, P. M., he wrote thus, “We have turned the
south-west end of Abaco. I have looked at this work of God,
which it is not likely I shall see again; — and have turned my
thoughts many times to the great and blessed Creator of all.
“Here, in this sea, I consecrate myself to God as my chief
good; — to him as my heavenly Father, infinitely kind and tender
towards his children; – to him as my kind and merciful Redeem-
25*
294 SER. M. O N O N T BIE D E A TEI
er, by whose blood and merits alone I do hope for salvation; — to
him as the beneficent renewer and sanctifier of the saved. I im-
plore the forgiveness of my numerous and aggravated transgres-
sions; and I ask that my remaining time and strength may be
employed for the glory of God, and for the good of his creatures.”
“Whether I make my grave on the land, or in the ocean, I
submit cheerfully to Him. It will be as He pleases; and so it
should be. I pray that the circumstances of my death, be it
Sooner or later, may be favorable to religion; that I may not de-
ceive myself in the great concerns of my soul; — that I may de-
part in peace, and be received, through infinite mercy, to the ever-
lasting kingdom of my Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ. Amen.”
In the near prospect of death he showed a most happy tran-
quillity. He had that peace of God which passeth all understand-
ing. Who would not think himself rewarded for the toils and
sufferings of a whole life, by what this faithful servant of Christ
was permitted to enjoy just before his decease, when God caused
so wonderful a light to shine upon his soul. He was at that time
in a kind, Christian family in Charleston, S. C., but far removed
from his beloved partner and children, whom he had just before
particularly and most devoutly commended to God. Seeming to
be nearly exhausted, he very tenderly expressed his affection for
his Saviour. . . . . . . Soon after, he burst forth with expres–
sions of rapture which cannot be described. “Praise him, praise
him, praise him in a way which you know not of.” And when it
was said, “You will soon see Jesus as he is, and will then know
how to praise him; ” he exclaimed—“Wonderful, wonderful,
wonderful glory ! We cannot comprehend—wonderful glory ! I
will praise, I will praise him . . . . Wonderful—glory—Jesus
reigns.”
This was no vision of enthusiasm — no feverish excitement of
passion—no delirium of a heated brain. What man was ever
better shielded, than he, against mental delusion, and all undue
excitement 7 At that time in particular, a variety of circum-
stances which might be related, proved beyond any doubt, that he
was perfectly rational and self-possessed. That which he experi-
O E J E R EMIA EI E W A R T S . 295
enced was doubtless like what apostles and martyrs and eminent
saints have often experienced in a dying hour, when; through the
special influence of the Holy Spirit, they have had clear views of
the glory of their Saviour, and of their eternal inheritance, and
have earnestly desired to be absent from the body, and present
with the Lord. May God give me, in my last moments, what
our dear brother enjoyed when that vision of glory burst upon
his view, and I will gladly bid farewell to all that the world con-
tains.
And what think you, must be the enjoyment of such a Chris-
tian in heaven, with a capacity so enlarged, with the powers of
reason so active, with affections and desires so pure, what must
be his enjoyment in the presence of him whom his soul loveth, in
the society of angels and saints, and in the Society of no small
number, brought to that happy world by means of his faithful
labors Oh what rest after wearisome labor, and toil, and con-
flict with sin Oh! what quietness and ease, after so much
sickness and pain' Oh what blessedness, to be free forever
from the feeling and the sight of moral pollution, to be like the
Saviour, and to drink of the river of pleasure which flows through
the heavenly Paradise. -
To the mourning widow and children, there are unfailing sources
of consolation. They have sympathizing friends; a present
and merciful God; the great and precious promises of his word ;
and the throne of grace. They have the happiness of knowing
that Jesus reigns, and that all things will work together for good
to them who love God, and are called according to his purpose.
These are the rich consolations which afflicted Christians com-
monly enjoy, and they are sufficient to quiet the agitated breast,
and to soothe every grief. But the mourning relatives in this case
have consolations which are not common. When a man even a
good man dies, how seldom is it the fact, that he leaves a charac-
ter entirely unblemished. And if his friends begin to speak
of him in the language of respect and honor, they are soon
checked by the recollection of something which marred his
reputation. They do indeed cherish a cordial esteem and love
296 S E R M O N ON TEIE DEATH
for his amiable and virtuous qualities; but they regret that their
thoughts cannot range with delight over his whole character and
life. But such was not the fact in regard to our departed friend.
The sorrow which the relatives feel for the loss of one so dear to --" "
them, is not embittered by the recollection of any noticeable
failings in his character, or any palpable errors in his conduct.
'heirs is the happiness of knowing, that the beloved partner,
parent, and friend, who has been removed from their sight, was
not only adorned with a combination of excellences, but was re-
markably free from blemishes. They must ever regard it as a
precious blessing, that they have been so closely allied to one,
whose example was so pure, and so attractive. And they must
ever find the events of his private and public life, a subject
of delightful and improving reflection. What a rich inherit-
ance to his bereaved family While they remember the great
goodness of God in this respect, their hearts will overflow with
gratitude, the bitterness of their grief will pass away.
To the members of the Prudential Committee and other Officers
of the Board, this occasion is connected with so many subjects of
intense interest, that I know not where to begin or where to end.
It must, dear brethren, be a source of the sincerest satisfaction
to us, that the chief agency in directing and executing the mo-
mentous business of our Foreign Missions, was committed to a
man who possessed such qualifications. After twenty years in-
timate acquaintance with him, and after having been long asso-
ciated with him in conducting the concerns of the Board, we can
give our united testimony to his uprightness and fidelity, and can
say of him as truly as of any man, “that in simplicity and godly
sincerity, not by fleshly wisdom, but by the grace of God, he had
his conversation in the world.”
The death of such a man at such a time, we feel to be a very
afflictive and distressing event. But though in itself so afflictive,
it maturally suggests subjects, which are fitted to awaken lively
gratitude to God, and to encourage us in the work of spreading
the gospel. For we cannot but remember, that God in mercy
gave what he has now taken away. And is it a small matter
OF J E R EMIA H E W A RTS. 297
that, at the critical period when our Foreign Mission was com-
menced, and during the first years of its progress, divine provi-
dence raised up such men as Worcester and Evarts, to be the
chief agents in the work : The services of such a man, as our
late Secretary, must be important to any cause, at any time.
But the work which the friends of missions undertook twenty
years ago, was a work of vast magnitude and difficulty. A
little temporary zeal and a few desultory efforts could accomplish
nothing: There was a necessity for a system of operations,
wisely planned, and ably and perseveringly executed. The un-
dertaking called for men of large views, sound judgment and
devoted piety — men trained to Sober deliberation and efficient
action, and not likely to fail either in concerting or in executing
measures; — men of so much fire as to warm the hearts of others,
and yet so cool and discreet, as to secure their confidence;—
men too, who could bring weight of character to the work, in-
stead of depending on the work for character. Now that God
in his providence raised up such men as the new and arduous
enterprise required, and that he continued one of them ten years,
and the other twenty, as principal agents of the Board, and with
a success, which has filled the Christian world with admiration
and joy; — this, brethren, we must record as among the most
encouraging tokens of God’s special favor. Shall we then faint
under the stroke of his hand 2 Shall we give way to distrust
and fear, and abandon the cause of missions : Shall we even
pursue that cause with less zeal, or less hope of success : No.
It is enough for us that, although good men die, the Lord lives,
and is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever. The cause to
which we are devoted is his cause. And we go forward in our
endeavors to promote it, with full reliance on his promised aid.
We are confident, that he who has all power in heaven and
earth, will be présent with us in every emergency; that he will
raise up men for every post of usefulness; that he will crown with
success whatever is done for the enlargement of his church, and
finally cause the gospel to triumph in every place.
To conclude. We have been calling to mind the piety and
298 SERM ON ON THE DEATH OF JEREMIA H E V ARTS.
usefulness of a fellow mortal, and have been cqnsidering him as
a suitable pattern for our imitation. The contemplation of so
excellent a character will, I hope, conduce to our improvement.
But be it remembered, there is a character far more exalted.
There is an excellence and glory, infinitely surpassing all that is
human. It shines forth in this fair creation. It shines forth
especially in the face of Jesus Christ. Now while we look with
delight upon human excellence, let us not close our eyes to that
which is divine. While we gaze upon a dim taper, let us not
be blind to the light of day. Are we filled with admiration at
the endowments of man who is of yesterday? What adoring
thoughts then should we have of the high and lofty One who in-
habiteth eternity / Before that great and glorious Being, the
greatest of men, and the greatest of angels, are as the small dust
of the balance. The brightest excellence we behold in creation is
only a ray from the inexhaustible fountain of light. Have we
confidence in a child of earth, because he evinces a good de-
gree of intelligence and faithfulness : What unwavering trust
then should we repose in God, whose understanding is infinite,
and whose faithfulness never fails | And finally; do emotions of
gratitude rise in our hearts, while we recollect the benevolent
actions which a feeble, imperfect man performed during a few,
fleeting years : How much warmer, nobler gratitude should
glow within us towards that infinite Being, from whom cometh all
the goodness and all the usefulness of his creatures, and all the
happiness of earth and heaven; whose love has a length and
breadth and depth and height passing all understanding; and
who is So great in power and so excellent in working, that he can,
in a moment, by a single act of his will, accomplish a good, which
created beings can never comprehend. “Blessed, then, be the
Lord God of Israel, who only doeth wondrous things; and
blessed be his glorious name forever ; and let the whole earth be
filled with his glory. Amen.”
A S E R M 0 N.
DELIVERED AT THE FUNERAL OF REV. EBENEZER PORTER, D. D., PRESIDENT AND
PROFESSOR IN THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, ANDOWER, APRIL 11, 1834.
John 17:4. —I HAVE GLORIFMED THEE ON THE EARTH; I HAVE FINISHED THE
WORK WEIICEI TEIOU GAVEST ME TO DO.
THE work assigned to our Saviour was immeasurably greater
and more difficult, than was ever in any other instance assigned
to man. But he accomplished it perfectly. From the beginning
to the close of his life, he never performed an action, never
uttered a word, never had a thought or emotion, which varied
from the will of God, the perfect standard of right. He unceas-
ingly loved God with all his heart. He was chargeable with no
waste of intellectual or moral faculties. There was nothing in
his youth or manhood, nothing in his public or private life, noth-
ing in the most Secret movements of his heart, which was not
perfectly pleasing to God. In the whole frame of his mind, he
was so pure and holy, that the most powerful temptations pro-
duced no irregular thought or feeling. “The prince of this world
came and found nothing in him” — no pride, no selfishness, no
depravity in any form or degree. His object in coming into the
world was to save that which was lost. He came to redeem sin-
ners from the curse of the law, by being made a curse for them.
And how was he straitened till this work was accomplished
300 SER. M. O N ON TEII; D E AT H
His feelings recoiled at the prospect of drinking the cup which
his Father put into his hand; but his recoiling was that of a pure
and holy Soul, and, was accompanied with an entire readiness to
do and suffer what the will of God and the salvation of men
required. In the garden his agony was such as to produce pros-
tration and bloody sweat; but his heart was perfectly submissive,
and in the midst of his distress he could say, “Not my will, but
thine be done.” Thus, through labor and suffering, he pro-
ceeded to Calvary; and there on the cross, in anguish of body
and spirit, under the heavy burden of our sins, he finished his
work.
Far be it from me to liken any man, even the most diligent
and faithful, to this holy Saviour. Let any Christian on earth
compare his life with the life of Jesus, and what can be the re-
sult, but shame and self-condemnation ? How is it with him who
stands highest among the Saints on earth, as to attainments in
holiness and diligence in the service of God? Has no part of
his time been wasted in unlawful pursuits or indulgences? Have
there been no years, or days, in which he has forgotten God and
disobeyed his commands 7 Have even his best actions been free
from sin 7 How does every just view of God’s perfect law spoil
our fancied goodness, and instead of leaving any room for self-
complacency, lead us to abhor ourselves and repent in dust and
ashes . Of the most eminent Christians it is true, that they
have not already attained, and are not already perfect. They
fall below not only the demands of God’s spiritual law, but their
own desires and aims. In many respects, what they would, they
do not ; and what they would not, that they do. And when from
the bed of sickness, and from the judgment seat, they take a
review of their life, they will be astonished to see how little of
their proper work they accomplished, and will acknowledge that
they were always, even in their best estate, monuments of the
forbearance and mercy of God.
And yet Christians are in reality followers of Jesus. They
have a degree of that holiness, which he had in perfection. They
begin to love and obey that law, which he loved and obeyed
O F D R . P O R. T. E. R. . 301
constantly and entirely. And they begin to possess that moral
purity, which he possessed without mixture. Thus having a real
though a partial likeness to Christ, and truly following him,
though at a distance and with faltering steps, they do, in their
humble measure, glorify God, and accomplish the object of their
existence. Through the constant aids of the Holy Spirit, they
So far finish the work which God has given them to do, that they
are, through Christ, accepted of him, and, as good and faithful
servants, admitted to the rewards of grace. In this qualified
sense, the Apostle said, when the time of his departure was at
hand, “I have fought a good fight, I have finished my course, I
have kept the faith;” though he had always been conscious that
he was not yet perfect, and the highest point he ever reached
was to forget the things which were behind, and to press forward
to higher attainments, earnestly laboring after perfection in holi-
mess. In this qualified sense, our beloved brother, whose funeral
services we are now called to attend, could, we doubt not, have
adopted the words of Jesus: “I have glorified thee on the earth,
I have finished the work thou gavest me to do.”
Dr. Porter was born at Cornwall, Conn., Oct. 8, 1772. At
the age of seven he went with his father's family to Vermont,
where he remained till he commenced his preparation for a
public profession. He was graduated at Dartmouth College,
1792. While a member of college, and through the whole period
of his childhood and youth, he was remarkable for his regular and
sober habits. During the time that he spent with his father, he
acquired a taste for agricultural and mechanical labor, which
proved of immense benefit to his health in after life. He had
impressions while young, of the importance and necessity of re-
ligion; but at what time he first gave evidence of decided piety,
I have not been informed. After pursuing theological study
under the direction of two distinguished ministers in Connecticut,
Dr. Edwards and Dr. Smalley, he entered on the business of the
gospel ministry, and was ordained as pastor of the church in
Washington, Conn., in Oct., 1796. His pastoral relation to that
church was dissolved in Dec., 1811, with a view to his accepting
VOL. W. 26
302 S ER. M. O N O N THE DEATEI
the appointment he had received to the Professorship of Sacred
Rhetoric in this Seminary.
In common with other Christians, Dr. Porter stood in a variety
of social relations. It is hardly necessary to say, that he sus-
tained these relations and performed the various duties involved
in them, to the satisfaction and profit of others. It ought never
to be forgotten, that a good private character, by which I mean
a kind and amiable disposition, and upright and blameless con-
duct in domestic and social life, is essential to prepare a man for
any important public station. Accordingly, when the Apostle
undertakes to describe the qualifications which should be found in
a Christian minister, he insists particularly upon the importance
of the domestic and social virtues. And sorrowful experience
has often shown what a fruitful source of evil it is for a man to
be put into the ministry, whose disposition is selfish, proud, re-
sentful, or peevish, or who is wanting in probity, or fairness, or
any of the qualities which constitute a good private character.
The case of our departed brother happily illustrates the peculiar
value of an upright, generous and conciliatory disposition, not
only as it renders a man agreeable and useful in private, but as
it combines its influence with higher attributes of character, to
qualify him for usefulness in the most public station.
As a minister of the gospel, Dr. Porter had peculiar excel-
lences. He possessed that combination of intellectual and moral
qualities, which constitutes a permanently useful preacher. His
understanding was lucid and discriminating ; his imagination
fertile and remarkably chaste; and his heart susceptible of
strong and tender emotion. He was always serious and affec-
tionate ; and none who attended his ministry could doubt, that
the principle which governed him was love to Christ and to the
souls of men. His habit of reasoning was logical and convincing;
and his taste, uncommonly pure and classical. He felt an utter
repugnancy to all affected grandeur and floridness of language,
to everything which Savored of pomp or ostentation. His style
was simple, meat, perspicuous, and dignified, suited to convey to
his hearers the clear and orderly conceptions of his own culti-
O F D R . P O R T E R . 303
wated mind. He was endued with an instinctive and delicate
discernment of what was just and proper, whether in thought or
expression. In respect both to the words and phrases he em-
ployed, and to their arrangement and sense, he always spoke in
pure English. Where is the preacher or writer, whose style is
more entirely free from everything provincial, pedantic, or ambigu-
ous, or exhibits a more happy union of simplicity and ornament 7
As a speaker, he had many excellences, and few faults. His
sermons were doctrinal and practical. They set forth the truths
of religion in their Scriptural form, and carried them out into
their practical uses. His appeals to the conscience and heart
were direct and faithful, and often awakening and impressive.
A good measure of success attended his ministry, both in the
conversion of sinners and the advancement of believers in holi-
ness; which last was as real an object with him as the former.
He lived in a time of revivals, and had a marked agency in pro-
moting them.
In February, 1812, he was introduced into the Bartlett Pro-
fessorship of Sacred Rhetoric in this Institution, the office having
been vacated by the resignation of the Rev. Dr. Griffin. Dr.
Porter's previous acquaintance with the duties and trials of the
pastoral office, together with his intellectual and moral qualifica-
tions, fitted him to enter, with pleasing prospects of success, on
the department of labor assigned to him. In the various duties
which fell to him in the Institution, he had ample use for all his
talents and acquisitions; for all his accuracy, and taste, and
judgment; for all his activity, patience, and skill. His useful-
ness was answerable to his qualifications, and to his habitual dili-
gence. Any man who takes into view the good which he accom-
plished by his instructions in the Seminary, and the works which
he published in relation to the business of his department, and
considers the intrinsic value of those works, and the high estima-
tion in which they are held, will see that he possessed powers
and acquisitions of no ordinary character, and that his time here
did not pass away without substantial results.
It was a matter of conscience with Dr. Porter to bend his
304 - S E. R. M. O N O N T H E D E A TH
efforts, first of all, to the appropriate objects of his own depart-
ment; secondarily, to the general interests of the Institution;
and then to the Welfare of the churches, and the success of Chris-
tianity at home and abroad. He was well aware that the per-
mament usefulness of this theological establishment could not be
secured alone, but was essentially connected with the general
prosperity of the church, and the flourishing state of our various
public institutions. To these institutions he had a strong and
enlightened attachment. And he not only felt an interest in
them, but was always ready to aid them both by his personal ser–
vices and by pecuniary contributions. He gave liberally to char-
itable institutions generally. But he contributed more particular-
ly to this Seminary, and the American Education Society. In
each of these he founded two scholarships, besides the very gene-
rous aid which he afforded to the Porter Rhetorical Society in
the purchase of its library. To the American Education Society
he also bequeathed the greater part of his property.
In every part of the business which he undertook, he evinced
a remarkable degree of practical wisdom. His judgment on
questions of importance, was seldom mistaken. And it was not
uncommon for those who were associated with him to distrust their
own opinion, as soon as they found it different from his.
Dr. Porter possessed the peculiar qualifications which are requi-
site in a presiding officer. He had kindness of disposition, self-
control, intelligence, and decision. He exhibited politeness with-
out affectation, dignity without pride, and strict adherence to rules
of order, without pertinacity. With these qualifications, he was
often called to preside on public occasions. And when the office
of President was established in this Institution, he was at once
selected by his colleagues, as well as by the guardians of the Insti-
tution, to fill that office. The manner in which he presided, both
here and elsewhere, was always unexceptionable and satisfactory.
He united two qualities, which seldom exist together so emi-
mently as they did in him; — ability to devise great plans of use-
fulness, and ability to carry forward those plans to a complete
accomplishment. Some men, possessing warmth of imagination
O F D R. PO R. T. E. R. . 305
without judgment, and zeal without discretion or patience, are
very fruitful in devising plans of benevolence, but are inclined to
leave the labor of execution to other hands. Not so with Dr.
Porter. He was the man, whose wisdom was sought in laying
out plans of usefulness; and he was the man, to whom the full
execution of them, however difficult, could be safely entrusted.
Dr. Porter was a man of exemplary modesty and humility.
Who ever had reason to suppose that he thought of himself more
highly than he ought to think? that in any respect he over-rated
his talents, his services, or his piety 7 When and where did he
expect an honor, which others were not ready to bestow upon
him, or manifest the feeling that he was not held high enough
among his brethren : It was far otherwise. He was so evident-
ly unassuming and humble, that, although he was in all Societies,
among the first in point of influence, no one felt the least uneasi-
ness that he was esteemed so highly.
At the present day, when there is so much love of prečmi-
nence, and so much strife for influence and promotion, it is a
happy thing to find a man of high place in the Christian commu-
nity, who is clothed with humility; a disinterested, straight-for-
ward, and guileless man, who cares less for his own things than
for the things which are Christ's; who will begin and end a great
undertaking without any scheme for his own interest or honor;
who will say just what he means, and do just what he says. Such
was our departed brother. -
Dr. Porter was a zealous promoter of revivals of religion. His
Letters on Revivals show how deeply he was impressed with the
importance of the subject, and what he considered the character-
istics of a true revival, and the proper means of promoting it.
On this subject he was well qualified to speak, having been as-
Sociated with the most able and successful ministers in promoting
the revivals which took place during the first part of the present
century. The above-mentioned Letters, in which he collects and
arranges facts so skilfully, and reasons from them So judiciously
and conclusively, are adapted to permanent usefulness in the
church.
26*
306 SER M O N O N T H E D E AT TH
It was one of his most remarkable characteristics, that he gave
no offence. In all his conduct, whether in public or private,
he was so free from Self-importance and dogmatism, he showed
so delicate a regard to the opinions and feelings of others, and
when he differed from them, made known the difference with so
much respect and kindness, and was always so cool and delib-
erate, that I know not that he ever wounded the feelings of any
good man. In this attribute of character, how widely different
was he from some, who are possessed of great activity, and are
capable of accomplishing much good, who yet have such faults
in their temper and manners, that they are sure to hurt the feel-
ings and excite the prejudices of others, and sooner or later to
destroy their own influence. The Apostle Paul, for the sake of
doing good, took special care to give no offence to any class of
men, especially good men. In things not affecting the great inter-
ests of religion, he was pliable and conciliatory. As far as he
could without unfaithfulness to his Lord, he became “all things to
all men,” for the very purpose of removing stumbling blocks and
winning souls to Christ. Why is it that any at the present day
forget the example of the apostles and instead of doing all in their
power, as he did, to avoid giving offence, and to conciliate those
of an opposite party, seem rather to take pleasure in vexing them,
and even to make it an object to provoke their resentment, and
drive them to the bitterest hostility. When we witness such
things, we are sometimes ready to exclaim, where is that love
which Jesus enjoined upon his followers, and which the Apostle
describes as the most excellent of all graces; that love which suf-
fereth long and is kind; which seeketh not her own; which doth
not behave itself unseemly; which thinketh no evil; which hopeth
all things, and endureth all things : Where is that wisdom which
is from above, which is pure, and peaceable, and gentle, and easy
to be entreated 7 Where is the dove which rested upon the head
of Jesus, as an emblem of the sweet, gentle spirit of his relig-
ion ? This was a subject which lay near the heart of our depart-
ed brother. He ardently loved the truths of Christianity, and
equally loved its spirit. He regarded a bitter. violent temper,
O F D R. . P ORTER, . 307
though exercised professedly in defence of the gospel, as real
hostility to the gospel. Both his judgment and heart adopted the
maxim of the Apostle, that “the wrath of man worketh not the
righteousness of God.” He had such meekness and gentleness,
as showed that he had been with Jesus. Influenced by such
feelings, he gave no offence to any of the contending parties of
the day. A decided and unreserved declaration of his opinion,
even on the most controverted subjects, was received with candor
by those who differed from him. Thus, instead of promoting
alienation and strife among brethren, he used his endeavors to
promote feelings of forbearance and kindness, and in this way to
remove one of the chief causes of collision, and to bring about a
more general harmony among the friends of Christ. In this way
he conscientiously fulfilled the duty to which he was bound by his
own disposition as well as by his inauguration promise—“on all
occasions to consult the peace of the churches.”
Dr. Porter was far removed from the spirit of a partizan in
religion. He belonged to no sect. Properly speaking, a sect in
religion is a number of persons who separate themselves from the
general body of Christians, and maintain some opinion different
from the prevailing opinion. We know what are and what have
been the doctrines of evangelical Christians generally in this
country. We know still more specifically what system of belief
has prevailed for the last fifty years among the ministers and
churches of New England. These ministers and churches surely
are not to be regarded as a party. When, therefore, I say that
Dr. Porter was no partizan, my meaning will not be misunderstood.
He adhered to the views of Christian doctrine generally held
among us; the views exhibited in the writings of Edwards,
Bellamy, Brainerd, Smalley, and Dwight. These authors are
not sectarian. And Dr. Porter, who honestly embraced and
ably defended these views, and whose religious and ministerial
character was formed under their influence, was as free as any
man living from the spirit of sectarianism. This Institution, in
which he was more than twenty years an instructor, is in no sense
a sectarian institution. It was founded on the most liberal cath-
308 SERMON ON THE DEATH
olic principles; and in conformity with those principles, it actu-
ally received and gratuitously educated pious young men of six or
seven different denominations. The creed appointed for the
Professors is not a sectarian creed. It was in fact formed as a
matter of compromise between men who agreed in the great doc-
trines of Christianity, but differed in the modes of thinking on
minor points. Two sets of founders, previously unknown to each
other, had devoted a part of their substance to the establishment
of two Theological Seminaries; but, on becoming acquainted with
each other’s designs, were desirous of uniting their funds in one
great Institution; and, for the Sake of such a union, were willing,
on each side, to do all they could, consistently with a good con-
science, to meet the views of those on the other side. Influenced
by these kind, Christian feelings, they found that the difficulties in
the way of union gradually subsided. After a free interchange
of thought, and many sincere efforts, and many fervent prayers to
the Father of lights, those concerned on both sides became entirely
satisfied, and unanimously adopted the creed as it stands in the
Constitution of the Seminary,” with a special provision, that the
theological opinions of the Professors should correspond with this
Confession of Faith, and that if any one of them should cease to
believe and teach according to this symbol, he should cease to be
a Professor. Dr. Porter was a hearty believer in the doctrines
contained in this creed, and all his instructions, both public and
private, were in conformity with it. His theological opinions
entirely corresponded with the intentions and the express requisi-
tions of the founders. I say this advisedly, having had the most
intimate acquaintance with all the facts in the case. And this my
humble testimony I Solemnly record ; SO that, as far as Dr. Por-
ter’s views of religion are known, there may never, in future
times, be a doubt respecting what the founders meant by the creed,
or respecting the theological character which they intended the
Professors should sustain.
Dr. Porter’s belief was firm and uniform. He was indeed far
removed from pertinacity and bigotry, and was ready to adopt any
% See the Additional Statutes, which make a part of the Constitution.
OF D R. PORTER. s 309
opinion which was well supported by argument. But he had no
fickleness, no fondness for what is new, and no tendency to be
weary of an opinion, because it had long been held. As he did
not adopt his opinions in haste, he was not in haste to change
them. But the circumstance which most of all fixed him in the
belief of the common doctrines of evangelical religion, was, that
the influence of these doctrines was mixed with his devout exer-
cises, and so the truth of them became a matter of personal
experience, as well as of divine revelation. It was this which so
wedded him to the great principles of religion, that no wind of
doctrine could turn him one way or another. Amid all the
fluctuations of the present times, he remained steadfast and
immovable. And while he was so firmly attached to the cause of
truth, he was alive to the danger of error. We well know with
what concern and grief he looked upon any speculations on the
subject of religion which he considered unscriptural or adventur-
ous, especially upon anything like “removing the land-marks,” as
he often expressed it, and how painfully apprehensive he was
of results which would be injurious to the interests of the church.
It has often been alleged by those who are called liberal, that a
steady, uniform belief of a particular set of doctrines is utterly in-
compatible with free inquiry, and with progressin knowledge. But if
the doctrines believed are true, free inquiry and progress in knowl-
edge are not only compatible with a steady, uniform belief, but di-
rectly conducive to it. And does not the opposite opinion generally
arise from the fact, that those who entertain it have been vacillating
in their own creed, and have formed a skeptical habit of mind Ž If
a man who believes divine truth makes progress in knowledge ; will
he therefore renounce the truth 2 Did Paul or Peter change his
belief in the doctrines of Christianity in consequence of growing
in knowledge 7 When we become Christians, we begin cordially
to believe the doctrines of revelation. But our faith at first wants
clearness, enlargement and strength. And these wants are to be
supplied by increasing our knowledge. By this we clear away
obscurity from our views of those doctrines which we have
embraced; we become more fully acquainted with their nature
310 SERMON ON THE DEATH
and their mutual relations, with their length and breadth and
depth and height. Thus our faith grows in strength and assurance,
and in its power to Sanctify and comfort the Soul. It was so with
our departed brother. He knew the truth by experience. He
knew God. He knew Jesus Christ. He knew the presence and
power of the Holy Spirit. If he was mistaken here, then our
preaching is vain, and our faith is vain, and all our efforts to pro-
mote experimental religion, and to train up evangelical ministers,
are vain; and all the labors and prayers of the Christian world
are folly and madness, and will issue in disappointment and shame.
But he was not mistaken. The great principles of theology
which he believed, are the principles of eternal truth. The more
they are examined by honest and candid men, and the more they
are opposed by the wicked, the more clearly will it be seen that
they are the doctrines of God’s word. If the Bible stands, they
will stand. Nor will it, I think, be long before the great question
at issue among disputants will be, not whether the doctrines com-
monly called orthodox, are contained in the Bible, but whether the
Bible itself is true. Let it come to this. Let Socinians, Pela-
gians, Neologists and Infidels be on one side, and evangelical
Christians on the other. The sooner it comes to this, the better.
Then we shall know where we are, and who our antagonists are,
and what is the meaning of their words. There will be no more
fighting in the dark. The battle will be in full day light, on
the open field — direct, fair, honorable, and heaven and earth will
be witnesses of the strife and the victory.
It would be difficult to name a man of more unquestionable piety,
than Dr. Porter. The evidence he gave of this was the evidence
to which the sacred Scriptures attach the highest importance;
that is, a life devoted to the service of God, and regulated by the
precepts of the gospel. His pious affections had both strength
and ardor, though they were remarkably sedate and rational. I
know not whether he was more distant from extravagance and
enthusiasm, or from coldness and indifference. His religion was a
steady, active, holy principle, and not a passionate excitement.
He “walked with God.” His enjoyments in religion, whether in
OF D R . P OR T E R . 311
health or in sickness, were tranquil and uniform, rather than
rapturous. He endured his long-continued infirmities, and the
distressing diseases with which he was frequently attacked, with
an equanimity and patience almost unparalleled. I never knew a
man who accomplished so much and enjoyed so much, with health
so often interrupted and feeble, and with sickness and pains so
severe and exhausting.
He had from the beginning a deep and habitual impression of
his responsibility as an officer in this Institution. For his pupils
he cherished a sincere and paternal affection, and was solicitous
for their improvement in all respects, especially for their growth in
grace. In his conversation with his colleagues, and in his letters
to them when absent, he frequently and with great earnestness
expressed his conviction, that the promotion of elevated piety in
the Seminary was of the first importance, and that whatever else
was neglected, we ought never to intermit our labors and prayers
for this. The Lord grant that all whose duty it will be to advance
the welfare of this Institution, may keep in mind the paramount
importance of vital godliness, regarding it as the life of the Semi-
mary, of the ministry, and of the Christian church.
Brethren and friends, a man has been taken from us of rare
excellence of character, both intellectual and moral; a man
whose amiable disposition, pious example, and diligent, unremitting
services have been and will be an inestimable blessing to this
Institution, and to the cause of Christ. Our first duty, under
this afflictive dispensation, is entire submission to the only wise
God, whose ways are just and right. It is also our duty, to lift
up our Souls to him who heareth prayer, that through the help of
his Spirit we may profit by this bereavement; not forgetting to
render to him the warmest gratitude of our hearts, that he has
been pleased to continue the life and usefulness of our dear
brother for so many years. How can we look at a life so full of
activity, usefulness and enjoyment, and see it brought to a close,
without feeling a new motive to work while the day lasts. To
postpone any duty to a sick and dying bed, is infatuation. What
can a man do either for his own Soul, or for the souls of his fel-
312 SERM ON on THE DEATH OF DR. PORTER.
low men, when he is sinking under the influence of disease, and
the pains of death are getting hold upon him. As to all the great
purposes of life we may be dead long before we expire. Let us
remember this; and let us each day apply ourselves in earnest to
the work which God has given us to do. &
In this visitation of his providence, God has come near to the
bereaved and mourning widow. But she will utter no words of
complaint, and will give place to no feelings of disquietude. She
knows that God reigneth and doeth his will, and that his will is
always wise and good. May God be present with her and give
her peace.
This is a solemn and affecting scene to our respected friend, the
only surviving founder of this Institution, to whom our departed
brother for so many years sustained a relation of peculiar endear-
ment. Our prayer for him shall be, that the comforts of the
divine Spirit may cheer and support him under this affliction;
that God may still prolong his life, and health, and usefulness, and
enable him to finish his work.
As to those who have been called to part with a colleague, par-
ticularly those of us who for more than twenty years were most
happily united with him in all the labors and trials which have
here fallen to our lot, — words are not adequate to express what
we feel on this occasion. In our sorrow we might be ready to
ask; what shall we do without that long-tried and faithful friend
and colleague, who has been taken from us? But we will rather
say, “The Lord liveth and blessed be our rock; ” and pray that
his grace may be sufficient for us. *
It is well known what a high place the lamented President of
this Seminary held in the esteem and confidence of the Trustees
and Visitors, of the members of the Institution, of the many
hundreds, now engaged in the service of the church, who once
enjoyed his instructions, and of ministers and Christians far and
near. But we trust he enjoys that which is infinitely more
precious than the highest esteem and affection of man, even the
approbation of his Saviour. Blessed indeed is he, to whom the
final Judge will say: “Well done, good and faithful servant, enter
thou into the joy of thy Lord.”
A S E R M 0 N
DELIVERED 1N THE TIIEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, ANDOVER, FEB. 1, 1835, ON THE
DEATII OF HENRY LYMAN, SAMUEL MUNSON, AND OTIIERS.
Heb. 12; 11.-Now No. CHASTENING For the PRESENT SEEMETH To Be Joy
ous, BUT GRIEvous: NEVERTHELESS, AFTER WARD IT YIELDETH THE PEACE.
ABLE FRUITs of RIGHTEousNESs UNTO THEM who ARE ExERCISED
TEIEREBY.
SINCE the commencement of our academic year, we have
received the tidings of the death of five young ministers, who
were lately members of this Institution. Three of them died of
sickness in our own land, and two by the hand of violence in a
foreign land.
These awakening dispensations, dear brethren and friends, are
addressed particularly to us. And if under the influence of the
divine Spirit, we open our cars to the monitory voice of these
providences, we shall experience the blessed effects of divine chas-
tisement.
It seems proper, first of all, to apply the subject to the members
of this Institution. The young men, whose early death we have
been called to mourn, recently lived within these consecrated
walls. Here they pursued their studies. They joined with us in
our morning and evening devotions, and assembled with us in the
sanctuary to worship God, and to commemorate the dying love of
Jesus. They had entered upon the active duties of their calling,
WOL. V. 27
314 S E R M O N O N TEI E D E A TEI
One of them had just preached his first sermom, which proved to
be his last. - ſº
These affecting dispensations remind you, who are here prepar-
ing for the sacred office, that the time is short, and urge you to do
with your might whatsoever your hand findeth to do. Could
those brethren, who have so soon closed their labors on earth,
speak to you now, they would exhort you to apply yourselves in
earnest to every duty, to make the most intense efforts to fit your-
selves for your sacred calling. They would tell you, that the great-
est diligence and ardor which they ever exhibited here in pursuit of
their object, instead of being excessive, fell far below the proper
mark. I have no words to convey to your minds the impression
which I have, of the vast importance of diligence and ardor in
theological students. If you would apply yourselves to theological
study with suitable zeal, casting off all indolence, keeping the powers
of your minds fully awake, and watchfully guarding against all
hinderances —if you would all come to this — my heart swells
with joy to think what you might be, and what you might do.
Your improvements in the seminary would be double, yea, fourfold,
to what is common ; and your usefulness afterwards might be
increased in a like proportion. Even if your life should be short,
like that of those who have so soon been taken away — in that
short life, you might accomplish as much as is generally done in a
long life. And if the major part of you should be continued in
active service to the common age of ministers, who can tell the
amount of good you might accomplish for the cause of Christ :
What better use, then, can you make of these mournful dispensa-
tions, than to regard them as incitements to increased diligence
and zeal in the appropriate occupation of theological students—
diligence proportioned to the greatness of the object before you,
and wisely distributed among your various duties.
These events of providence lead you to consider what you should
make your first and chief business during your residence in the
Seminary? Could the young ministers lately deceased speak to
you on this subject from the eternal world, they would exhort you
to make that your chief business here, which is in reality the
O E L Y MAN AN D M UN SO N. 315
chief business of life. And what is this, taken in a personal
view, but to be renewed in the spirit of your minds, to grow in
grace and in the knowledge of Jesus Christ, and to secure an
inheritance among them who are sanctified ? You will by and by
tell your fellow-men, that this is their great concern. It is equally
yours. Amid the variety of objects which solicit your attention,
you may be tempted to neglect your own Souls, and to substitute
something else in the place of personal piety. Place yourselves
then in imagination, where you will soon be in fact, near the close
of your probation, with death and the judgment just before you;
and you will have the sentiment fixed deep in your hearts, that
the care of the soul is the one thing needful for you, while you
are members of the Seminary, and at every other period of your
life; and that, if you neglect this, you neglect what is more im–
portant to you than all things else, and are guilty of a folly and a
sin for which no tears or sufferings can ever atone.
The occasion also should lead you to consider, what branches
of intellectual improvement demand your chief attention ? Sup-
pose that, within one or two years after entering on your profes-
sion, you yourself should be laid on a dying bed, and that a friend
of yours, about to join a theological Seminary, should ask you,
what particular studies ought to command his attention ; can you
doubt what answer you would give 7 Those studies, you would
Say, are most important, which are most intimately related to the
great interests, of religion; — those which lead most directly to
the knowledge of the word of God, and which will help you most
fully to understand, and most successfully to teach the essential
truths of Christianity; those, in a word, which will fit you to do
most towards accomplishing the grand object for which the Saviour
came down from heaven, and died on the cross.
The occasion calls your attention to another point. Those five
brethren, whose early death has been announced to us, know for a
certainty, whether their hope of Salvation was well founded. A sin–
cere repentance, a Sound conversion, prepares men to die, and to
appear before God. But a spurious conversion, a superficial
religion, though it may bear the test of human inspection, will be
316 S.E. R. M. O N O N THE DEAT II
worthless in the state of retribution. Consider this subject
now, while a mistake may be corrected. You are soon to go forth
to the duties and trials of the ministry. And you are soon to go
forth to meet your Lord and Judge. Behold, the bridegroom
cometh. Arise, and trim your lamps; and take heed that you be
not like the foolish virgins, who found, too late, that they had no
oil in their lamps.
The present occasion suggests important instruction, to those
students whose purpose it is to engage in the missionary service.
An event of a Sorrowful and appalling character has been
announced to you. Two young missionaries, urged on by Chris-
tian love to seek the good of those who are perishing in ignorance
and vice, have been suddenly cut off by an act of the most shock-
ing barbarity. By this event you are carried back to primitive
times, when it was nothing uncommon for missionaries to suffer
martyrdom. How fondly have we been hoping that such times
were forever gone by And the feeling may have found a place
in our hearts, that as there are fewer trials and dangers to be
encountered now than formerly, lower qualifications will be suffi-
cient. If so, then may not God have permitted this awful event
for the very purpose of correcting this hurtful mistake, and making
a more just impression on our minds as to the proper character of
missionaries 7 You now See, perhaps in a more striking light than
ever before, that as they who engage in the missionary service
must die, and may die at the very commencement of their work;
those who are looking forward to that service ought, by all means,
to be living Christians, purified by faith, and changed into the holy
image of God. And as difficulties and perils may lie in your
path, you ought to be armed with invincible courage and patience
and trust in God, and so be prepared for trials, however sudden
and severe. Accustom yourselves to self-denial and labor. Ban-
ish forever the love of praise, the love of promotion, and a worldly
spirit in every form. Let your heart be possessed with so strong
an affection for the heathem, that the difficulties and trials asso-
ciated with the missionary work may lose all their terror, and
even become attractive. Ponder well those trials. Count the
OF LY MAN AND MUN S ON . . 317
cost. Regard sacrifices and sufferings as constituting a substan-
tial part of the life of missionaries. Be ready to follow Christ to
suffering and to death. Have such faith in God, and such love to
the souls of men, that what has taken place on the island of Suma-
tra will have no power to disquiet your minds, or turn you back
from your holy enterprise. The last command of the risen
Saviour is not— Go preach the gospel 80 far as you can without
exposing yourselves to persecution and death. It is peremptory:
“Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every crea-
ture.” The early propagation of the gospel cost thousands of
lives. The mere profession of Christianity was in numberless
instances attended with imprisonment, tortures, and death. But
did the prospect of sufferings prevent ministers from preaching the
gospel, or private Christians from adhering to it? Did their con-
science bend or their heart grow faint under persecution ? Per-
secution did indeed help to draw the line between true and false
professors. So it would do now. Should dangers and troubles
multiply, and should the powers of the world and the powers
of darkness breathe out threatenings and slaughter against the
preachers of the cross in every missionary field; what would be
the effect upon the number of missionaries 2 Weigh the question
well.
The events which have recently occurred, are eminently suited
to withdraw our confidence from human instruments and human
efforts, and to bring us to put all our trust in God. He could, if
he pleased, work without any instruments whatever; or if he em-
ployed instruments, he might employ those of far higher qualifi-
cations, than imperfect dying men possess. Why then has God
chosen to maké use of imperfect, dying men, as agents in carry-
ing on his work of grace 7 Is it because he stands in need of
our help ? Why, it seems to me, brethren, that for God to take
such poor, weak things as we are, and make us in any measure
fit for his service, and then sustain us in it, costs him, (if I may
so speak,) costs him far more, than it would to do the work him-
self, without any agency of ours. Certainly the infinite God, if
he pleased, could at once by a special revelation, communicate
27*
3.18 S E. R. M. O N O N T H E D EATEI
the knowledge of the gospel to the minds of the heathen, and by
his Holy Spirit could effectually induce them to accept it, and so
give them eternal life, without the labors of gospel ministers. Let
him only speak the word, and all this would instantly be done,
just as he said, “Let there be light, and there was light.”—For
God to take human beings, so ignorant, so sinful, so unfit for his
service, and to employ them in the work of the ministry; to bear
with their pride, and unfaithfulness, and all the faults of their
character; to call them back from their wanderings; to watch
over them and guard them every moment, and by the exertion of
his own omnipotence, to render their poor services successful; —
all this is surely a great work. I repeat it—for God to make
use of such feeble, imperfect instruments in Saving Souls, requires
more agency on his part, than to save them without any instru-
ments whatever. For now, he does himself, by his own special
agency, convert and save perishing men, and in addition to this,
he takes us, who are but “dust and ashes,” into his service, and
by his great power and mercy helps us along, constantly working
in us to prepare us to act for him, and then working in the Souls
of sinners by us—and that, too, when our miserable labors are
frequently nothing but a hinderance to his own designs. My
brethren, God does not call us into his service to supersede his
own agency. He does it rather for the opposite purpose. It is
the very nature of God and the pleasure of God to act. And to
act as he does, is his glory. It costs him no effort, like what we
call effort, to put forth his almighty agency. It is easy for God
to create millions of worlds, and to sustain them for ages of ages.
It is perfectly easy for him to do all this, and to do it forever if
he pleases. Most surely then, the infinite God, in accomplishing
the work of redemption, does not bring the power of men or angels
into action to prevent the necessity of exercising his own power;
but for the very purpose of evereising it in the largest measure.
According to this exalted principle, so different from the narrow
principle which governs man, God did not choose that plan which
would require the least of his agency, but that which would require
the most. The whole complicated machinery of the natural world,
OF LYM A N AND MUN SO N. 310
is such, as constantly to call forth and display the infinite power of
God. He loves to exert his infinite power; and he loves to dis-
play it too — not for his own benefit, but for ours. Accordingly,
if God is pleased to make use of instruments in saving sinners,
we are not to imagine that he will choose those of the highest
order — those endued with perfections nearest to divine ; because,
if such exalted agents should come out between God and us, the
grandeur of their character, and the dazzling splendor of their
operations, might fill the narrow field of our vision, and hide the
glory of God from our view. We are rather to conclude, so far,
at least, as the benefit of human beings is concerned, that God .
will choose instruments which have no overpowering grandeur of
character—instruments altogether inadequate, of themselves, to
accomplish the work designed—instruments so manifestly insuffi-
cient, that the whole world shall be compelled to look through
them, and above them, to a divine agency, and to give glory to
him “who worketh all in all.”
It is nothing against these views, that the angels are “minis-
tering spirits, sent forth to minister to the heirs of Salvation.”
They are indeed ministering spirits. But their agency is all con-
cealed from our view. For what reason 7 Why are we not per-
mitted to behold those benevolent beings, that we may love and
honor them, as we do the ministers of the gospel ? May not the
reason be found in the imbecility of our nature, and in our danger
of being overawed by angelic appearances, and of being drawn
into idolatry 7 Angels can behold angels without danger. They
have stronger minds than we. When the most resplendent instru-
ments come out clearly to their view, they can see God through
them, and in them — and can see more of God, because the in-
struments he employs are So glorious. But is it not otherwise with
us? Are we not in danger of looking even upon a mortal like
ourselves, if distinguished by the lustre of his character, with
an excessive veneration ?
The principle above stated is exactly the one which the Apostle
brings out, when he says, that God has committed the treasure of
the gospel “to earthen vessels” — for this very purpose, “that
320 SERM ON ON THE DEATH .
the excellence of the power may be of God, and not of us.” The
weakness and frailty of the instruments are to turn off the eyes
of all men from them to God, and to make it manifest, that he
does the work, and deserves all the praise.
Such is the view which the Scriptures give of the agents that
God employs, and the reasons why he employs them, in the work
of Saving sinners. Such also is the view inculcated upon us by
the events of divine providence, particularly by those which have
recently taken place. The missionaries whom we send forth are
“earthen vessels;” the most healthy and vigorous of them are
frail as the grass. They may be quickly wasted away by sick-
ness, or still more quickly cut off by the violence of men. And
those of them who are most conspicuous for their piety, are sub-
ject to weakness and imperfection. Let us, then, never place
our reliance upon feeble human agents, but upon God, the Al-
mighty Agent, “ of whom, and through whom, and to whom, are
all things.” -
But let not the events which have come to pass discourage the
devoted friends of the missionary cause. These events are ap-
pointed as the means of improving our characters, and so of
leading on to greater success in the end. There is something
very animating in that principle of God’s providence, which makes
disappointments and sufferings, the means of bringing about great
results. Enterprises of extraordinary moment are not carried for-
ward smoothly and easily, but are invariably associated with diffi-
culties, and often with disasters. May we not then indulge the
cheering thought, that the various adverse and painful events
which have met us in the missionary enterprise, are in reality
expressions of the divine favor, and are clear indications, that the
work in which we are engaged is one of singular greatness and is
ultimately to be attended with glorious success.
The present occasion leads us to contemplate a profound mys-
tery of divine providence—a mystery as unfathomable, as any of
the doctrines of our religion. At the present day, almost two
thousand years after Christ made propitiation for the sins of the
world, and after so much has been done by apostles, and martyrs,
O F L Y MAN AN ID M U NS ON . 321
and other servants of God, and so many prayers have bood offered
up for the spread of the gospel, and when we have been inclined
to think that the darkness is almost past, and the universal reign
of Christ near at hand—there is still on the island of Sumatra
a tribe of cannibals—a million of human beings so savage and
cruel, that they murder their fellow-men, even those who come
to them on an errand of love, and then devour their mangled,
lifeless bodies. Why is it that men are anywhere found possessed
of a character so unutterably base and dreadful ? But this myste-
ry does not end with the cannibals in Sumatra, and in other parts
of the earth. It extends in all its unsearchableness, to the whole
heathen world. Why is it, that even at this day three fourths
of the human race are left in darkness, having never known the
name of the only Saviour ! Why has not God caused them to
hear the glad tidings, when at any time during the ages of dark-
ness that are past, he could have raised up unnumbered ministers,
and sent them forth into all lands, and could have made the
gospel preached by them effectual to salvation; — or could have
saved them with infinite ease, if he had seen fit, without the labor
of any ministers? Why has he suffered so great a part of the
world to remain a barren, frightful wilderness, when it has been
In the power of his hand to make it a fruitful field 7
It does not clear up the mystery at all to say, that the Chris-
tian world has been in fault; that if they had been as benevolent
and active, and as fervent in prayer, as they ought to have been,
the Sound of the gospel, accompanied with the power of the Holy
Ghost, would long ago have reached all nations. The question
is why God has not made the Christian world thus benevolent, and
active, and fervent in prayer, — why he has not actually raised
up well qualified ministers in sufficient numbers to accomplish the
work of the world’s conversion. The mystery of mysteries is,
that God, with his infinite power and wisdom and love, has not
done this. The inspired writers do not attempt to answer the
questions which may be raised respecting this subject. They
teach us, what is important for us to know, that God in all these
things, acts “according to the counsel of his own will,” and that
322 SERM O N O N THE DEATH
his will is infinitely wise and good—and there they leave the
subject; — and they leave it there, that the loftiness of man may
be brought low, and that God alone may be exalted.
I shall touch upon one point more, and that is the true spirit of
the Christian religion—so widely different from the spirit of the
world. A tribe of cannibals in Sumatra have inhumanly killed
and devoured our beloved brethren, who went there from the
purest benevolence. What now shall we do to avenge the inno-
cent blood of these missionaries 7 Shall we petition our govern-
ment to send forth an army to inflict signal punishment upon
those monsters of cruelty, and to teach them, that American cit-
izens cannot be injured with impunity ? Or shall we pray God
to send down fire from heaven to destroy them 7 No, brethren.
The God whom we worship, is the God of love. And our Saviour,
infinitely merciful himself, requires all his disciples to copy his
example, and to cherish a benevolent, forgiving temper towards
their worst enemies. And when, after his resurrection from the
dead, he commissioned his apostles to go forth to preach the glad
tidings of Salvation, he directed them to begin at Jerusalem, where
so many prophets had been killed—yes, he directed them to
begin the work of benevolence at Jerusalem, in the midst of those
who had shed his blood l Behold the true spirit of our religion
It is the spirit of meekness, gentleness and forgiveness. It is
the spirit of love — love to enemies, persecutors and murderers.
Guided by this spirit, let us meditate no return to those who have
massacred our beloved missionaries, but to labor and pray for
their eternal welfare. Let us take special pains to send the bless-
ings of the gospel to Sumatra, and to the Batta territory where
Lyman and Munson were slain. And let the missionary, selected
for the purpose, be instructed to preach the gospel to the inhabi-
tants of Sumatra, beginning at Batta. With holy confidence in
God, let that missionary go forward to his work of mercy among
those poor, wretched cannibals. And let him search out the very
men who murdered our brethren, and begin with them. As they
are first in guilt and wretchedness, let him first seek their good.
With a heart that pities them, and longs for their salvation, let
O E L Y MAN AN D M UN SO N. 323
him proclaim to them the glorious gospel:—Behold I bring you
glad tidings. Jesus died for sinners, for the chief ºf sinners. I
offer you pardon in his name. Thus let him preach to those mis-
erable heathen, the unsearchable riches of Christ. And if the
grace of God should touch their hearts, and bring them to re-
pentance — and if they should at length be seen at the feet of
Jesus, weeping for their sins, and devoting their whole souls to
him, and then going about to proclaim his abounding grace; —
Oh! this would be a spectacle, at the sight of which angels would
rejoice, and the report of which would fill the hearts of ten thou-
Sand believers with gladness. And could those two missionaries,
now we trust in heaven, hear the blessed tidings of the repent-
ance of their murderers, how would they join with the angels in
their rejoicing, while with a Christ-like spirit, they would feel will-
ing to go down again to earth, and bear again the pains of death,
for the joy of beholding such precious fruits of God's Spirit, and
such glorious triumphs of his grace |
A S E R M 0 N
DELIVERED AT THE FUNERAL OF THE REV. JOHN HUBBARD CHURCH, D. D., WHO
DIED AT PELEIAM, N.H., JUNE 12, 1840.
BRETHREN AND FRIENDS ; I stand here to-day in compliance
with the request of that beloved brother, who now sleeps in death.
I visited him near the time of his decease. During that visit,
he requested me to preach at his funeral; then taking his Bible,
which he had by his pillow, and pointing to a particular passage,
he said, “I wish you to preach from that text.” It was the
second Epistle to Timothy, 1: 18, “The Lord grant unto him,
that he may find mercy of the Lord in that day.” He then said:
“I want you to dwell particularly upon this idea, that we depend
on the mercy of the Lord for our salvation ; and that ministers of
the gospel, as well as others, will need that mercy at the judgment
day.” He repeated it: “What I wish you to show is, that the
salvation of ministers, as well as of all others, depends on the
sovereign mercy of God; and that it is infinitely important that
we obtain that mercy now and hereafter. Dwell upon the idea,
that we shall need to find mercy of the Lord at the last day.”
He enlarged upon this sentiment in various ways; and in the
whole of that interview he showed, that the doctrine of salvation
by the free grace of God, through the righteousness of Jesus
Christ, was the ground of his hope and the spring of his consola-
tions on his dying bed.
SER MON ON THE DEATH OF D R. CEIURCH. 325
Deeply impressed with the recollection of that last interview,
I shall make it my object on this occasion to exhibit the doctrine
of salvation by grace, as evemplified in the life and character of
our departed brother. And permit me to say, that what I shall
advance on this subject will not be a matter of conjecture; nor
will it be made out from a mere general acquaintance with Dr.
Church as a minister of the gospel; but will be the result of my
intercourse and friendship with him for almost fifty years; an in-
tercourse and friendship so free and intimate, that I have as true
a knowledge of his mind and heart, as one man can have of the
mind and heart of another in the present world. I speak too in
the presence of a church and Society for whom he labored in the
ministry thirty-seven years, and who will judge of the correctness
of my remarks.
Turn your thoughts then to the doctrine of salvation by grace,
as exemplified in our beloved brother; particularly as it was the
object of his faith, the matter of his inward experience, and the
spring of his pious and useful life.
In the first place, the doctrine of Salvation by grace was the
object of his faith. He regarded this as the essence of the
gospel—the great truth, in which all other truths of revelation
centre. He believed, as the followers of Christ in all ages have
believed, that the salvation of men is wholly of God; that it
originated in his eternal love; that it is entirely and preeminently
a work of divine grace.
The nature and the method of Salvation imply, that man is
an apostate being, alienated from God, totally lost, without any
power to atone for his sins, and without any spring of holiness or
tendency to obedience in himself. This ruined state of the human
family is pre-supposed in the work of redemption. Christ came
to seek and save that which was lost ; SO that all to whom the
work of redeeming mercy can apply are depraved and lost.
The posterity of Adam, according to the Scriptures, are all
sinners. The evil which is in them is moral evil, and it is their
own, for which they are justly exposed to the divine displeasure;
and their condemnation is an act of God’s righteousness. Such
WOL. W. 28
326 S E R M O N O N T H E D EATEI
was the belief of our brother. He looked upon the law of God,
and the plan of his government, as holy, just, and good. He
believed the divine appointment, connecting the character and
condition of Adam’s posterity with his conduct, to have been an
act not only of Sovereignty, but of wisdom and righteousness.
With his views of the divine character, he wanted nothing to
satisfy him that the appointment, so plainly asserted in Rom. 5:
12–19, was just and right, but the simple fact that it was the
appointment of God. And he wanted nothing to satisfy him
that it was the appointment of God but the declaration of an in-
spired writer. This was the end of the matter. He considered
it a doctrine not to be made out by human reason and philosophy,
but to be taught by revelation — a doctrine to be shaped and de-
termined, not by the weakness and shallowness of the human
mind, but by the unsearchable and boundless wisdom of the di-
vine mind.
Here the work of salvation by grace comes in. God so loved
the world, that he gave his only begotten Son to die for them.
And the Saviour actually died for them. To deliver them from
the curse of the law, he was made a curse for them. By his
obedience and death he made propitiation for sin, and procured
forgiveness and eternal life for all believers. This was the faith
of Dr. Church. He believed the finished righteousness of Christ,
consisting in his perfect obedience and vicarious sufferings, to be
the only ground of our forgiveness, the grand, meritorious cause
of salvation; as it is written, there is no other name under
heaven given among men whereby we must be saved, but the name
of Jesus. And while Jesus is the only Saviour, he is also all-
sufficient, able to save the chief of sinners, and to save to the
uttermost; so that no one need to despair on account of the
greatness of his sins. The Salvation to be obtained is a free,
gratuitous salvation, not resting at all on any moral worth in us,
but springing wholly from the eternal love and mercy of God.
Such a salvation, and such only, is adapted to those who have
destroyed themselves, and have not now, and never can have,
any worthiness to entitle them to the divine favor. To those who
O F D R. . C. EIU. R. C. EI. 327
are in this condition Jesus Christ is presented as a complete
Saviour; and those who are ready to perish, are invited to come
to him and receive of his fulness. Thus the door of mercy is
opened; a Saviour, unspeakably precious and glorious, and every
way suited to our case, is revealed, and we are called upon by
the voice of infinite majesty and infinite love to receive him.
Oh! how many times, and with what affectionate earnestness has
that tongue, which is now silent in death, proclaimed this glorious
doctrine, this provision of mercy for the Salvation of men | And
how feelingly did he dwell upon it in that happy hour which I
spent with him, just before his decease !
But it is implied in that doctrine of Salvation which is taught
in the Scriptures, and which our departed brother believed, that
men in their natural state will not come to Christ that they may
have life ; that, while left to themselves, they are governed by
that carnal mind which is enmity against God, and, consequently,
that their recovery to holiness, as really as their forgiveness,
must be of God. He calls sinners with a holy calling, not ac-
cording to their works, but according to his own purpose and
grace. They are born of God. The commencement and pro-
gress of their renewal to holiness is “not of blood, nor of the will
of the flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God.” Their obe-
dience springs not from any principle of action naturally in them,
but from the divine Spirit. He works in them all the good
pleasure of his goodness, and the work of faith with power.
Every Christian virtue is the fruit of the Holy Spirit. The
application of redemption to sinners is to be ascribed wholly to
God. He gives them repentance. He works faith in them. He
sheds abroad his love in their hearts by the Holy Ghost. So
the apostles taught; and so our brother believed, and So he
preached. Nor did he trouble himself to show how our entire
dependence on the Spirit of God is to be reconciled with our
free, moral agency. He knew them to be reconcilable, because
he knew them both to be true. He left the actual reconciling
of them to be made out where only it can be well made out, in
the inward experience and consciousness of Christians.
828 S ER. M. O N ON TEIE DEATEI
An important part of Salvation is the justification of those
who believe ; which is an act of God’s free grace, wherein he
pardons all our sins, and accepts us as righteous in his sight,
not for our works, and not for any merit in our repentance or
faith, but altogether on account of Christ our atoning High
Priest, and on the ground of his death and intercession. The
Apostle, Rom. 4: 6, speaks of God's imputing righteousness with-
out works. The merit of Christ's obedience and sufferings, is
imputed to believers—is so made over to them, so reckoned to
their account, that it avails to their benefit, and they receive
the blessings of it as really, as though they themselves were
righteous. They are justified by faith—a faith which falls in
with the scheme of grace revealed in the gospel, and receives
Christ as the only Saviour and the blessings of Salvation as a
free gift. Thus the whole of salvation comes from God, and will
be to the praise of the glory of his grace.
This work of salvation is so carried on in the souls of the re-
deemed, that they are secured against final apostasy, gradually
delivered from the sin that dwells in them, and advanced from
one degree of Santification to another, till they are made perfect
in holiness, and admitted to the inheritance of the saints in light.
There they will receive their reward; but it is a reward, not of
debt, but of grace. They will not stand upon their own merit at
the bar of justice. The sentiment will be as deeply fixed in
their hearts at the judgment-day, as it ever was before : “If thou,
Lord, shouldst mark iniquity, O Lord, who could stand 2 Their
entrance into the heavenly world will be as much a matter of
grace, as their renewal by the Spirit, or the forgiveness of their
sins when they first believed. So our dear brother regarded it,
living and dying.
It was also his belief, that the Lord Jesus will, according to
his promise, carry on this gracious work of salvation in the
church and in the world, till all who were given him of the Fa-
ther shall come to him, and the innumerable and glorious multi-
tude of his people shall be presented, without spot, before the
throne of God, and thus the work of grace be brought to its final
consummation.
O F D R . CEI U R C EI. . 329
Dut this doctrine of salvation by grace is so extensive, that I
can do nothing on this occasion, but give you some of its out-
lines. The subject can never be exhausted. It will be the
theme of contemplation to the Saints in heaven through ever-
lasting ages.
When I say that this doctrine was the object of faith to our
departed brother, I say nothing which distinguishes him from
others. The belief of the doctrine is common to all evangelical
ministers and Christians. But if Dr. Church was not distin-
guished from ministers and Christians generally by what he be-
lieved, he was by the manner of his believing, that is, by the
strength and constancy of his faith. Many who really believe
the doctrine of divine grace, believe it feebly and imperfectly.
Their faith is divided, and fluctuating. But it was the happiness
of our brother, that he held this essential doctrine with a strong
and steady faith, a faith which rested, with full confidence, on
the sure word of God. He was firmly anchored; and no vio-
lence of winds or waves could move him. Like Abraham, he
was strong in faith, giving glory to God. Whether he con-
versed, or preached, or prayed, he showed that the things re-
vealed in the Scriptures respecting the Salvation of sinners were
all realities to him. He would have doubted his own existence,
or the existence of God, as soon as he would have doubted the
doctrines of grace. If we believe these things doubtingly, we
shall be likely to regard them as of little value, and to place
them in the back ground. When the Apostle gave such promi-
nence to the doctrine of Christ crucified, and resolved to know
nothing else in comparison, he showed that he believed it with all
his heart. The doctrines of grace are of such a nature that,
if they are true doctrines, they are chief doctrines. We cannot
heartily believe them, without regarding them as of the first con-
sequence in the system of divine truth. It is, moreover, a fact,
that the doctrine of salvation by grace, when rightly apprehended
and firmly believed, reflects a clear light on all other related
subjects. It helps us to detect error. For whatever interferes
with this chief truth, or leads us to consider it as less important
28*
330 S EIR M O N ON THE DIEATEI
than the Apostle represented it to be, we know to be false; just
as we know any opinion in philosophy or ethics to be false, which
would withdraw our homage from God, or our confidence from
his word. If we build upon the foundation of the apostles and
prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief corner stome, our
edifice will have symmetry, beauty, and strength. It was this
which gave the stamp of excellence to the faith of our lamented
brother, and made it like the faith of the apostles and first
Christians. He made Christ the chief corner stone. Salvation
by grace through the blood of the cross, was the grand article of
his faith.
But I must proceed to my second point. While the doctrine
of salvation by grace was the object of faith to the good man who
has been taken from us, it was also the matter of his inward ex-
perience. Through the power of the Holy Spirit, his religious
character was formed in correspondence with this gospel truth,
and under its influence.
Forty-three years ago I began to have a more particular ac-
quaintance and correspondence with this dear brother on the
subject of religion. Soon after that, we were united together as
companions and room-mates in the study of theology. Thus I
had opportunity to know all that could be known by man of his
religious views and exercises. On this subject I could with
pleasure expatiate. But I must confine myself to the object
proposed, namely, to show that the doctrine of Salvation by grace
was wrought into our brother's spiritual experience, and that his
religious exercises and habits corresponded with this gospel truth,
answering to it, as the impress on wax answers to the seal. I
mean to Gay, it was so in a good measure. Entire conformity
with divine truth in our inward views and affections, would imply
a more exalted State than any one attains to in the present life.
Of this, who was ever more conscious than Dr. Church 2 The
leading point in his religious experience, was a deep and continu-
ally growing conviction of his own sinfulness and ill-desert. This
conviction lid not relate particularly to his outward conduct. For
this had k en remarkably fair and blameless from early life.
O E D R . C. EIU R C EI. 331
But during his last year at Harvard College, he had strong, and
Sometimes distressing conviction of sin. It was as certain to him
as his own existence, that he was by nature a child of wrath;
that he had that carnal mind which is enmity against God; and
that, in his natural state, he had no spring of holy love, no ele-
ment of goodness. After a long and painful struggle in his own
mind, he came at length to the full persuasion, that it was not in
him to renew his own heart. He was convinced by his own ex-
perience, that, whatever motives might be urged upon him, and
whatever efforts he might make, he could effect nothing without
the influence of the Holy Spirit. He was persuaded that it
would be just in God to leave him to perish, and that, if he was
saved, it must be by God's sovereign grace. In that state of
mind he took the low place before God which properly belongs to
the sinner; and there he was, humbled, broken-hearted, helpless;
justifying the divine law, abhorring himself, expecting no relief
from his own exertions—but still cleaving to the hope, that God
would interpose and have mercy upon him. I well remember
how strongly and tenderly he spoke of these things in conversa-
tion, and in his letters; and with what humble gratitude he set
forth the work of divine grace, after He who commanded the light
to shine out of darkness, shined in his heart, to give the light of the
knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ ; and
after he was induced to accept the merciful invitation of the
Saviour, “ come unto me, and I will give you rest.” Jesus gave
him rest. His religious exercises at that time were clear and
decided, and gave his Christian friends very satisfactory evidence
that he had passed from death to life. And yet he himself
was so occupied with adoring views of the abounding grace of
God, and with a sense of his own sinfulness and unworthiness,
that he thought but little, comparatively, of his own exercises.
His prevailing sentiment was not this: I have now become a
Christian, an heir of heaven / O / how happy I am, and how
happy I shall be forever ! It was rather this: How glorious is
God! How wonderful his mercy in saving them that are lost /
How vile and hateful is sin ' How precious the Saviour ! What
shall I render to the Lord for all his benefits /
332 S E R M O N ON TEIE DEATH
And as this was the aspect of his spiritual experience at that
period, so it continued to be through life. He felt more and more,
that salvation is of God. All the good in man he ascribed to
divine grace; and he relied upon that grace for the whole of Sal-
vation. It was the steady, permanent habit of his mind, to exalt
God and to humble himself. The greater his knowledge of the
holiness and grace of God, the greater was his self-abasement.
These two appeared to keep pace with each other. In his letters,
some of them written forty years ago, and some a short time be-
fore his death, he enlarged upon this precious truth, and seemed
to cling to it as his only support, that Christ is all in all— our
wisdom, our righteousness, our Sanctification, and our redemption;
that we must, by faith, receive of his fulness, and that in propor-
tion as we do this, we are complete in him. Any magnifying of
the power of self-ruined man for the great business of Sanctifica-
tion; anything which implied that there is any sufficiency in us
for spiritual duty; anything which tended to hinder us from walk-
ing by faith on the Son of God, or to hide from us the truth, that
all our sufficiency is of God, instantly excited his apprehension.
He turned away from it as contrary to his experience, to his pray-
ers, and to all the movements and impulses of his renewed nature;
and, what is more, contrary to the spirit of the Sacred writers.
It cost him no labor of reasoning to find out an error like this.
He had already detected it in his own heart. He knew it to be
an error, just as he knew atheism to be an error.
But I must quit this pleasing topic and proceed to another, not
less pleasing, namely, that the doctrine of Salvation by grace, which
was thus wrought into the inward experience of our beloved broth-
er, was the spring of his pious and w8eful life. It was his full
and unwavering belief of this gospel doctrine, and an inward
affection and habit of mind corresponding with it, that was the
efficacious principle of a holy life.
The mistake of many, and that which occasions a constant
failure in their endeavors after holiness is, that they go to work
in religion, without the vital principle of religion. They look for
good fruit, without a good tree; for motion, without life. Con-
O F D R - C H U R C H. 333
science is not the effectual spring of right action. Self-love is
not. Fear of misery is not. Speculative knowledge of the truth
is not. Any or all of these may exist, and may produce a visible
effect on the surface of a man’s character. But they have no
power to overcome the principle of evil in the heart. We must
be created anew in Christ Jesus. The Spirit of God must give
us spiritual life; and then we shall live unto God. We must
have that faith which God works in the heart; and then good
works will follow. -
We have the best evidence that our brother had the indwelling
of the Holy Spirit, which Christ represents as a well of living
water, springing up to everlasting life. See how mightily this
inward principle wrought in him See what fruits it yielded ! It
prepared him to live and act right in all the relations and all the
conditions of life. I might appeal to those who enjoyed his min-
isterial instructions in the language of Paul: “Ye are witnesses,
and God also, how holily, and justly, and unblameably he behaved
himself among you that believe ; as ye know how he exhorted and
comforted, and charged every one of you, (as a father doth his
children,) that ye would walk worthy of God, who hath called
you to his kingdom and glory.” You are all witnesses, that he
aimed faithfully and affectionately to declare unto you the whole
counsel of God; that he sought not yours, but you ; that he de-
termined to know nothing among you save Jesus Christ and him
crucified; and that his speech was not with enticing words of
man's wisdom, but in demonstration of the Spirit and of power.
Doctor Church was a minister of the gospel more than forty
years, and was known extensively in our community. And what
minister or Christian did you ever know, who more uniformly
exhibited the love, joy, peace, long-suffering, gentleness, goodness,
faith, meekness, and temperance, which are the fruits of the
Spirit, or who had more of the likeness of Christ'? Who in our
day gives clearer evidence that he has been born again; that he
is dead to the world, and alive unto God? Who manifests a more
ardent desire, for the spread of the gospel and the salvation of
sinners? Who can more sincerely make his appeal to God, and
334 - SERM ON ON THE DEATH
say, “O how I love thy law l’” Who is more evidently clothed
with humility ? Of whom can it be more truly said, that he
walks with God, and thinks and acts in concert with the Holy
Ghost” It is, my friends, a matter of solemn import to us, that
such a man of God has, for so many years, been among us.
Doctor Church was an active friend of all our benevolent
societies and institutions, and was always ready, to the extent
of his ability, to contribute to their objects. Early in the op-
erations of the American Tract Society, and for many years,
he was a member of the Executive and Publishing Committee.
For twenty years he was a Member of the Board of Commis-
sioners for Foreign Missions, and a Trustee of Dartmouth College.
For fourteen years he was a Trustee of Phillips Academy and
the Theological Seminary in Andover. He was a Director and
afterwards Vice-President of the New Hampshire Bible Soci-
ety, and President of the New Hampshire Missionary Society.
He was also Secretary of the General Association of New Hamp-
shire from the time it was organized, A. D. 1809, till his death.
In his relation to these and various other public institutions the
influence of his religious principles was always manifest. While
he was warmly attached to the cause of learning and to the
welfare of civil society; he was sure never to forget the essence
of Christianity—the doctrine of salvation by grace. His cor-
dial belief of this doctrine had an elevating, sanctifying effect
upon his public character. His piety was a permanent, practical
principle, influencing him in all his public as well as private con-
duct. When did he form plans for his own worldly interest? Who
ever thought that he was governed by ambition ? Those who
were associated with him in the work of the ministry, and in the
management of our religious institutions, knew what entire confi-
dence they could repose in him. Amid the commotions of the
public mind, and the shipwreck of the faith of many, he stood
firm as a rock. He was “stablished, strengthened, settled.”
Whatever fears we might have that others would be carried about
with every wind of doctrine; we had no fears respecting him.
The influence of a man possessing such excellences of character
O F D R. C II U R C II. 335
was every where felt. His faithful labors and fervent prayers
brought rich blessings upon all with whom he was connected.
And all who love the prosperity of the church, and the welfare
of the human family, have reason to praise the Most High God,
that he raised up such a man among us; that he endued him with
such inward goodness, and such qualifications for usefulness, and
continued his precious life so long. And whenever our eyes are
permitted to behold a man and a gospel minister so moulded and
guided by the Holy Spirit, and so like Christ as he was ; we will
bless God for the precious gift.
Will you now bear with the preacher, while he says a word for
himself on this mournful occasion ? I would not cease to thank
God that, after death has removed far from me the greater part
of those with whom I was most intimately associated in former
years, there are still continued to me so many beloved brethren
and fellow-laborers. But in vain do I look for one, with whom
I have had such an uninterrupted and entire friendship for so
many years, as I enjoyed with this excellent brother. My ac-
quaintance with him commenced in my youth, almost half a cen-
tury ago. From that time our friendship continued and increased.
We rejoiced in each other's prosperity; and we passed together,’
with sympathizing hearts, through many scenes of trial and sor-
row. About therty-five years ago, I was called to stand in this
place and minister to the consolation of my afflicted brother, then
suddenly bereaved of the wife of his youth. The example of his
peaceful submission on that occasion, and in other times of afflic-
tion, I cannot forget. I reckon it among the choicest blessings
of my life, that I had such a friend and brother. How many
times did his conversation and his prayers help to chase &ay the
dark clouds which had gathered over my head | Whenever any
hurden pressed heavily upon me, and I felt myself ready to sink,
a desire to see my brother Church always sprung up in my heart;
and a visit from him never failed to encourage and strengthen me,
and either to remove the burden, or to help me cheerfully to bear
it. I never knew a man whose temper was more sweet and
tranquil than his, or whose heart was more free from everything
336 S E R M O N O N T H E D E A TH
contrary to love, or whose tongue was guided more entirely by
the law of kindness. º
I cannot but consider it an inestimable privilege, that I was
permitted to visit that good man a short time before his death.
During that last happy hour which I spent with him, he conversed
with perfect clearness and great freedom on a variety of most
interesting subjects. Do you ask how he appeared on his dying
bed He appeared just as every one who knew him thought that
he would appear. I presume there was no man acquainted with
the manner of his life, who did not expect that his end would be
peace. And so it was. On his dying bed, he had a penitent
heart and a contrite spirit. He said, with evident tenderness,
that he looked upon himself as a poor, unworthy, sinful man. But
he was filled with admiration at the goodness of God. He felt
then, as he had so long felt before, that he depended for salvation
on God’s sovereign grace;—he felt this as really as he did when
he first called upon the almighty Saviour for the life of his soul.
In that last scene his faith rested directly on its great object.
His peace, and hope, and joy were derived, not from what he saw
in himself—though he had satisfactory evidence of his piety, -
but from what he saw in Christ — his infinite love, his inexhausti-
ble fulness. He gave thanks to God that he had been directed
of late, more than formerly, to meditate on the glory of Christ.
He spoke of the precious books he had read within the last year
or two, referring particularly to Owen on the Glory of Christ,
Stevenson on the Offices of Christ, Good’s Better Covenant, and
Dickinson's Letters. He repeatedly expressed a strong desire
that ministers, and those who are preparing for the ministry,
might know more of the preciousness of Christ, and might more
fully declare his unsearchable riches to others. He wanted Christ
to be more honored. He said, in a very Solemn impressive man-
ner, that he had fears there were some ministers who had never
been born again. And he wished all ministers to feel that they
constantly needed the grace of Christ. He expressed a lively
interest in the welfare of our Theological Seminary, and said he
should be glad, if it might be the will of God, to visit it once
of DR. CHURCH. , 337
more. He said, too, there were several things he had designed to
do for the cause of Christ; but he was willing to leave it with God
to determine whether he should live to do them or not. It was
indeed a happy thing to be near such a servant of Christ, when he
was so near to heaven. And now, whatever may be my lot in
earthly things, the Lord grant unto me that I may live as that
dear brother lived, and die as he died
The bereaved children will, I trust, mingle gratitude and joy
with their sorrows. Render hearty thanks to God that he mani-
fested such kindness and grace towards your honored father, and
impressed upon him so visibly the image of the meek and lowly
Jesus. Thank God that you have so long enjoyed his counsels,
his example, and his prayers. These are all treasured up in your
minds; — a rich inheritance, far better than any earthly possession.
I know how solitary that beloved home will be to you, where nei-
ther father nor mother can any more be found ; and what a feel-
ing of loneliness and sadness will steal into your minds after these
funeral services are past. But the grace of God will be sufficient
for you. Through the aids of his Spirit cultivate that sweet
Serenity of mind, that pious cheerfulness, and that diligent attention
to all the branches of duty, which you have seen exemplified in
your honored father. Remember that it is an act of love for the
Lord Jesus to call his servants home, that they may be where
he is. Your father was one of the happiest men I ever
knew. He had a peculiar delight in the word of God and in the
manifestations of his goodness in the present life. And if he was
So peaceful and happy in this world, how exquisite must his happi-
ness be in the presence of Him whom his soul loved. What joy
swells his heart, to see Jesus face to face, to be wholly freed from
sin, and to be filled with all the fulness of God!
WOL. W. 29
A S E R M 0 N
DELIVERED AT THE FUNERAL OF MRS. PHEBE FARRAR, WIFE OF SAMUEL FARRAR,
ESQ., ANDOWER, JAN. 26, 1848.
John 17:24.—FATHER, I WILL THAT THEY ALSO WHOM THOU HAST GIVEN
ME, BE WITH ME, WHERE I AM.
IT has been common for men everywhere to paint to themselves
a heaven corresponding with their governing inclinations. The
covetous, the ambitious, the sensual, all aspire after a happiness
suited to gratify their predominant desires. Christians do the
same. They aspire after a happiness which is rational and pure
—a heaven suited to their rectified nature. Even if they had
less particular instruction than the Scriptures give in regard to
the happiness to be enjoyed — if they only knew and loved the
unseen Saviour — and were only informed that they are hereafter
to enjoy complete felicity, they would, I think, have an apprehen-
sion of the nature of that felicity, which would harmonize with the
teachings of inspiration. What could they regard as complete
flappiness, but to enjoy that Saviour whom they supremely love :
When we leave this earthly state, they would say — let us go to
him who loved us and died for us. Let us be with Jesus. This is
all our salvation and all our desire. This was the idea of the
Apostle Paul. He speaks of a desire to depart, and to be with
S E R M O N O N TEIE D E ATIH. O. F. M. R. S. F. A. R. R. A. R. . 339
Christ. He speaks of being absent from the body and present
with the Lord ; and of seeing Christ face to face. This was his
prevailing sentiment. And this was also the sentiment of John,
who represents heaven as a place where believers will see Christ
as he is. And we have the most perfect and delightful expression
of this idea from Christ himself. “Father, I will that they also
whom thou hast given me, be with me where I am.” The apostles
dwelt familiarly upon this view of the subject. And so it is with
all those who have received their ideas of heaven from the sacred
writers, and have imbibed the spirit of our holy religion. To be
with Christ is the heaven of Christians. It is all the heaven they
desire. It comprises everything that is necessary to constitute
the perfection of celestial happiness.
In the first place, Christians in the presence of Christ, have
an object before them possessed of all possible excellence — an
object Suited to employ and gratify all their intellectual and moral
jaculties, and to fill the capacities of their souls.
How happy must believers in heaven be, to see in their Saviour
the highest perfection of human nature. They were once conver-
Sant with that nature in a fallen, degraded state' robbed of its
proper excellence, and displaying itself in numberless forms of
vileness and hatefulness. But now when they look upon Jesus,
their elder brother, they see what humanity is capable of. They
gaze with inexpressible pleasure, upon the exalted manhood of
Jesus. And they delight in it the more, because they themselves
are human, and they behold in him the exact standard to which they
are to be conformed. He was always without sin — holy, harm-
less, undefiled. But while on earth, his character was little
known. Even his disciples had but an imperfect discernment of
it. But now his glory shines perpetually. And the saints love to
behold it, and in the light of his glorified humanity they love to
forget all that was low and weak and faulty in their fellow Chris-
tians and in themselves, and to fix their eyes upon one in their
own nature, adorned with the perfection of beauty. This excel-
lenco and loveliness of Christ's human nature must be peculiarly
attractive to the Saints, and must bring them into a state of near.
340 S ER. M. O N ON TEIE DEATH
ness to him, and fellowship with him, far above what they could
otherwise enjoy.
But Christ, the object presented before the eyes of believers in
heaven, is possessed not only of human, but of divine excellence.
And in the contemplation of that excellence, they will be con-
stantly attaining to higher and higher degrees of knowledge. On
earth they saw through a glass darkly. But now their knowledge
of the divine glory of Christ is clear and certain, and is always
perfect according to the measure of their understanding. But he
will be continually unfolding new glories, and they, with an inten-
sity of thought of which no one on earth is capable, will behold
those unfolding glories; in consequence of which their knowledge
of his character will be more and more extensive — always per-
fect, and yet always increasing. Should they ever come to a stop
in their growth, and find that no further advance in knowledge
could be made, it would disappoint their hope and chill their joy.
But there is no danger of this. Let their capacities enlarge and
their knowledge grow, till they rise far above the highest angel,
there would still be an infinite height and depth, upon which they
might employ their minds millions of ages, and after all approach
no nearer to a full comprehension of the lofty theme. Here is the
intellectual blessedness of the saints above — their ever active
understanding constantly and successfully reaching towards the
heights and prying into the depths of the perfection of the Media-
tor, knowing more and more of this most excellent of beings, and
knowing at every step that there is boundless excellence beyond,
which will call forth their earnest and happy efforts through endless
ageS.
But the saints have a moral nature also- they have a heart.
And the heart inclines to love. And it must have an object of
supreme love. The heart pants after such an object, and would
be desolate and wretched without it. This want is fully supplied
to believers in the presence of Christ. In this world they begin
to love him, though they see him not, and though they have but a
feeble conception of his excellence. But what an object of affec-
tion will he be to them, when visibly clothed with the brightness
O F. M. R. S. F. A. R. R. A. R. . 341
of human and divine excellence in the world of light ! Love feasts
itself upon loveliness. Perfect loveliness satifies it. That perfect
loveliness they behold in the person of Jesus. And it is not only
perfect, but unbounded loveliness. The creation around us exhibits
unnumbered objects, beautiful and excellent in a high degree.
And in sanctified men and holy angels we see various forms of
moral beauty and excellence, eliciting our admiration and love,
and contributing to our enjoyment. But take the most illustrious
forms of moral beauty and loveliness in heaven and earth — take
all the beauty in God’s vast universe, and let it be concentrated
in one lovely, glorious person, with a lustre outshiming the sun in
the firmament, and what would all that splendor of excellence be
to the beauty and loveliness which the eyes of the saints will
behold in the Lord Jesus Christ, the king of glory ! Let their
hearts then swell with emotions of love, and let the emotions rise
higher and higher. Their happiness will increase with the in-
crease of their love, because the object is invested with incompre-
hensible, unbounded excellence, so that their love may grow
forever, and yet never equal the infinite worthiness of the object;
and I am almost ready to say, they will covet moral faculties which
are infinite, that they may love their Saviour as much as he
deserves. º
Secondly. Believers are happy in the presence of Christ,
because they see him to be so highly honored and glorified. On
earth their hearts were frequently grieved, that their Saviour, who
was worthy of universal honor and praise, was despised and
rejected of men, and his name covered with infamy. But how will
, they rejoice to see that he is now exalted, and has a name which is
above every name ! What sacred gladness will fill their souls, to
see every knee bow to him, and all the heavenly hosts prostrate
before him What music to their ears, to hear the holy creation
breaking forth in anthems of praise, saying, “Honor and glory
and thanksgiving and blessing and praise be unto him that sitteth
on the throne, and unto the Lamb.” Happy their ears, that hear
these anthems of praise from angels and Saints, to him who was
dead, but is alive again, and liveth and reigneth forevermore
29*
342 S E R M O N O N T H E DEATH
How do they exult and boast themselves in the glory of their
king ! And how is the benevolent prayer of Jesus fulfilled, that
his disciples might “be with him, and behold his glory.”
Thirdly. The saints are happy in the presence of Christ,
because they will see him to be perfectly blessed. Would it not
detract from their happiness, if their Saviour should in any way,
fall short of a blessedness equal to his boundless desires —if there
should be the least pain or suffering mingled with his divine or his
human blessedness? Does not the benevolence of Christians,
demand the happiness of him who is the chief object of their
love : My hearers well know that it is the very nature of finite
benevolence, to be a partaker of the sorrows as well as the joys
of others. Benevolence rejoices with them that rejoice, and weeps
with them that weep. But in the presence of Jesus the Saints have
no occasion for weeping. They do indeed remember that, while on
earth, he was a man of Sorrows and acquainted with grief, and
that when the burden of our guilt was ſaid upon him in the closing
scene of his life, his “soul was exceedingly sorrowful, even unto
death.” And who that truly loved him then, could be joyful and
happy to see the distress which he endured in the garden and on
the cross % But his sorrows are ended. He dies no more, and he
suffers no more. On the cross he finished the work of atonement.
He is to be made a curse for us no more. He does not forget the
sorrows he once felt — the scourging and the Scorn, the nails and
the thirst, the long agony, the forsaking of his God, and the last
loud cry of distress. But he rejoices that these are all past, and
that the result of them is experienced by his people in their eternal
salvation. The Son of God is blessed in himself — and blessed in
communion with his Father — blessed in all his works — blessed
in beholding the happiness of angels, principalities and powers —
blessed especially in seeing his redeemed church washed from
their sins, delivered from all their tribulations and sorrows, and
made perfectly happy in the enjoyment of his fulness. His
blessedness is a benevolent and holy blessedness, and is commen-
Surate with his boundless perfections. In view of this immeasura-
ble blessedness of Christ, the saints in heaven rejoice with joy
unspeakable and full of glory. .
of MRs. FARRAR. 343
But fourthly, the saints above are social beings ; and they
enjoy, first of all, the society of Jesus himself, which is better to
them than the society of all created beings. Should no Saint or
angel be near them, they would have a fulness of joy in Christ
alone. The presence and converse of that one Friend and
Brother, would be heaven to their souls. But no man can count
up the holy, happy beings who are with them in the world above.
A multitude which no man can number, possessing their own
nature, delivered from the same depths of sin and misery, are
with the saints in the presence of their common Lord. And who
can tell what sweet intercourse they have with that holy company,
especially those with whom they were associated on earth ! With
what lively emotions do they speak to each other of the events of
their earthly life How do they recall the scenes through which
they passed together ; the trials they encountered; the tempta-
tions and sins and dangers from which they were delivered; the
errors which have been corrected; the evil tempers which have
been subdued; the spiritual enemies—the roaring lion, the subtle
Serpent, and the ravenous wolf, that have been overcome ; the
mysteries of providence which have been unravelled; and the
wonders of divine forbearance and grace which they experienced
together during their unprofitable life How do they look at each
other, rejoicing that they are all safe in the heavenly Paradise,
and full of delight and astonishment at the change which they see
in themselves and in one another ; change from the vileness of sin
to the beauties of holiness; change from ignorance and error to
the clear knowledge of truth, from weakness and suffering to
strength and joy, their complaints all turned to thanksgiving and
praise ! They remember that they were once travelling the broad
way to death, and were afterwards feeble Christians, often back-
sliding, often in the dark, mourning over the treachery and cor-
ruption of their hearts, reaching after perfection but never
attaining to it. They give glory to him who rescued them from
all those evils, and brought them to their home in the heavens.
They give glory to their Redeemer, who has enriched them with
his unsearchable riches, and given them the right to say, All
344 S ER. M. O N ON TEIE DEATH
|
things are ours. The purest pleasures of Christian friendship
here below, are not worthy to be compared with the pleasures of
that more endearing friendship and intercourse, which is the lot
of the happy family of believers in the presence of Christ.
Fifthly. Christians are active beings; and there is that in the
presence of Christ, which calls all their active powers into the most
pleasurable exercise.
We are taught, that Christians in the world above rest from
their wearisome toils, and repose quietly in the love and enjoyment
of their Saviour. But they have employments suited to all their
active powers. Cordial obedience to Christ and constant activity
in his service, is perfect rest to the Saints above, because all
hinderances to easy, pleasant action — all clogs, all weakness and
sickness, all deadness and heaviness are gone, and they are as the
angels in heaven, who, for their readiness and swiftness to obey,
are likened to the wind and the lightning.
The Lord Jesus Christ has a mighty empire, and its inhabitants
. who are ten thousand times more in number than this world could
contain, all depend on the free goodness of their Sovereign, and
are to be made happy and to be continued in their happy state by
the constant exercise of his power and benevolence. But while
he is, and will forever be seen to be, all in all, he makes use of
his angels and Saints as instruments of his benevolence. He
communicates blessings to his kingdom through the agency of his
servants. And no one can describe the variety, the extent, or the
magnitude of the works which they will be called to accomplish in
different parts of the wide universe. In these works they most
cheerfully engage, because their pious hearts love to obey their
righteous Lord, and their benevolent hearts love to do good to
rational, immortal beings, wherever found. They love their
neighbors as themselves. And they love a neighboring world, as
they love their own. And in the high station they occupy, all
worlds will appear to them to be what they really are, one neigh-
borhood, one great, happy fraternity, to whose welfare they are to
minister. It seems to me that the Saints in heaven are as much
more active than they ever were in this world, as they are more
O F M R. S. F. A. R. R. A. R. . 345
holy, and more benevolent, and endued with higher powers. They
will no more cease to be active, than they will cease to love Christ
and his kingdom. They will be active forever, because the Son
of God will be active forever, and they are to be co-workers with
him in accomplishing his benevolent designs. And this benevolent,
useful service will be to them a perpetual source of the purest
enjoyment.
The sum of what I have to say on this point is, that when
Christians are where Jesus is, they bear his likeness; and as he
is unceasingly engaged in doing good — as he constantly exercises
his infinite power and wisdom and love in bestowing the richest
blessings upon his vast kingdom; so those who are admitted into
his presence do constantly, without weariness, and with heartfelt
delight, exercise all their powers and faculties in accomplishing the
same benevolent object, feeling it to be a high privilege and honor
to coöperate with him, and to imitate, in their humble measure, his
ever active goodness.
But if the saints are employed in works of benevolence in various
and different parts of the creation, you may ask, how they can at
the same time be in the presence of Christ? My reply is, that
Christ is present everywhere, sustaining and governing the uni-
verse. But he is specially present with his servants. Wherever
they are, he can reveal himself to them in all the gloriousness of
his perfections. While they are doing his will in the most distant
regions of his vast empire, he can give them the happiness to see
his face, and to enjoy communion with him. Even in this lower
state of being, do not faithful Christians enjoy nearness to their
Lord 7 Are they barred from his gracious presence, because
they are in India, or China, in the dark regions of Africa, or in
the wilds of America. 7 What think you of the precious promise
of Christ, that he will be with his disciples, whenever and
wherever they call upon him 7 And what think you of their
united testimony, that his promise has been fulfilled, and that they
have in truth enjoyed his spiritual presence, and seen his glory,
in devout meditation and prayer, and at the Sacramental table,
and while engaged in arduous duties, and enduring severe afflic-
346 S E R M O N O N T H E D E A TH
tions? And in that higher and more spiritual world, where the
Sun of Righteousness continually shines forth, making every part
luminous with the beams of his noon-day glory, cannot that glori-
ous Sun be everywhere seen 3 Cannot the Lord of heaven
enlighten the eyes of his devoted servants, wherever they are,
and show them his glory, and show them that he is near to them,
and speak to them words of kindness, and hear the expressions
of love and desire which their lips or their hearts utter? My
brethren, the Lord Jesus is spiritually and graciously present
throughout the holy universe — present to illuminate the souls of
his servants—present to sustain and comfort them, and to hold
familiar converse with them ; so that in every place they are
really nearer to him, than the beloved disciple was, when he
leaned upon his bosom. Dismiss then every carnal idea ; and
know for a certainty, that the Saints above are always with Jesus
where he is — that whatever they do and wherever they go, they
are never deprived of his presence, that he never hides his face
from them, and that what he prayed for is now perfectly fuſilled
—“he in them, and they in him.” This is the presence of
Christ which they desire, and which is life and peace to their
Souls.
I have only one point more. Christians desire their own per-
fect holiness ; and the presence of Christ will effectually contribute
to this.
The Apostle John says: “We shall be like him, for we shall see
him as he is.” The Apostle Paul brings the same principle into
view respecting Christians here: “Beholding as in a glass the
glory of the Lord, we are changed into the same image from
glory to glory.” There is a way of beholding the glory of the
Lord, even in this life, which has a transforming influence. This
takes place when God shines in the hearts of his people, enabling
them to know the things of the Spirit as they are spiritually dis-
cerned. Then they see the true excellence of Christ; and seeing,
love; and loving, imitate. This is God’s method. The trans-
forming process begins in this world, and would be advanced far
more rapidly than it is, if believers would make more of this one
OF MRS. F.A.R.R.A.R. 34'ſ
simple, gospel means, that is, fixing their eyes earnestly and
directly upon him who is their chosen Saviour, and beholding
steadily the combination of unparalleled beauties and excellences
which his character displays. When Christians enter on their hea-
venly state, and are received into the presence of Christ, they are
already free from the pollution of sin, and conformed to the image
of Christ. But the principle of holiness, already wrought in them
by the Spirit of God, must be preserved and developed, and made
active in all the ways of love and obedience — active in a higher
and higher degree. And this is effected in the presence of Christ.
“They will be like him, for they shall see him as he is.” They
will be completely like him. If they saw any sin in themselves,
any the least spot of moral defilement, they would be filled with
shame and self-loathing, and would be dismayed to see the eyes
of their holy Saviour upon them. But sin can find no admittance
into that world of purity. There can be no darkness in that
world of light. The glorious holiness of Christ will be like the
clear light of the sun, which effectually diffuses itself, and
instantly illuminates whatever is within its reach. The holiness
of Christ is clear and bright—it is light itself, and in it is “no
darkness at all.” And this holy light pours light into the souls
of the just, and that light is life. *
I hope, Christian friends, I have not detained your thoughts
too long upon this pleasant theme. My object has been to
impress it deeply and permanently upon your hearts, that in the
presence of Christ is fulness of joy — that at his right hand are
pleasures forevermore. I have wished it to be believed and felt
by all, that when Christ prayed that his disciples might be with
him where he is, he showed the kindness of his heart, and asked
for that which is the greatest possible good; that being present
with the Lord is heaven indeed to holy souls — a heaven which
will most delightfully employ all their active powers, and fill them
with pure and ever increasing enjoyment—leaving no desire
unsatisfied, no want unsupplied. And the end which I aim at is,
that strong desires after heaven may be kindled in your breasts;
that you may habitually long and pant after the blessedness of
348 SERM O N O N T EIF D E A TH
those who are absent from the body and present with the Lord, and
may be awakened to the utmost diligence in preparing for that
consummation of your joy.
The mournful event which has called us together, suggested
the subject of this discourse. And my particular acquaintance
with the religious views of our “departed friend, and of other
Christians, has suggested the train of remarks which I have made
on this occasion.
A particular delineation of the life and character of the amia-
ble and pious woman, who has been removed from this church,
and from our domestic and social circle, is not to be expected on
this occasion. Her numerous relatives and friends need no assist-
ance from me in forming a just estimate of her intellectual and
moral worth. And if I should begin to tell you just what I think
of the leading attributes of her character, as exhibited in the
various relations and conditions of life which she filled, I should at
once be checked by what I know of her decided aversion to all
high encomiums upon the living or the dead. I shall therefore
attempt nothing but to touch briefly upon what pertained to her
religious character. i
The religion of our beloved friend, Mrs. Farrar, was marked
with uniform seriousness and earnestness. But it had nothing
enthusiastic or rapturous. Her understanding was too enlighten-
ed and discriminating to admit of this. She possessed a calm,
well balanced state of mind, free from fervid excitements. Her
hope of heaven, though sometimes clear and joyous, was for the
most part a trembling hope, and was occasionally clouded, and
mingled with doubts and fears. This fact I found to arise from
her habitually and strictly searching her own heart, and from her
clear discernment of indwelling sin. By comparing herself with
the holy requirements of God’s law, she discovered many evils in
herself which no human eye could see, and which often kept her
from those higher consolations, to which her uniformly pious char-
acter seemed to give her a title. She derived her best enjoy-
ments, not from reflecting on the state of her own heart, or the
actions of her life, but from the excellence and grace of that
O F M R. S. F. A. R. R. A. R. . 349
Saviour in whom she believed, and from the distinguishing doc-
trines of his gospel. While she contemplated these divine ob-
jects she experienced joys which were truly Christian, and which
her consciousness of imperfection and demerit could not take
away.
Her conceptions of the nature and the truths of religion were
derived from the word of God, and were consonant to the views
of her excellent grandfather, Jonathan Edwards, who has been
the boast of our country, and has justly been styled the Prince
of Divines. It was no small privilege to be a descendant of such
an eminent Christian and divine; and it was a great happiness
that she early imbibed the sentiments and the spirit which per-
vade his writings, and which adorned his useful life. And it was
very manifest, that those precious truths which she had deliberately
adopted and which had been the ground of her hope and comfort
for so long a time, shed a cheering light upon her during the last
days and hours of her mortal life. Repeating to her select pas-
sages of Scripture, or referring to the abounding mercy of Christ,
or to any gospel truth, would instantly compose her mind, and
impart light and life to her soul, struggling with pain, and hasten-
ing to her happy home in the heavens. -
But I have a special purpose in view in these closing observa
tions. It has, I trust, been made to appear, that the heaven of
Christians is, to be with Christ. Now it is evident to me that
Mrs. Farrar had a fitness for such a heaven as this. The habits
of her mind and her religious character were such, as to prepare
her to be happy in the presence of Christ.
This preparation in a general view, consisted in her love to the
Saviour. And if she loved the Saviour she must find it heaven
to be with him where he is.
Our friend aspired after knowledge; particularly the knowledge
of Christ and the things of his kingdom. And how happy must
such a one be in the presence of Christ, the light and glory of
heaven, where her mind will see clearly what it began to see and
was earnestly reaching after here below, and will be forever
acquiring clearer and clearer knowledge of that which is most
WOL. W. 30
350 S E. R. M. O N O N T B E D E A TEI
worthy to be known, and which she most desired to know. How
indescribably happy must she be, to behold the unveiled beauties of
him, “whom having not seen" she loved, and whom she sincerely
desired to love more — and whom she now loves “with all the
heart and soul and mind and strength.”
Our departed friend was desirous that Christ should be exalted
and honored. And this desire prepared her to rejoice with ex-
ceeding joy in beholding his exaltation and glory in the world
above, and in hearing the praises which are sung to him by the
great multitude of the heavenly hosts.
The religion of our departed friend was remarkably social.
She had a sincere and constant affection for her pious friends;
and she loved all who showed themselves followers of Christ,
And this benevolent affection was uniformly acted out in the vari-
ous conditions which divine providence allotted to her. I cannot
speak of the multitudes who enjoyed the friendship of Mrs. Far-
rar, and who will remember as long as memory lasts, that gener-
ous hospitality which formed so conspicuous a trait in her domestic
character. This sanctified affection, which bore such precious
fruits on earth, prepared her to enter with joy into the society of
heaven; prepared her for a happy meeting with the many Chris-
tian friends, who had gone before her to the presence of their
Saviour. What unutterable pleasure must she experience in
such a lovely, peaceful, holy Society — waiting a little while for
other beloved Christians to come and fill up the happy family of
Christ. .
While here below, Mrs. Farrar began to be active in the service
of Christ, and took great pleasure in the efforts she was able to
make to promote the cause of truth, and the welfare of immortal
souls. With the same habit of mind, improved and perfected, in
the upper world, she is swift to do the will of God, and exceed-
ingly happy in her obedience.
And finally, she mourned and was humbled on account of the
weakness of her faith, and her manifold imperfections, and aspir–
ed after likeness to Christ. This prepared her to be admitted
into the presence of her Lord, where she is like him, because she
O F M R. S. F. A. R. R. A. R. . 351
sees him as he is — where she beholds his glory and is changed
into the same image from glory to glory.
And now may the Lord be graciously present with these mourn—
ing friends, the bereaved husband and children, and other rela-.
tives. You Sorrow not as those who have no hope and no comfort.
For henceforth you are to think of her who is taken from you,
as present with the Lord. She has reached her home. She has,
we trust. obtained all and more than all that her heart ever desir-
ed or conceived.
You will not forget my friends, that you have been highly
favored of God in being blessed with such a partner, such a
mother, such a friend— and in being blessed with her so long.
How grateful should you be for this inestimable favor And how
heartily should you thank a merciful God, for what he was pleased
to do for that dear friend of yours, who is here no more ; for
calling her early in life, as we trust he did, with a holy calling,
according to his purpose and grace ; for giving her such a mea-
sure of piety and peace; for sustaining her under her trials, and
helping her in her spiritual warfare, and making her the instru-
ment of so much temporal and eternal good to those connected
with her. Let your mourning be sanctified by the mingling
in of fervent thanks and praises to the God of all grace and
comfort.
And now, Christian friends, ponder well the present subject and
the present occasion. God is speaking to you. “Arise, for this
is not your rest.” If you love Christ and enjoy his presence,
you have a foretaste of heaven. But heaven is not here. Your
portion is above. Jesus said to his disciples, “In my Father's
house are many mansions — I go to prepare a place for you ; and
if I go to prepare a place for you, I will come again and receive
you to myself, that where I am, there ye may be also.” He says
the same to you. Think then of the place prepared for you
above. Look not at the things which are seem, but at the things
which are not seen. Let nothing draw off your thoughts from
your inheritance in the heavens. Jesus, says, behold, I come
quickly. Lift up your heads with joy, for your redemption draw-
352 SERM ON ON THE DEATH OF MIR.S. FAR RAR.
eth migh. Your time to die is near at hand; and death to believ-
ers is the gate of Paradise. Away then with all vain pursuits
and distracting cares. What have you to do with the things of
..earth 7 Awake, Christian, heir of heaven— arise — put your
house in order—and put your heart in order; for Verily I Say
unto you, to-morrow you shall be with Christ in Paradise.
A S E R M 0 N
DELIVERED AT THE ORDINATION OF SAMUEL NEWELL, ADONIRAM JUDSON, SAM-
UEL NOTT, GORDON HALL, AND LUTHER RICE, FIRST MISSIONARIES FROM
AMERICA TO THE HEATHEN IN ASLA. SALEM, FEB. 6, 1812.
Psalm 67.- GOD BE MERCIFUL UNTO US, AND BLEss Us; AND CAUSE HIS
FACE To SHINE UPON US. THAT THY WAY MAY BE KNowN UPON EARTH,
THY SAVING HEALTH AMONG ALL NATIONS. LET THE PEOPLE PRAISE
THEE, O GOD ; LET ALL THE PEOPLE PRAISE THEE. LET THE NATIONS
BE GLAD AND SING FOR JOY, LET THE PEOPLE PRAISE THEE, o GoD;
LET ALL THE PEOPLE PRAISE TIIEE. GOD SHALL BLEss Us; AND ALL
TEIE ENDS OF TELE EARTH SLIALL FEAR EIIM.
No intelligent Christian can be a stranger to the benevolent
desires and pleasing anticipations here expressed. Every good
man has a heart to feel for his fellow creatures, and endeavors to
promote their temporal welfare. But, when he contemplates
the value of their immortal Souls, and what Jesus has done to save
them from perdition, his tenderest affections are kindled; pure
and heavenly love pervades and warms his heart. He longs for
the eternal felicity of his kindred and friends, his country and the
world. His desire and prayer is, that all human beings may for-
sake their evil ways and turn to the Lord. With this holy affec-
tion reigning in his heart, the devoted Christian presents himself
a living sacrifice unto God; and counts it a privilege to do and
to suffer anything for the advancement of his cause. He is ready
30*
354 O R. D. IN ATION OF
to “endure all things for the elect’s sake.” In this state, no
difficulty discourages, no danger alarms him. Stripes, imprison-
ment and death lose their terrors. Every degree of success
attending the dispensation of the gospel yields him the purest
pleasure. But this pleasure increases his pious desire. The pro-
gressive enlargement of the kingdom of Christ will constantly
enlarge the benevolence of his heart. While there is a nation
or tribe under heaven not subdued to Christ; the fervent Chris–
tian cannot rest. His unalterable object is, that the knowledge
of the Lord may fill the earth.
This, brethren, is the true spirit of our religion. This is the
affection which glows in every new born soul. This is the prin-
ciple which governs and animates the church of Christ.
On this new and interesting occasion, my desire is to excite
your benevolence, and to persuade you by suitable motives, TO
MAKE THE SPREAD OF THE GOSPEL AND THE CONVERSION OF THE
WORLD, THE OBJECT OF YOUR EARNEST AND CONSTANT PURSUIT.
My first motive is the worth of the soul. Man, a creature of
yesterday, is made for immortality. The human mind will be ever
active. No labor can exhaust it. No length of ages can waste
its vigor. No pressure of guilt or suffering can destroy its activity.
Such a mind, destined to exist and act forever, destined to the
bliss of heaven, or the pains of hell, lives in every human being,
in the savage as well as the citizen; in the heathen as well as
the Christian; in the Hindoo, the Chinese, and the Hottentot, as
well as the European or American. —In the name of him who
died on Calvary, I call upon you, Christians, to labor for the Sal-
vation of beings that will never die. Of what consideration is
their color, language, education, or manners? Here all distinc-
tions vanish. Learned and ignorant, refined and rude, honorable
and base, are all on a level in point of accountableness to God
and immortality of Soul. Rise then above all the distinctions
which misguide our judgments, and seek the Salvation of this
great family of immortal beings.
In some favored hours of divine illumination, have you not seen
and felt the ineffable preciousness of your own souls 7 Have you
FO R. EIGN MISSION A. R. IIB. S. 355
not cast away everything as dross, for eternal salvation ? And
has not the grace of God taught you to love your neighbor as,
yourselves 7 See the millions who dwell in darkness. Their souls
are as precious as your own. The wisdom of God—the blood
of the dying Saviour has so declared. Change places with them.
Put yourselves in their condition, and them in yours. You are
then spending your life in a land of darkness, ignorant of God,
slaves to the basest superstition and most hateful vices. Moved
by pity and love, they send a herald of the cross to preach sal
vation in your ears. He comes and speaks to you of Jehovah
and his law; discloses your guilt, and points you to the judgment
day. He preaches to you Jesus, the Saviour of sinners. With
trembling, broken hearts you go to the Saviour, and he gives you
rest. How happy your state Would you not forever exalt the
Redeemer’s name 7 Would you not love and thank the messen-
ger of his grace, and those who sent him 7 Now, if Salvation
would be so great a blessing to you, why not to those who are
actually in the condition here supposed ? And if you would love
and thank those who sought your Salvation, why not secure to
yourselves the same love and gratitude from heathens saved by
your labors?
Imagine your children, parents, brothers, sisters this moment
in pagan darkness. Would not your hearts leap for joy to see
these dear young ministers going to teach them the way of life 2
Would anything be too precious to part with in order to animate
their zeal, and help them to rescue from ignorance and ruin the
objects of your love? But have not the heathen Souls as precious
as the souls of your kindred 7 — Nay, they are your kindred;
allied to you by the ties of a common nature; children of the
same family. In every human being you See a brother or a
sister.
The second motive by which I urge you to seek the conversion
of all mankind is the plenteousness of the provision which Christ
has made for their salvation. Were there anything Scanty in this
provision, anything circumscribed in the offers of mercy, our zeal
for propagating the gospel would be suppressed; the hand of
356 - OR DIN ATION OF
Christian charity would be paralyzed. But the word of eternal
truth has taught us that Jesus is the propitiation for our sins, and
not for ours only, but also for the sins of the whole world; that a
rich feast is prepared, and all things ready; that whosoever will
may come and take of the water of life freely. This great atone-
ment is as sufficient for Asiatics and Africans, as for us. The
door of Christ's kingdom is equally open to them and to us. Un-
numbered millions of our race have entered in; and yet there is
room. The mercy of God is an exhaustless ocean. His benevo-
lence is unbounded. You have, then, full scope for your pious
efforts. In your labors and prayers for the salvation of men, you
cannot go beyond the proper bounds. You are not straitened in
God. You have no occasion to fear that in this cause your zeal
and activity will exceed the abundance of divine grace. You
have a warrant from God to strive for the salvation of the whole
world. And wherever the preaching of the cross shall excite
them that are lost to seek salvation, their Salvation will be found.
Persuade the whole heathen world to enter into the kingdom of
Christ, and they will all be admitted. Every perishing sinner on
earth would find the same welcome with yourselves. Remember
then, Christians, you cannot exhaust the mercy of God. Exert
yourselves to the utmost for the salvation of mankind; your exer-
tions will fall far short of the length and breadth of redeeming love.
The third motive, I shall present, is the command of our Lord;
– “Go ye into all the world, and preach the gospel to every crea-
ture.” This command is an expression of the heart of Jesus; a
display of the vastness of his love. It would be very easy to
show that the obligation of this command is limited to no age or
nation. The reasons which moved the apostles to preach the
gospel to every creature, remain in full force. Nations without
the gospel are as wretched now as they were in the time of the
apostles. Their salvation is as important, and as easily accom-
plished. -
Will any say this command is obligatory upon the ambassadors
of Christ, and not upon private Christians ? It is indeed the
duty of ambassadors of Christ to go and preach the gospel to all
FO R. EIGN MISSION ARIES. 357
the world. The Messiah is given to be a light to the Gentiles.
They must hear the glad tidings. “But how can they hear with-
out a preacher? And how can they preach, except they be sent’”
If ministers must go forth, the Christian world must send them.
If they must devote their life to the business of evangelizing the
heathen, the Christian world must support them. -
Does the thought arise, that the apostles went forth without
such support 2 They did ; — for there was no Christian nation
overflowing with wealth, to support them. But whatever their
peculiar circumstances obliged them to do, the general maxim
which they laid down was, “that no man goeth a warfare at his
own charges.” *
But I make my appeal to your generosity. Those who go to
teach your brethren in pagan lands, must be maintained. But at
present they cannot, receive maintenance there. The heathen
must be converted, and formed into Christian societies, before
adequate provision for the ministers of Christ can be expected
from them. Will you then see your missionaries, who have left all
to preach the gospel of peace among the heathem, reduced to the
necessity of abandoming their sacred office, and engaging in
servile labor for their daily bread 7 Will you see the ambassadors
of peace from America, clothed in rags, and compelled to beg
or starve : And must they tell the heathen that they are thus
forsaken of their Christian brethren who have enough and to spare :
It is obvious, that the Christian community at large has a deep
concern in the command of Christ, “to go into all the world and
preach the gospel to every creature.” I urge this command of our
risen Saviour, as absolutely requiring you to seek the conversion of
the world. The command was given just before our Lord ascended
into heaven. He had finished his work on earth, and was about to
return to his Father and our Father, to his God and our God. He
knew the ruined state of man, and the saving power of his cross.
With the love and authority of the King of Zion, he gave the
command, to evangelize all nations. And who that has the heart
of a Christian can refuse obedience 2
My fourth motive is derived from the conduct of those who
358 O R D IN ATION OF
received this command, and of Christian missionaries in succeeding
times. The apostles “went forth, and preached everywhere.”
They travelled into various parts of the idolatrous world, calling
sinners to repentance, planting and watering churches, and
encountering cruel persecutions. Their invariable object was, that
God’s way might be known upon earth, and his salvation to all
nations. -
The same spirit appeared in primitive Christians. They assisted
the apostles in their journies, and contributed in various ways to the
propagation of the Christian religion.
How excellent the spirit of the apostles, and of those early con-
verts to the Christian faith ! Read the history of their self-denying
labors, their deprivations and sufferings, and their inextinguisha-
ble zeal for the salvation of sinners. Read too the history of
what has in later times been done in Europe, Asia, Africa, and
America. While you revolve these things, do not your hearts
burn within you? Do you not look with admiration upon the
faithful followers of Christ 7 and do you not long to be partakers
of their labors and sufferings, their success, and their crowns of
glory?
My fifth motive is derived from the peculiar design of Chris-
tianity, and its adaptedness to be a universal religion. Brethren,
we are not disciples of Judaism. But have we not had too much
of its limited spirit Have we not thought it enough to enjoy
the Scriptures and the ministers of religion ourselves, without any
care to send them to other nations : But why should we indulge
feelings so adverse to the Christian dispensation, and limit that,
which its divine author has left unlimited 7 Why should we
monopolize a religion to which all nations have an equal right, and
which is adapted to universal use ? Why should we, who profess
to believe and love Christianity, adopt principles so contrary to its
celestial nature, and its diffusive, benign tendency 3
My sixth motive is derived from prophecy. When we have
looked upon the millions of men who are uncivilized, degraded,
without God and without hope, have we not been inclined to give
up their conversion as hopeless ? And if it has not been the lan.
F O R. EIGN MISSION A R.I.E.S. 359
&
guage of our lips, has it not been our feeling, that the kingdom
of Christ will stop where it is, that the obstacles in the way of
Christianizing the nations of the earth are too great to be sur-
mounted; and that the most we can expect is to maintain the
ground already secured. To raise you above this discouragement
and indolence, I open to you the prophetic page. “He shall see
the travail of his soul and be satisfied.” “It is a light thing that
thou shouldst be my servant, to raise up the tribes of Jacob, and
to restore the preserved of Israel; — I will also give thee for a
light to the Gentiles, that thou mayest be my Salvation to the ends
of the earth. Ask of me, and I will give thee the heathen for
thine inheritance, and the uttermost parts of the earth for thy
possession. Thus saith the Lord God; behold I will lift up my
hand to the Gentiles, and set up my standard to the people.—
All the ends of the earth shall see the salvation of God.” These
glorious predictions shall not fail of accomplishment. These
unchangeable decrees of the Almighty shall not be frustrated.
Heaven and earth shall pass away, but not one jot or tittle of these
promises shall fail. .
When we survey the idolatrous, barbarous nations of the world,
our courage flags; and we ask, with desponding hearts, can these
dry bones live? We forget the everlasting God, the Lord, the
Creator of the ends of the earth, who fainteth not, neither is
weary. We forget that all nations are in his hands; that he
fashioneth them as he pleaseth. Because the conversion of the
world is beyond our power, we think it beyºnd the power of God.
Well may Christ say to us, “O ye of little faith !” Did Paul
indulge such despondency when with the ardor of a young con-
vert, and the fearless fidelity of an Apostle, he preached the word
of God in Greece, in Asia, and in Rome 7 Did Wickliffe indulge
such feelings? Did Luther ? Did Swartz, Eliott, Brainerd 7
Away with every unbelieving thought ! Is the Lord’s arm short-
ened that it cannot save : He who died and lives again, is not
get satisfied. Eighteen hundred years ago he said: “And I, if I
be lifted up from the earth, will draw all men writo me.” And
he said, more than two thousand years ago : “Look unto me, and
360 O R. DIN ATION OF
be ye saved, all the ends of the earth; for I am God, and there
is none else.” This word has not returned unto him void. The
whole Christian world testifies, that it has been astonishingly
efficacious. It will be still more effigacious. To him, with whom
a thousand years are as one day, and one day as a thousand years,
the things which he has foretold or determined, are as certain as
though actually accomplished.
Do you still hesitate, and yield to fear? And when you hear
God, by the mouth of a prophet, declaring: “From the rising of
the Sun even unto the going down of the same, my name shall be
great among the Gentiles; and in every place incense shall be
offered up unto my name and a pure offering; for my name shall be
great among the heathen ; ” do you ask, “how can this great
work be done 7 °
And let me ask, how the earth and all its inhabitants could be
created Ž How could the heavens be stretched out as a curtain
over your heads 7 What power is it that sustains the world, and
causes all its motions and changes 7 Do you talk of power & The
God who forms a blade of grass, and begets a drop of dew, can
as easily convert a Soul? And he who converts one Soul, can as
easily convert a nation. Every day, in the midst of heathen
lands, God exerts a power that can save a universe. Who gives
to the heathen life and breath, reason and conscience 2 Who causes
their sum to shine, and their ground to yield its fruits Say no
more, then ; how can the great work of converting the nations be
done 3 It is only for God to speak the word. He can cause
all Asia to bow to his grace, as easily as he can shake the leaves
of the forest.
IFinally, I point you to the operations of divine providence at the
present time. The Lord has given the word, and great has been
the company of the publishers. A large number of ministers of
different denominations, moved by the love of souls, have labored
in the gospel where Christ had not been named. The multiplica-
tion of Bible Societies in Great Britain and America, and the
success which has crowned their operations, have exceeded the
most sanguine hopes; and we are now looking forward to the time
FO REIGN MISSION AR II. S. 361
when all nations will read in their own tongues the words of
eternal life. Another delightful omen is the effusion of the Holy
Spirit, the revival of religion in several of our colleges, and in a
great number of churches and societies, and the increased atten-
tion of Christians to the interests of the Redeemer's kingdom.
It is also a circumstance highly encouraging, that among the
friends of evangelical religion greater love and harmony have
begun to appear. Christians of different denominations have all
been more or less disposed to attach too much importance to the
points in which they differ from each other. They have had party
spirit, and have often been more forward to proselyte to their own
sect, than to Christ. They have had contention, and strife, and
evil speaking among them. They have injured the truth by dis-
cussing the important subjects of disagreement without due meek-
ness and candor, and by laying out too much strength on those
which are unimportant. They have wanted some great object to
seize their hearts, some great and common cause in which they
might be purified from error, and in which the eternal truths of
revelation might be maintained with unyielding firmness, and
propagated with augmented zeal. The conversion of the world is
the very object wanted, the common cause which ought to
unite, and has already begun to unite the affections, prayers,
and labors of the great family of Christians. This harmonizing
spirit among the followers of Christ forbodes good to Zion. May
it increase, and diffuse its happy influence, till Christians shall all
be one.
DEAR YOUNG MISSIONARIES,
You have devoted your lives to the work of making known
among the Gentiles the unsearchable riches of Christ. We know
you do not leave your native land, because you have not the fairest
prospect of reputation, usefulness, and comfort here. You go,
we believe, because the love of God is shed abroad in your hearts
by the Holy Ghost. We look upon you, as chosen vessels unto
Christ, to bear his name before the Gentiles. Blessed be the Lord
God of the Gentiles, that he hath put this design into your hearts.
WOL. W. 31 ; : , , , , , , ;
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2
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362 O R D IN ATION OF
The cause in which you have enlisted, is the cause of divine love.
You have chosen the noblest and most honorable work on earth.
Dut it is also arduous and perilous. When you have seriously
contemplated the greatness of this enterprise, you have often
cried out : “Lord, if thy presence go not with us, carry us not
hence.” I hope you will never forget, that without Christ, you
can do nothing. Without his help you can no more advance his
kingdom among idolaters, than you can scatter the darkness of
midnight by a word. He that planteth is nothing, and he that
watereth is nothing. The increase is wholly of God. If you
should be forsaken of God, what would become of you ? and what
would become of your mission ? Your light would go out in
darkness. Shame and blushing would cover the faces of your
patrons and friends; and their hearts would die within them. The
bright and celestial flame, which has been kindling up among us,
— how soon would it be extinguished But if you go forth in
the strength of Christ, you will be burning and shining lights in
regions of darkness and death. We hope to hear good tidings of
great joy from the East. Think how it will be in Asia a century
or two hence. The kingdom of Christ, which you are sent to pro-
mote toward the rising of the Sun, will be “like a grain of mustard
Seed, which, when it is Sown in the earth, is less than all the seeds
that be in the earth. But when it is sown it groweth up, and
becometh greater than all herbs, and shooteth forth great
branches, so that the fowls of the air may lodge under the shadow
Of it.”
Dear young men, you are soon to leave your relatives and
friends, and your native land; but you are not to leave your
blessed Lord and Redeemer. The God whom you will worship on
the plains of Hindostan, will be the same God you have wor-
shipped here. The Saviour whom you will adore and serve there,
will be the very Saviour, whose glory you have seen and of whose
fulness you have received here. Go then, dear missionaries, with
the partners of your life ; and may God Almighty be your Pre-
server. Go, and “declare the glory of the Lord among the
heathen, his wonders among all people.” Esteem the reproach
o • *e
• * e
O
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• *
:
:
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e
sº
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FO R. EIGN MISSION AIR. II. S. 363
of Christ greater riches, than all the wealth of India. Our
affections and prayers will constantly attend you. All your suc-
cess, all your joys, and all your sorrows, will be ours. You will
be as dear to our hearts and as near to God and to heaven in
Asia, as in America. And if we are friends of God, our separa-
tion will be short. A few days hence, we hope to meet you, and
those whom your labors may rescue from pagan darkness, in the
presence of the Lord. With this joyful anticipation, I do now most
affectionately bid you, FAREWELL.
A S E R M 0 N
DELIVERED AT HAVERHILL, MASS. ON THE DEATH OF MRS. HARRIET NEWELL
WIFE OF THE REW. SAMUEL NEWELL, MISSIONARY.”
Matt. 19:29. — AND EVERY ONE THAT HATH Fors.AKEN HOUSES, OR BRETHREN,
OR SISTERS, OR FATHER, OR MOTHER, OR WIFE, OR CIIILDREN, OR LANDS,
FOR MY NAME's SAKE SHALL RECEIVE AN HUNDRED FOLD ; AND SHALL IN-
HERIT EVERLASTING LIFE.
THE character which Christ here exhibits before us, is superior
to the best character which was ever formed on mere worldly
principles, or which can spring from man’s unregenerate mature.
But you may ask, where this remarkable character can be found.
My reply is, that the character here set forth can be found in
every place and in every condition of life, where true and con-
sistent piety exists.
The devout cottager, far removed from public notice, and des-
tined to the humblest employments and to the evils of poverty,
possesses the substance of the character described in the text.
He gives himself and all that he has to the Lord. He loves
Christ above his cottage, his food, and every earthly object, and
is ready to part with them all for his sake. In the sight of God,
that poor man forsakes all for Christ. He who forsakes his sins,
—–-sº
* Mrs. Newell died at the Isle of France, Nov. 30, 1812.
S ERM O N ON THE DEATH OF H. N E W E L T, . 36.5
performs a far more difficult service, than he who forsakes
friends, houses, and lands. In the poor man’s heart may burn as
pure a flame of love and zeal, as in the heart of an apostle. It
may not be visible to the world; but it is visible to him who seeth
in secret. His prayers are animated by fervent affection for God
and man. And when he contributes his mite for the advancement
of the Redeemer’s kingdom, he does it with a heart large enough
to part with millions.
The character here exhibited belongs to the devoted Christian,
who is possessed of opulence. Though he may not literally forsake
houses and lands, he uses them for the glory of Christ, and is
ready, when duty calls, to surrender them for the same object.
To use riches for Christ, and to forsake them for Christ, evince
the same elevation above self-interest, and the same devotedness
to the cause of God. He, then, who values his estate for Christ's
sake, and uses it for the advancement of his cause, has the same
disposition with those, who for the same object actually suffer the
loss of all things. In heart he gives his earthly all to Christ;
saying with sincerity—here Lord, I am ; and here are my pos-
sessions. I will either use them, or part with them, for thy Sake,
as thou wilt.
The character presented in the text belongs to every faithful
minister of the gospel, even in the most peaceful days. Whatever
may be his earthly prospects, he cheerfully resigns them for
Christ's sake. The love of Christ bears him on. He declines no
labor, no sacrifice, no suffering. He foregoes indulgence and ease.
Worldly pursuits he abandons, and sets his affections on the king-
dom of Christ.
This character is strikingly exhibited by a devoted Christian in
times of persecution. He feels as Paul did, when his anxious friends
besought him not to go to Jerusalem. “What mean ye,” he said,
“to weep, and to break my heart? For I am ready not to be
bound only, but also to die at Jerusalem for the name of the Lord
Jesus.” In times of persecution and distress, the followers of
Christ are led to a more serious contemplation of the heavenly
inheritance, and naturally form a stronger and more operative
31*
866 SERM ON ON THE DEATH
attachment to that kingdom in which their all is contained.
Accordingly, they make a more direct and unreserved surrender
of everything for Christ, and become more consistent and decided
in their religious character. They are less ensnared by the
friendship of the world, and less awed by its frowns. The pros-
pect of suffering, as it becomes familiar to their minds, ceases to
alarm them. To give up the interests and pleasures of the world
for the sake of Christ, costs them no struggle and no sigh. Yea,
they rejoice in their sufferings, and gladly fill up what is wanting
of the afflictions of Christ in their flesh for his body's sake which
is the Church.
The Christian Missionary, whose motives correspond with his
office, forsakes all for Christ in an eminent degree. Others forsake
the world in affection, but enjoy it still. He renounces the enjoy-
ment, as well as the affections. Other Christians esteem Christ
above friends and possessions, and yet retain them far enough for
the gratification of their natural affection. The Missionary, who has
a right spirit, counteracts and mortifies natural affection, by actually
abandoning its dearest objects. The distinction in short is this ;
other Christians have a willingness to forsake all for Christ; the
Missionary actually forsakes all. The cause of Christ among the
heathen possesses attractions above all other objects. It has the
control of his heart. He forsakes father and mother, house and
land, because his heart burns with the holy desire, that Christ
may have the heathen for his inheritance, and the uttermost parts
of the earth for his possession.
The wife of a Missionary, when influenced by the Christian spirit
gives still more remarkable evidence of self-denial and devotion.
Tor her to forsake friends and country, is an instance of greater
self-denial. The tie, which binds her to her relatives and her
home, is stronger. Her mind is more sensible to the tenderness
of natural relations, and to the delights of domestic life. When,
therefore, she forsakes all for the name of Christ, she makes a
more costly sacrifice ; and thus *urnishes a more conspicuous
proof, that her love to Christ transcends all earthly affection.
Persons of the character above described, have existed in all ages
OF HARRIET NEWELL. 367
of Christianity. Indeed no other can be acknowledged, as
disciples of Christ. For he himself has declared, that whosoever
forsaketh not all that he, hath, cannot be his disciple. And to
teach us in the most forcible manner, that our affection for all
other objects must fall below our affection for him, he says: —
If any one come to me, and hate not his father, and mother, and
wife, and children, and brethren, and sisters, yea, and his own
life also, he cannot be my disciple. However severe these con-
ditions of discipleship may seem ; they have often been performed.
Yea, there are multitudes who daily perform them, who have that
supreme love for the Lord Jesus, which leaves little comparatively
for anything else. In the very act of faith, there is an implied
forsaking of all things for Christ. So that when the trial comes,
and they really forsake all things on his account, they only do in
open act, what they did in heart before. They made choice of
Christ and his ways, Christ and his cross. Had they certainly
known, when they first received Christ, that they did it at the
expense of earthly good, they would not have received him with
any less cordiality. Paul knew from the first, that he must
part with everything for Christ; — which was only parting with
trifles, to purchase a pearl of great price. “What things were
gain to me, those I counted loss for Christ. Yea, doubtless, and
I count all things loss for the excellency of the knowledge of
Christ Jesus my Lord; for whom I have suffered the loss of all
things, and do count them but dung, that I may win Christ.”
Such was the spirit and practice of the first Christians. They
rejoice that they were counted worthy to suffer for Christ. They
gladly took the spoiling of their goods, and endured persecution
and death. There are those at the present day, who possess the
same spirit; who willingly give up their worldly interest, that
Christ may be magnified; who hold nothing so dear, that they will
not cast it away for Christ's sake.
The reward of Christians is as certain, as their devotion to
Christ is sincere. They receive an hundred fold in this present
life. Great peace have they who love God’s law. The wicked
are like the troubled sea when it cannot rest, whose waters cast up
368 S EIR M O N O N THE DEATEI
mire and dirt. But cordial devotion to Christ imparts Serenity
and peace.
Devoted Christians enjoy the pleasures of benevolence. As
this is their ruling affection, they must be happy in proportion
as its object is promoted. In all that they do, and in all that
others do to advance the welfare of the Redeemer's kingdom, they
partake the purest pleasure. Let them see the glory of God
displayed in the Salvation of sinners; let them enjoy communion
with Christ and see his church look forth as the morning; and
they have enough. This is their treasure, the heritage which
they have chosen. The eternal glory of God and the boundless
good of his kingdom is an object infinitely excellent and worthy
of supreme regard. The pleasure of those who are devoted to
this glorious object, and see that it is perfectly secure, is a kind
of divine pleasure, partaking of the nature of its divine and in-
finite object. tº -
It is the uniform method of divine grace to give spiritual com-
fort to those, who are freed from earthly affection. The more
the world is excluded from the hearts of believers, the more they
are filled with all the fulness of God! What tongue can de-
scribe the happiness of the Saints, when they part with all that
they have for Christ, and when he fulfils his promises to them,
and gives them peace. Behold the apostles, in the midst of their
labors and sufferings. They speak of comfort in tribulation, of
joy unspeakable and full of glory.
But all the enjoyment of Christians in this life, is only the be-
ginning of their blessedness. The consummation of it is the
everlasting life which they will inherit in the world to come, con-
sisting in the perfect and endless enjoyment of God.
I have been led to this train of reflections by an event, which
has lately arrested our attention and caused feelings of unusual
interest among the friends of Christ. I refer to the lamented
death of Mrs. Harriet Newell — a woman who happily exemplified
the character which I have drawn. From the uniform tenor of
her conduct for several years, there is reason to believe, that she
truly forsook all for Christ, and received an hundred fold in this
O E EIA R. R. IIBT N E W E L L . 369
present life; and that she now inherits everlasting blessedness in
heaven. -
But let God have the glory of all the moral beauty which
adorned her character. If she was indeed what she appeared
to be, it was by the Washing of regeneration, and the renewing
of the Holy Ghost.
Before she gave satisfactory evidence of spiritual renovation,
she had a long season of distressing conviction, careful self-ex-
amination, and earnest prayer. Long before she thought her
own salvation secure, she began to exercise an enlarged affection
for the kingdom of Christ, and to be fervent in her prayers for
the building up of Zion, and the Salvation of the heathen. This
became the prominent feature of her religion — the supreme ob-
ject of her pursuits. A considerable time before a Foreign Mis-
sion from this country was contemplated, the universal diffusion
of the Christian religion was the favorite subject of her medita-
tions and prayers.
When in the course of divine providence one of those who had
devoted themselves to the Foreign Mission, sought her as the
companion of his labors, her great concern was to discover the
will of God. As soon as she became satisfied respecting her duty,
her determination was fixed. And here her character began to
assume a lustre, which excited the admiration of all who shared
her friendship. She consecrated herself to the establishment of
the kingdom of Christ in pagan lands. To this object all her
thoughts and studies, her desires and prayers tended. It was
only with a view to this, that she considered her talents and ac-
quirements of any special importance. Even her health and life
seemed of little consequence to her, except in relation to this
sacred object.
But this self-devotion had no tendency to blunt the sensibilities
of her heart, or to extinguish her natural affections. She had
these in all their vigor; but she had an affection which holds a
superiority over the natural affections and makes them subservi-
ent to its purposes. Had our natural affections been designed,
as the highest principles of action, the Lord Jesus would never .
370 SER. M. O N ON TEIB D E AT H
have set up another principle above them. If there was a dif-
ference between her pious affection and that of the bulk of Chris-
tians, it consisted in this, that hers was more earnest and undi-
vided. It is to this circumstance, that we must trace her peculiar
magnanimity, and elevation of spirit. As all the powers of her
soul were exerted for the attainment of one grand object, she
rose to an uncommon pitch of energy, and things seemingly
impossible to others, became practicable and easy to her.
In acquiring the force and decision of character which she
finally exhibited, it was of great importance that the question of
duty was fully settled in her own mind. Had not this been
done, she must have been often turned aside from her object by
misgivings of conscience. Her attachment to the object must
have been weakened, and every step must have been taken halt-
ingly and tremblingly. But by much deliberation, and prayer,
the question of duty had been settled ; after which she pro-
ceeded without wavering. Devoted, as she was, to the cause of
Christ, and borne on by a strong desire of advancing it in
heathen lands, she was prepared for trials. The hardships and
sufferings, peculiar to the missionary life, were so closely asso-
ciated in her mind with the glory of God, and the conversion of
the heathen, and the contemplation of them was so continually
mingled with her purest affections and joys, that instead of aver-
sion and dread, they excited sensations of delight.
The character of Mrs. Newell had an excellence above the
reach of mere human nature. Behold a tender female, when all
the sensibilities of the heart are most lively — united to friends
and country by a thousand ties; a female of refined education,
with delightful prospects in her own country — behold her volun-
tarily resigning so many dear earthly objects for a distant pagan
land. All these sacrifices she made calmly; with a sober de-
liberation; in the exercise of the most delicate sensibilities, and
yet with steady, unyielding firmness, and all this not for any
earthly object, but to make known among the heathen the un-
searchable riches of Christ.
I should blush to offer a vindication of a character so fair
O F. EIA R. R. IIB, T N E W E L L . 371
and exalted as that of Harriet Newell; — a lovely Saint, who has
finished her course, and gone to receive an unfading crown.
But if there is any one rash enough to impute extravagance and
folly; I will point him to a case not wholly unlike the present.
The Evangelist tells us that Mary came to Jesus as he sat at
meat, with an alabaster box of very precious ointment, and poured
it upon his head. Judas, and some others instigated by him,
charged her with extravagance and waste. But Jesus approved
her conduct, declaring that she had wrought a good work, and
that it should be made known for a memorial of her, wherever
the gospel should be preached.
Does any one think that “she threw herself away ?” But do
you not applaud the conduct of a man, who goes to the earth’s
end to gratify a worldly desire? And can you think it reasonable
to make greater sacrifices for self-interest, than for the kingdom
of Christ?—“Threw herself away !” —What! does a devoted
Christian, who, for the love of Jesus, forsakes all that she has, to
receive an hundred fold here, and life everlasting in heaven, throw
herself away ?
Do you ask what that hundred fold reward was º my appeal
would be to herself—to her peace, and quietness, and joy in
God. For several of the last months that she spent at home, and
from the time of her leaving America till her death, her re-
ligious enjoyment was almost constant, and at times, elevated.
In her last interview with her beloved friends in America, and
in the scene of final separation, the consolations of the Spirit
supported her, and produced not only meekness and calmness
of mind, but astonishing resolution. Her happy serenity con-
tinued through the dangers of a long voyage, and amid all the
difficulties which befel her after arriving in India. Her spiritual
enjoyment was not materially interrupted by the various dis-
tresses which prevented the establishment of the mission; nor by
the sufferings she was subsequently called to endure ; no, not
even by the pangs which rent her heart, over a dear infant child,
wasting away with sickness, and soon committed to a watery
grave. Through all this suffering, the Lord was with her and
372 . SERM ON O N THE DEATH
gave her rest. During her last tedious and perilous voyage—
separated by half the globe from the presence of a mother, whose
presence was more than ever needed—and without a single
female companion, she could thus write — “It is for Jesus, who
sacrificed the joys of his father's kingdom and expired on the
cross to redeem a fallen world, that thus I wander from place to
place, and feel no where at home. How reviving the thought !
How great the consolation it yields to my sinking heart!” “Let
the severest trials and disappointments fall to my lot; guilty and
weak as I am, yet I think I can rejoice in the Lord, and joy in
the God of salvation.”
In her last illness, which was attended with many distressing
circumstances, she possessed her soul in patience and peace.
God was pleased to manifest himself to her, as he does not to the
world. “During her whole sickness, she talked in the most
familiar manner, and with great delight, of death and the glory
that was to follow.” At a certain time, being advised by a
physician to cast off such gloomy thoughts, “she replied, that
those thoughts were cheering and joyful beyond what words
could express.” When it was intimated to her that she could
not live through another day; “0 joyful news / she replied, 1
long to depart;” and added soon after, that death appeared to
her truly welcome and glorious.
But the simple narrative of her afflicted husband shows, better
than anything which I can say, that amid all the pain and lan-
guishment of sickness, and in the near view of death, she had
that enjoyment of God her Saviour, and that hope of a blessed
immortality, which was an hundred fold better, than all she had
forsaken.
To her widowed Mother this is an affecting scene. But in the
midst of your Sorrows, dear Madam, forget not what reason you
have to be comforted. Remember the grace of God, which was
manifested to your dear Harriet; and which, we trust, sanctified
her heart. While you mourn for her early death, bless God that
you do not mourn over a child, who lived without God, and died
without hope. Call to remembrance her dutiful and pious tem-
O E EIA R. R. [ET N E W E L L . 373
per; her resolved and peaceful mind in the parting hour; and
the fortitude and resignation, which she afterwards exercised,
under her various afflictions. Give thanks to God for the conso-
lations which were afforded her throughout a languishing sickness.
Divine grace was honored by her amiable and Christian con-
duct. Through all her sufferings, especially when her dissolu-
tion drew near, she displayed a character that was ripe for
heaven. -
It must afford you peculiar satisfaction to contemplate the use-
fulness of her life. “That life is long which answers life’s great
end.” This was eminently the case with your beloved daughter.
Had she lived in retirement, or moved in a small circle, her in
fluence, though highly useful, must have been circumscribed.
But now, her character has been exhibited on the most extensive
theatre, and excited the attention and love of Christian nations.
Yea, may we not hope, that her name will be remembered by the
millions of Asia, whose Salvation she so ardently desired, and that
the Savor of her piety will, by divine grace be salutary to pagan
tribes yet unborn ?—What comforts are these ? — comforts, which
many mourning parents would gladly purchase with their lives.
Render thanks then to God, and magnify his name, that he has
given you a daughter so lovely in her character, so useful in her
life, so resigned in her sufferings, so tranquil in her death.
Dwell upon these cheering thoughts, and enjoy these comforts.
And may all your surviving children enjoy them too. In her
example, in her writings, and in her dying counsels, she has left
them a legacy, which cannot be too highly prized. Let me af-
fectionately entreat you, beloved friends, to attend seriously to
the weighty counsel which you have received from the dying lips
of your sister. In her name, in the name of her bereaved
husband, by whose request I now address you, and in the name
of her God and Saviour, I repeat that solemn counsel. “Tell
them, she said, tell them from the lips of their dying sister, that
there is nothing but religion worth living for. Oh, exhort them to
attend immediately to the care of their immortal Souls, and not to
delay repentance / Let my brothers and sisters know that I love
WOL. W. 32
374 SERM O N ON THIS DEATEI
them to the end. I hope to meet them in heaven. But oh, if I
should not l’” — No wonder that her tears and her sobs of grief
at the thought of an eternal separation from you, prevented her
saying more... “May the spirit of truth carry her dying entrea-
ties, and tears, and sighs to your hearts;” and engage you to
follow her as she followed Christ. She never repented of her
undertaking, never regretted leaving her native land for the
cause of Christ. And could she return and live on earth again,
so far from declining any of the sacrifices she made for the ad-
vancement of the Redeemer's cause; she would repair to him
earlier, give up all for him more cheerfully, and serve him with
greater zeal. -
In the death of Mrs. Newell her husband sustains a loss
which no language can adequately describe, and no earthly gºod
compensate. God, whose ways are unsearchable, has taken from
him the wife of his youth; a companion eminently qualified to
aid him in his labors, to soothe him in his sorrows, and to further
the great work in which he is engaged. Had he nothing but
earthly good to comfort him, a mind so quick to feel would be
overwhelmed with grief. But the God of all grace, who put it
into his heart to preach Salvation to those who are perishing for
lack of vision, will be the rock of his confidence, and a very
present help in trouble. It must be a subject of delightful re-
collection to our afflicted brother, that he has enjoyed the privi-
lege of being united, in the dearest of all relations, with one of
so amiable a temper; of an understanding so highly improved ;
of benevolence and piety so eminent. He will also love to re-
member the favor which God conferred upon his beloved partner,
in enabling her to do and suffer so much for the name of Jesus;
and in carrying her so quickly to the inheritance of the Saints in
light.
FRIENDS OF THE MISSIONARY CAUSE,
Let not your hearts be troubled by adverse circumstances.
Recollect the various hinderances, disappointments, and suffer-
ings, encountered by the apostles, the first missionaries of Christ,
OF HARRIET NEWELL. - 375
who yet were destined to spread the triumphs of his cross
through the world. The experience of ages leads us to expect
that designs of great moment, especially those which relate to the
advancement of Christ's kingdom, will be opposed by mighty
obstacles. The adverse circumstances, therefore, which have at-
tended the outset of our Foreign Mission, are far from pre-
senting any discouragement. They rather afford new evidence,
that this mission is to be numbered with all other enterprises,
adapted to promote the honor of God and the welfare of men.
These various trials, brethren, are doubtless intended not only
to qualify Missionaries for greater usefulness, but also to humble
and purify all who are laboring and praying for the conversion
of the heathen. The cause is the cause of God, and it is vain
to depend for its prosperity on human exertions. The death of
Mrs. Newell, instead of overcasting our prospects, will certainly
turn to the advantage of missions. The publication of her vir-
tues will quicken and edify thousands. It will also make it ap-
parent, that the missionary cause has attractions for the most
excellent characters. Her character will be identified with that
holy cause. Henceforth, every one, who remembers Harriet
Newell, will remember the Foreign Mission from America. And
every one who reads the history of this mission, will be sure to
remember her exemplary life and triumphant death. Thus all her
talents, the advantages of her education, the beauties of her mind,
the amiableness of her manners, her willingness to give up all
that was dear to her in her native land, her fervent love to Christ,
her desires, and prayers for the advancement of his kingdom, her
patience and fortitude in suffering, and the divine consolations
which she enjoyed, will all redound to the honor of that sacred
cause, to which she was devoted. Her life, measured by months
and years, was short; but far otherwise when measured by what
she achieved. She did not pray and suffer and die in vain.
Other causes may miscarry, but this will certainly triumph. The
Lord God of Israel has pledged his perfections for its success.
The time is at hand, when the various tribes of India, and all the
nations and kindreds of the earth shall bow the knee at the
376 SERM on ON THE DEATH OF H. NEWELL.
name of Jesus. He will see the travail of his soul, and all his
benevolent desires will be satisfied. The power of God will soon
accomplish a work, which, seen in distant prospect, has made
thousands, now sleeping in Jesus, leap for joy. O Swn of Right-
eousness, arise ; Shine upon the dark places of the earth; fill the
World with thy glorious light! Amen.
A S E R M 0 N
DELIVERED AT THE ORDINATION OF THE REV. JOIN W. ELLINGWOOD, AT BATH,
ME., NOW. 4, 1812, AND OF REV. JACOB IDE, D.D., AT MEDWAY, MASS., NOW. 2, 1814.
©
2 Tim. 2: 24, 25–THE SERVANT OF THE LORD MUST NoT STRIVE; BUT BE
GENTLE UNTO ALL MEN, APT TO TEACH, PATIENT ; IN MEEKNESS INSTRUCTING
TEIOSE THAT OPEOSE THEMSICLVES.
My principal reason for introducing this subject is, that it has
been treated less frequently than most other subjects which per-
tain to the pastoral office, and, as I think, less frequently than its
nature demands.
My single object is, to illustrate the peculiar importance of
meekness and gentleness in a minister of the gospel.
I begin by saying, that the Spirit of meekness and gentleness is
necessary to qualify a minister for the various duties of his office.
It is necessary to prepare him for the successful study of the
Scriptures. An Apostle directs us to “receive with meekness
the ingrafted word.” The predominance of those sinful passions
which are contrary to meekness, disqualifies a minister for profit-
able reading and meditation. It blinds the eyes of his under-
standing, gives a wrong bias to his judgment, and exposes him to
every kind of error. What confidence can his people have in the
conclusions to which he is conducted, while under the influence
32*
878 MEEKNESS AND GENTLENESS NEC Ess ARy
of pride, anger, or any disorderly affection ? But under the in-
fluence of meekness, he is prepared for profitable study. He is
sensible of his own ignorance and is ready to submit unreservedly
to the infallible word of God. He is willing to give up all the
results of unsanctified reason, and to believe every revealed truth
on the authority of inspiration. With a docile temper, he says,
“Speak, Lord, for thy servant heareth.” Time spent by a minis-
ter in Search of divine truth with such a disposition, will not be
spent in vain. The God of truth will be his teacher. “The
meek will he guide in judgment, and the meek will he teach his
way.”
Meekness and gentleness are necessary to prepare a minister to
teach the Christian religion and perform other ministerial duties,
with propriety and success. -
The Christian religion is a religion of love. It breathes peace
on earth and good will to men. A minister, who possesses the vir-
tues recommended in the text, imbibes the spirit of this religion,
and is prepared rightly to teach its doctrines and duties. But if
a man undertakes to preach the gospel without the spirit of meek-
mess and gentleness, there is a manifest repugnancy between his
office and his character. He calls upon others to exercise that
love, which has not been shed abroad in his own heart. He incul-
cates upon them the meekness and gentleness of Christ, when he
himself is destitute of those excellent virtues.
Meekness and gentleness are necessary to a preacher's accept-
ance. I mean not to suggest, that the best mode of exhibiting
the truth would reconcile the unsanctified heart to it, or cause the
offence of the cross to cease. But the preacher, who complies
with the Apostle's direction now before us, has nothing offensive
in his manner; and any opposition made against him is excited
purely by the holy nature of the truth itself, and not by any-
thing exceptionable in him, as a preacher. He will indeed love
the truth, and earnestly contend for it. But in the defence of
the truth he will be careful never to enlist his angry passions.
His tongue will never utter invectives against others, however they
differ in opinion. Nor is he transported to undue severity, either
TO A C EIRISTIAN MIN IS TIER, . 379
of language or feeling, against those who load him with reproaches
and injuries. The only methods which he employs to bring men
to the knowledge of the truth, are those which are dictated by
reason, compassion, and gentleness. Let a minister preach thus,
and his enemies will be able to find no occasion against him, except
concerning the law of his God.
Meekness and gentleness are peculiarly important to a preach-
er's success. “The wrath of man worketh not the righteousness
of God.” Acrimonious feelings and expressions are not the in-
struments, by which the cause of righteousness is to be promoted.
A minister is indeed engaged in a warfare; and he must contend
and fight in order to his success. But what is the nature of this
warfare 2 What is this contention, but a contention against the
disorderly affections of human mature ? Now with what weapons
will you carry On Such a warfare 7 Is a minister to use anger and
violence, to subdue anger and violence in others? All the doc-
trines of the Bible are to be taught, and all errors to be opposed.
The question is, in what manner 2 The Apostle answers: “The
Servant of the Lord must not strive, but be gentle unto all men,
patient, in meekness instructing those that oppose themselves.”
A minister, who follows this direction, has the brightest prospect
of success. Every one must perceive that this manner of teach-
ing corresponds with the nature of divine truth. The incompre-
hensible greatness and perfect holiness of the subjects of revela-
tion require, that they should be treated with Sacred composure
and meekness.—The least mixture of passion is inadmissible. Can
you excite love by the language of ill will 7 Can you attract men
to a heaven of peace, by displaying a spirit of strife 7 — to a
heaven of kindness, by a spirit of virulence 2 Can you success-
fully inculcate condescension, forgiveness, and compassion, by
displaying pride, revenge, and hardness of heart 7 Can you per-
Suade your hearers to govern their passions, by showing them that
you do not govern your own 7
The success of a minister consists in conforming the hearts and
lives of men to the character of Christ, and fitting them for the
heavenly inheritance. His usefulness is to be measured by the
380 M E E R N E S S AN ID G B N T L E N ESS NEC E S S A. R. Y
degree, in which he promotes the fruits of the Spirit. But if he
is destitute of those fruits, what reason is there to expect he
will promote them among his people : He may have a burning
zeal, and do much seemingly for the conversion of sinners. But
who will reward him for converting men from stupidity to animos-
ity ?—for rousing them from sleep to bite and devour 7. A min-
ister of a rough and violent spirit may build up his church; but
the members composing it will, in all probability, be stamped with
his likeness. Reposing confidence in their teacher, they will con.
consider not only his doctrines, but his disposition and manners, as
authorized by his religion. Thus the deformity of their charac-
ter will, in a measure, be attributable to the wrong spirit of their
minister.
I have now touched upon a very interesting point. To be
useful a minister must be exemplary. The example of one, who
possesses a right temper, is of mighty efficacy in forming the
minds of Christians. They look to him as a pattern, and receive
their particular cast of character from what they see in him. His
sweet and lovely spirit diffuses itself among the followers of Christ,
and promotes love, joy and peace. His example manifestly rises
above the best attainments of human nature, and in the view of
all beholders is a distinguished honor to divine grace.
Dut a minister has other duties to perform. IIe must visit
from house to house, and converse with his people in private. He
must seek access to them at all times, and administer counsel,
reproof, and consolation, as their circumstances require. In the
performance of all these duties, the disposition, which I have been
recommending, is unspeakably important. It will allure his peo-
ple to attend to his instructions. As he assumes no airs of
haughty Superiority; as he governs his own passions, and is always
patient and kind; they will freely disclose to him all their diffi-
culties, and with a candid, teachable temper, ask his counsel.
The gentleness of his disposition will render even his reproofs
acceptable. Who can take offence — whose heart is hard enough
not to be affected, when a minister of the gospel goes to him, and,
with meekness and tenderness, homestly tells him what he has
TO A C EIRISTIAN MINISTER, . 381
done amiss, and announces to him, not the resentment of a man,
but the displeasure of God?
A minister, adorned with a meek and quiet spirit, may be ex-
tensively useful in composing disagreements and preventing strife.
He is the man to heal wounds, to calm commotions, and extin-
guish fires. But what can one of an opposite temper do? Can
wounds be healed with his scourge 7 Will you send a fireband to
put out a flame 3
Dut I mean not to exalt meekness at the expense of other
virtues. In fact it is not at variance with them, and never would
have been thought so, had not the nature of the one or the other
been misunderstood. Meekness is not only compatible with other
virtues, but is their support and ornament. It is necessary even
to decision of character. Where meekness is wanting you may
find the stiffness of a bigot, and the Surliness of a cynic ; but the
decision of a Christian you cannot find. The Apostle Paul was
distinguished for meekness and gentleness. No man ever had
more pliability, than he who became all things to all men. His
passions were under such control, that no reproach or suffering
could ruffle them. And yet what man ever had more firmness 2.
In the Captain of our salvation, this combination of virtues was
perfect. Meekness and gentleness were diffused through all his
words and actions. And yet his firmness was immovable.
The same consistency appears between meekness and 2eal.
Meekness tempers the ardor of zeal, but never extinguishes it.
Nor does meekness in the least diminish the influence of zeal; but
by directing its operations, and preventing its irregularities, gives
it the highest possible efficacy. -
Meekness is a powerful aid to ministerial fidelity. Harshness
of temper throws a thousand obstacles in a minister’s way. It
involves him in difficulties. It exposes him to perpetual war, and
arms the very elements against him. From these difficulties a
minister is generally preserved by the spirit of meekness and
gentleness. This diminishes the number and hostility of his op-
posers. It clears his way of obtacles; and renders his duty
practicable and easy. No minister is so likely to preach the
382 MEE KN ESS AND GENT LEN ESS NE CESS ARY.
truths of revelation with persevering fidelity, as he who preaches
them in the spirit of love and meekness. This will make him bold
to declare all the counsel of God, and to reprove wickedness, when
violent men are compelled to silence.
The importance of Christian meekness appears in its happy
effects on a minister's situation and enjoyments. Although it is
sometimes considered a feeble, inactive virtue; it does really im-
part to a minister the highest degree of energy, and afford him
absolute security against his enemies. Let them be ever so mu-
merous, and their wrath ever So great ; the victory will be his.
But be it remembered, that his victory is not obtained either by
force or by terror. It is the victory of wisdom over folly, of sober
reason over passion, of religion over impiety. This honor belongs
to every minister, who follows the meek and lowly Jesus. By
governing his own spirit, by returning good for evil, and blessing
for cursing, by treating his opposers with moderation and kind-
mess, he discovers a greatness of mind, which often melts or
confounds them, and is always noticed with esteem by impartial
spectators. Besides this, he obtains a victory, which the world
seldom beholds, but which the wise man esteems above all others
— victory over himself. -
“His warfare is within. There unfatigued,
His fervent spirit labors. There he fights,
And there obtains fresh triumphs o'er himself,
And never withering wreathes.”
Meekness preserves a minister from the unhappiness of conten-
tion. Whatever others do, he will not strive. He will not par-
ticipate in the agitations of the world around him. While others
are suffering the wretchedness of envying and strife; he enjoys
the pleasure of a serene and peaceful mind. And he often enjoys
the additional pleasure of seeing Serenity and joy diffused among
those around him.
The value of such a temper it is impossible to describe. Tho
world is full of disorder; and no man is exposed to see more of
TO A C EIR IS TI A N MIN IS T E R . 383
it, or to be more affected by it, than a minister of the gospel. He
must have trials. How delightful soever his prospect at the be-
ginning, difficulty lies before him. The day may open with a
clear sky; but dark and stormy clouds will appear before might.
If a minister faithfully preaches the religion of Christ, and lives
accordingly, he must encounter opposition in one form or other.
But amidst all his troubles, he has peace within. Others are
agitated; but he is composed. Others may load him and his
doctrine with ignominy. But he is gentle and patient. No re-
sentful or envious thought corrodes his heart. The sweetness and
lenity of his disposition secure to him an inward Serenity, which
nothing can disturb.
Allow me to say further, that ministers have real and some-
times urgent occasion for the exercise of the spirit which I have
been recommending, in their connection and intercourse with each
other. Yes, brethren, you will have occasion to exercise this
Christ-like disposition towards your fellow-laborers in the sacred
office. They will be called to struggle with difficulties and bear
afflictions which will make an appeal to your compassion and sym-
pathy. Therefore “put on bowels of mercy.” They will need
substantial acts of friendship from you. Therefore “put on kind
ness.” They will have faults of character—faults, which may
interfere with your comfort, and may excite feelings of dislike—
feelings which, if allowed to lodge in your hearts, may lead on to
animosity and bitterness. If you would be sure to foreclose evils
so much to be dreaded, then put on meekness and forbearance
towards your brethren, whatever may be their faults. You will
certainly have occasion, more or less frequent, to exercise meek-
ness, gentleness and forbearance towards your fellow-laborers in
the work of the ministry. And on the other hand, your brethren
may discover some faults in you, which may make it necessary
for them to exercise the spirit of meekness and 'forbearance to-
wards you; and thus it will be as the Apostle directs, “forbear-
ing one another, and forgiving one another.”
Finally, consider the importance of the virtue enjoined in my
text, as it is necessary to assimilate ministers to the great Shep-
384 MEERN ESS AND GENT LENESS.
herd and Bishop of souls. He is your standard. Fix your eyes
then steadily upon your Lord and Master. — He was meek and
lowly in heart. The spirit of the dove pervaded his whole .
character and life, particularly the closing scene. He was abused,
insulted, reproached, and condemned. But the Lamb of God,
though possessed of power to crush his enemies in a moment, bore
it all with silent meekness! When they finished the work of
malice and cruelty, and nailed him to the cross; no emotion of
ill-will was excited in his breast; but with indescribable compas-
sion and tenderness he said, “Father, forgive them, for they
know not what they do.”
My dear brother, behold your pattern | See the lovely virtue,
which ought to beautify your character, and to pervade your
studies, your preaching, and your pastoral labors. Cherish this
excellent virtue. Grow in the meekness of wisdom; and make
all your trials and sufferings subservient to this end. Banish
forever that proud, irritable temper, which rises against a faithful
reprover; and always consider him your best friend, who most
plainly points out your failings. Complain not of injuries. –If
at any time your feelings are disturbed—look unto Jesus. You
can find no other perfect example. You can aim at no honor or
happiness so great, as to bear the likeness of him who was meek
and lowly in heart.
A S E R M 0 N
DELIVERED AT TIDE ORDINATION OF THE REW. JOEL HAWES, D. D., AT HARTFORD,
CONN., MARCH 4, 1818.
Hebrews 13: 17. — THEY WATCH FOR YOUR SOULS AS THEY THAT MUST GIVE
ACCOUNT.
A MINISTER of the gospel must give account to God, as well as
the people of his charge. He describes to them the transactions
which they must then witness, and in which they must bear a part.
But he should remember, that it will be a day of judgment to him,
as well as to them. He must stand before Christ, not to preach
the gospel, but to be judged by it; not to disclose to sinners, by
the light of divine truth, the secrets of their hearts, but to have
the secrets of his own heart disclosed;—not to tell his flock, that
Christ will come to divide them from one another, and place the
saints on his right hand and sinners on his left; but to take his
own place on one side or the other, according to his character.
The final account of a minister must be as strict and impartial,
as that of his people. No allowance will be made in his favor,
because he was solemnly ordained to be a Christian pastor, or
because he went through the common labors and trials of the
ministry. Nor will any favor be shown him, because he occupied an
important station in the church; — nor because he preached the
truth; — nor because he was held in high estimation for his talents
WOL. W. 33
386 A MINISTER’s FINAL AC COUNT.
and piety. Nor will any allowance be made in his favor, because
he encountered difficulties and sufferings; —nor even because his
labors were successful, and many blessed him as their spiritual
father. He must be tried by the same unbending rule of right-
eousness with others. He must give account of all his conduct,
and of the hidden things of the heart ; particularly of the motives,
which led him to assume the sacred office, and of the spirit which
actuated his studies, his visits, and all his ministrations. If he
has been a faithful shepherd, he will receive an unfading inheri-
tance. The review of his pious labors and sufferings on earth will
fill him with emotions of unspeakable delight; and the souls con-
verted or edified under his ministry, will be his joy and his crown.
But if he has neglected the duties of his calling; what can he
expect but the frown of his Judge 2 No entreaties for mercy can
then prevail. He must see at an appalling distance, those blessed
mansions which were once within his reach, and which he per-
suaded others to secure.
This brief description of the final account which a minister of
the gospel must give of himself at the last day, will help us to
see what practical influence the expectation of that account ought
to have upon him. This influence may be considered in relation
to a minister's object, his qualifications, his duties, his failings,
and his trials. -
First. The practical influence, which I am to illustrate, re-
spects a minister’s object, or the end at which he ought to aim.
He looks forward to the time when earthly pursuits will cease,
and earthly interests disappear, and when the Lord from heaven
will sit upon his throne to judge the world. What will the minis-
ter then consider to have been the most important object of his
calling? Will he not see that nothing ever deserved a thought
compared with the conversion of sinners, and the edification and
enlargement of the church 7 Will he not then see, that turning
aside from this great object to pursue wealth, or science, or per-
sonal promotion, was an abandonment of his sacred work? When
a minister fixes his eyes upon the day of account, he must feel,
that there is nothing else for him to pursue as the end of his holy
A MINISTER’s FINAL A C C 0 UNT. 387
office, but the glory of Christ and the advancement of his king-
dom. Other things become insignificant. If he does but little
for the salvation of men, he does but little of his proper business.
Let him do anything that is foreign to his calling; — it is all a
bubble. Those acquisitions, cares, labors, which do nothing to-
ward saving immortal Souls, will at last appear as the chaff of the
summer threshing floor. Thus if a minister habitually looks for-
ward to the day of account; the views which he knows he must
then have, will obtain a present influence over him ; will withdraw
him from everything inconsistent with his proper work, and keep
him engaged, with steady, ardent zeal, to promote the reign of
Christ, as the great end of his ministry.
Secondly. This practical influence respects a minister's quali-
fications. If he judges rightly as to the proper object of the
ministry, he will perceive that it calls for high qualifications; —
qualifications far above what he possesses. Whatever advantages
of education he may have enjoyed, and whatever length of time
he may have spent in preparing for the ministry; he will fall
down in the dust, when he compares his attainments, either moral
or literary, with the high mark at which his office requires him to
aim. His previous contemplation and study seem to have done
little more, than to fix his eye upon the magnitude of the work
before him, and show him how much remains to be done in obtain-
ing the requisite qualifications. Now a proper recollection of
his accountableness to God will prompt him to unwearied endeav-
ors to obtain these qualifications; — qualifications which may be
held in low estimation by the worldly mind, but are of great price
in the sight of God. These qualifications he will pursue with
constant assiduity. Let no idle intruder interrupt him. Let
no worldly anxieties disturb him. He is studying for the judg-
ment day. He is making improvements for eternity.
Thirdly. The subject is to be considered in relation to a min-
ister’s duties. These duties are so numerous and difficult, that,
from conscious insufficiency, he is sometimes disposed to shrink
back from them. And sometimes while attempting them, he is
ready to be disheartened. It requires a motive of no common
388 A MINISTER’s FINAL ACC0 UNT.
efficacy to carry him forward in the face of so many difficulties
and discouragements, to the execution of his arduous work. One
of the most powerful motives is that which we are now considering.
The certain expectation of a day of reckoning, and of the endless
retributions then to commence, cannot fail to elevate a pious min-
ister above discouragement, and to inspire him with animation
and perseverance equal, in Some good measure, to the obligations
of his office. Such an expectation adds new strength to the
inward spring of holy action. Love to God rises to higher fer-
vency, when in the anticipated light of the last day, his glorious
perfections appear with new splendor. Love to souls becomes
more tender and active, when a minister considers how their sal-
vation will appear before the bar of Christ. Take into view any
of the momentous duties, which devolve upon an ambassador of
Christ, and see how powerful an influence the expectation of giv-
ing account to God will exert upon him.—I am now, he says, to
preach the everlasting gospel; and shortly am to stand before
Christ, and give account of my preaching. I am going from the
pulpit to the judgment seat. Shall I not then faithfully deliver
the message of Him whose I am, and to whom I must give ac-
count Shall I not strive for the salvation of those who are put
under my care, and whom I am to meet before the tribunal of
justice 7 Shall I who am soon to stand before my Lord, spend
that time for my own ends, which he commands me to spend in
feeding his sheep and his lambs 7
It not unfrequently happens, that ministers, who commence
their public labors with a good measure of active zeal, by and by
grow remiss. The business of their office loses its novelty. Avo-
cations multiply. Domestic cares and bodily infirmities increase.
Want of success disheartens them. Perhaps opposition or neg-
lect produces alienation in their feelings. They are in danger of
growing indifferent in their work—of neglecting what they can
neglect, and doing what they do from an unwelcome necessity.
But the habitual expectation of the final account is eminently
fitted to guard a minister against these great evils. What if the
business of his office does lose its novelty 7 Is it therefore less
A MINISTER’S FINAL ACCOUNT. 380
momentous 2 Are the Souls for whom he is watching, less pre-
cious 7 And does the account he must give of his ministry, lose its
importance, because it draws near 7 Why talk of novelty, when
he is doing the work of Him, who is the same yesterday, to-day,
and forever ? What if domestic cares and burdens increase, and
avocations multiply 7 Can these be mentioned before his Judge,
as an exemption from the proper duties of his calling 2 If he
keeps his final account in view, he will suffer no cares, or burdens
or avocations to withdraw him from his great concern. Do bodily
infirmities begin to invade him : This will remind him that his
time is short, and the day of the Lord at hand, and so will be a
new motive to all proper exertions to finish his work. And what
if his labors are apparently unsuccessful, and instead of behold-
ing sinners turning to God, he sees nothing but obstimacy in sin 7
What is all this to a minister who looks for the coming of his
Lord, and expects to hear that voice which wakes the dead 7 He
knows that he is not to give account of the degree of his success,
but of the fidelity of his labors. These views animate him to
persevering diligence; and lead him to consider even the increas-
ing guilt and wretchedness, of sinners, as a motive to still greater
zeal for their conversion.
Time would fail me to recount the improprieties in the manner
of inculcating the truths of Christianity, which have arisen from
unsuitable feelings in the minds of preachers. Sometimes from
vanity or inconsideration, they hold forth their own conjectures
and dreams. Sometimes the troublesome objections urged against
them, and the warmth of zeal they exercise in contending for the
truth, result in irritation and bitterness. And these show them-
Selves in language, looks, and tones of voice, that will cut and
chastise opposers. Better preach nothing, than preach even the
truth in such a manner as this. Prejudices are multiplied. Even
Christians catch the unhallowed spirit of their teacher, and lose
much of the beauty of their character. And Christianity itself
is adulterated and disgraced, by being conveyed through the
channel of passion.
O what a difference there is, both in manner and effect, between
33*
390 A MINISTER’s FINAL AC COUNT.
the preaching of one who forgets the future judgment and is gov-
erned by the corrupt passions of human nature, and of one who
habitually and feelingly recollects that he must give account
Pourthly. Every minister of the gospel is exposed, in one way
or another, to faults of character, — to pride and vanity, to am-
bition and envy, to jealousy and evil speaking, to love of wealth
and love of indulgence, or to trifling and levity. Now if minis-
ters were, at all times, and in all companies, duly mindful that the
day of the Lord is at hand, and that they must give account for
all their conduct, they would watchfully guard against whatever
would detract from the beauty of their character and expose them
to the disapprobation of their final Judge. The seriousness and
awe of such a sentiment would keep them at the greatest distance
from all sinful affections and pursuits, and lead them to say, with
the Apostle, “What manner of persons ought we to be in all holy
conversation and godliness?”
Fifthly. The subject has a relation to a minister's trials.
Trials and sufferings make a part of his office. At the com-
mencement of his work, he may see before him an enlightened,
generous, united people, – and a church of active, faithful Chris-
tians. He may be surrounded by affectionate fathers and breth-
ren in the ministry. He may behold, in every direction, a bright
prospect of usefulness and comfort, and may have a glow of health
and spirits, that makes brightness still more bright. But let him
not be dazzled by the splendor which encompasses him. Let him
wait a little, and wait in prayer. For a day of trial will come.
If he preaches faithfully, and lives faithfully, some who have the
form of godliness, may find themselves too heavily reproved, and
begin to speak out their complaints against their reprover. Some
may forsake his ministry. He may see that the followers of
Christ do not grow in grace, but are immersed in business, or dis-
tracted by some unhappy strife, and so are turned off from their
benevolent exertions to extend the reign of Christ. The order
and discipline of the church may be neglected, and fatal errors
creep in. Parents may be unmindful of their duty ; while chil-
dren and youth, the hope of the church, forget their Creator, are
A MINISTER’s FINAL ACC0 UNT. 391
weary of the Sabbath, and give themselves to vice and folly. In
his high and holy calling he may labor from year to year, and yet
see those, for whom he watches and prays, neglecting the great
salvation. He may cry to Him, with whom is the residue of the
Spirit, while no Spirit comes down, no rain or dew descends. And
his own soul may feel the horrors of a spiritual drought.
Or if the mercy of God should preserve a minister from these
afflictions, he may have to encounter others. His heart may be
grieved to find the want of union and coöperation among those
who sustain the sacred office, and to see, in consequence, how
little can be dome to check the career of iniquity and error, and
promote the cause of learning and religion. Or he may have
domestic affliction. It may be his sorrowful lot to see a pious
partner expire, and find himself a Solitary mourner ; or to see
children grow up in disobedience, or die in sin. Distressing pain,
or lingering sickness may befall him. And he may begin to find
that the vigor of his health and spirits is breaking, and the end of
his usefulness drawing migh.
Now whatever trials may be allotted to a faithful minister, it will
be of great use to him, to look forward to the day of account. It
will afford him no slender support, to fix his thoughts upon a time,
when all his sorrows will be ended, and when he will know by
experience what is that exceeding great and eternal weight of
glory, which his trials have been working out for him. With such
an expectation, he will regard every affliction as light and tran-
sient. Devout anticipation of the last day, and of its glorious
transactions, will strengthen his heart and prompt him to diligence
in duty, and diligence in duty is one of the best supports and
comforts for a day of adversity. It keeps him near the God of
all grace and comfort, and gives peace which the World cannot
give.
Let me add, that the contemplation of a day of such Solemn
import, and of business so incomparably interesting to every
immortal soul, and so immediately connected with an eternity of
bliss or wo, must take such hold on the heart of a minister, as in a
great measure to contrayene the unhappy effects of adversity;
392 A MINISTER’s FINAL AC COUNT.
must impress on him the character of fortitude not to be subdued,
and of tranquillity not to be ruffled; must preserve him from
impatience and fainting in the day of trouble, and open to him
sources of comfort forever inaccessible to the worldly mind.
MY DEAR BROTHER,
I have confidence in you, that through the grace of Christ, you
will watch for souls as one who must give account. The day
of judgment is to be solemnly remembered. Better be anything
than a minister, if you forget it. The remembrance is to have an
influence upon all parts of your life ; upon your studies, your
secret devotion, your public ministrations, and your pastoral visits.
In cases of doubt and difficulty, lift up your eyes to your Lord and
Saviour, just ready to come to judgment, and ask yourself, what
will appear best, when reviewed before his tribunal; and how you
shall dispose of your difficulties, and regulate your conduct, so
that you may be prepared to give up your account.
I hope, that neither youth, nor health, nor the affection of this
beloved society, nor any of the pleasing circumstances of your
situation, will lead you to view the day of account as far distant.
It will be present ; and you will ere long look upon it as past.
Your venerable predecessor could tell you, how short was the
interval between the beginning and the end of his ministry. He
had his day of ordination. He preached the unsearchable riches
of Christ, counselled sinners, comforted believers, visited the sick
and dying, endured affliction, and finished his work. You are
commencing the same course, and in all probability, the days of
your ministry will as Seon be ended. The Lord grant that the peri-
od of your ministry may be long. But the longest is short. You
will soon stand, with your fathers and brethren, before the Judge
of the world, to give account of your stewardship. The event is
so certain and so near, that I seem to see it already come. I see
you looking up with a countenance full of joy, to behold your glo-
rious Redeemer on the throne of judgment. You turn your
thoughts back upon the scenes of your mortal state — your child-
hood and youth—the season of your education—the years you
A MINISTER’s FINAL A C C 0 UNT. 393
spent in our beloved Seminary — the day of your induction into
the holy ministry — the truths inculcated and the prayers offered
up on that solemn occasion. In the clear light of this day of
glory, you look back upon your ministry. Say now, did you feel
too seriously the magnitude of the sacred office 2 Did you devote
yourself too exclusively to the great end of your ministry : Did
you love the children of God with too much tenderness; or labor,
with excessive solicitude, for the salvation of sinners ? Did the
cause of Christ lie too near your heart 7 Or did you keep your
eye upon it too steadily 7 Did you preach too affectionately, or
too faithfully 7 Did you pray with too much fervor 7 Did you
make it a subject of too deep concern, how you should live, and
how you should die : Did you think too much of this day of
account : Has it not arrived as Soon, and is not its importance as
great, as you expected 7 And did you ever set too high a price
upon the approbation of your Saviour and Judge, – or upon this
redeemed, spotless church, now presented before the presence of
his glory with exceeding joy 7
BRETHREN AND FRIENDS OF THIS SOCIETY,
You too are going to judgment. The time is as important, and
as near to you, as to your minister. And it is as important both
to him and to you, as though it were now present. When you
witness its transactions, and bear a part in them, etermal happiness
will be as dear to you, and endless misery as dreadful, as they
would be, if you were now listening to the last sentence of your
Judge. Regard them, the day of God, so long desired by the
saints and so dreadful to sinners, as a present reality — as actually
come ; and looking back from this scene of ineffable Solemnity,
say — did your ministers ever paint in too strong colors the evil
of sin, the vanity of the world, or the dreadfulness of endless
punishment 2 Did they ever urge you too earnestly to repent,
and prepare to meet your God 7 Did you offer up too many
prayers for your minister, or for the church 7 Did you strive too
earnestly to enter in at the strait gate Do you regret it now,
that you forsook all for Christ, or did so much for his cause 7
394 A MINISTER’s FINAL AC COUNT.
Where now, Oh ye children of God, where now are those worldly
attachments and cares which hindered your growth in grace, and
kept you poor, when all the riches of Christ were before you?
Where, now, Oh sinners, are those days of mercy you once
enjoyed 7 And where are those shadows of time, for which you
turned away from the Saviour, and despised the joys of his king-
dom?
A S E R M 0 N
DELIVERED IN THE SECOND BAPTIST CHURCH IN BOSTON, OCT. 28, 1821, AT THE
ORDINATION OF REV. ALWA WOODS, D. D.
1 Cor., PARTS OF CHAP. XII. — Now there are diversities of gifts, but the same
Spirit. — And there are diversities of operations, but it is the same God who
worketh all in all. But the manifestation of the Spirit is given to every man to
profit withal. For to one man is given by the Spirit the word of wisdom;-
to another, the working of miracles; to another, prophecy.—But all these work-
oth that one and the self-same Spirit, dividing to every man severally as he will.
For as the body is one, and hath many members, and all the members of that
one body, being many, are one body; so also is Christ. For by one Spirit are
we all baptized into one body. — For the body is not one member, but many.
If the foot shall say, Because I am not the hand, I am not of the body; is
it therefore not of the body ? And if the car shall say, Because I am not the
eye, I am not of the body; is it therefore not of the body ? — And the eye can-
not say to the hand, I have no need of thee; nor again the head to the feet I
have no need of you. Nay, much more those members of the body, which seem
to be more feeble, are necessary. — And whether one member suffer, all the
members suffer with it; or one member be honored, all the members rejoice
with it. Now ye are the body of Christ, and members in particular.
WHEREVER the author of this Epistle went, he found nothing
so active in withstanding the influence of the Christian religion, or
in marring its divine form, as the selfishness of the heart. Even
those who professed to love God supremely, and their neighbors as
themselves, showed frequently, that they were still chargeable
with the spirit of pride and emulation, and needed the purifying
£96 MIN IS T E R S G U A R D ED
influence of divine truth. This was particularly the case with the
church in Corinth. Those very endowments, which Christ had
imparted to the Corinthian believers for the confirmation of his
gospel, were made an occasion of strife. In the text, the Apostle
labored to remove the evils which existed among them, and to
inculcate the virtues and duties which they were prone to neglect.
He informed them that the diversified endowments of Christians,
particularly of the ministers of religion, were all distributed by
the Spirit of God, and were intended, not for the gratification of
self-love, but for the Welfare of the church. This he illustrated
by the similitude of the human body, all the parts of which stand
in an intimate relation to one another, and are necessary to the
beauty, strength, and the perfection of the whole body. He
showed that no Christian, especially that no public teacher should
glory in his own qualifications or endowments, but should use them
for the perfecting of the Saints, for the edifying of the body of
Christ.
Applying this interesting portion of Scripture to our own case,
let us, brethren, distinctly consider the errors against which we are
here guarded, and the duties here inculcated.
First. We are here guarded against Supposing that no differ-
ence exists and that no distinction is to be made among the mem-
bers of Christ’s church. There are some who think that all
Christians are on the same level; that all have the same right to
preach the gospel, to be guides and teachers in the church, and
to administer Christian ordinances. Now from whatever source
this opinion is derived, or whatever may be the form it assumes, it
is entirely contrary to the word of God. Both the Old Testament
and the New make a distinction among men in regard to office,
and describe the different places to be occupied, and the different
duties to be discharged, by the members of God’s spiritual king-
dom. The text in particular guards us against every approach to
the error above mentioned, by referring us to the human body, the
members of which occupy different places and perform different
functions, Some higher and Some lower, though all are essential to
the perfection of the body.
A G. A. IN S T P R II) E A N D E N W Y. 397
The opinion that all Christians ought to hold the same rank, is
contrary to the plan of God's works. In what part of the world
can you find anything favorable to such an opinion ? There is no
mation or society, in which all are or could be upon a level, either
as to office or influence. Where in the whole creation can you
discover anything like a system of perfect equality ? Even those
who fill the office of the ministry, are not in all respects upon a
level. I reject the idea of distinct orders among the ministers of
Christ. Still we cannot but perceive that, within the compass of
that one office, there are different stations to be held, and different
duties to be performed, and that the variety of qualifications which
ministers possess, exactly fit them for those different stations and
duties. The Apostle, with his eye directly upon the public teach-
ers of religion, repeatedly asserts that there are different qualifica-
tions and duties, and labors to show in what light those differences
are to be regarded. “God hath set some in the church, first,
apostles; secondarily, prophets; thirdly, teachers; after that,
miracles,” etc.—“dividing to every man severally as he will.”
And it is a fact, that whatever men's speculative opinions
may be on this subject, they act agreeably to the views of
the Apostle. His views are perfectly consonant to the circum-
stances of human beings, and to the whole Scheme of God’s
works. In the concerns of religion, as well as in the concerns
of civil society, there are places of extraordinary importance
to be occupied ; works of uncommon magnitude and difficulty to
be accomplished. Who shall be designated for those places :
Who shall be called to accomplish those works : Are all qualified
alike 2 No. We always inquire, who possess the talents and traits of
character, best suited to the particular offices to be filled. When
we find this suitableness, we are satisfied, and act accordingly.
A man who should act on any other principle, would be essen-
tially wanting in Christian prudence, and would show that, how-
ever honest his heart may be, he is not fit to be trusted with the
interests of religion.
Secondly. We are here guarded against the error of sup-
posing, that God furnishes us with any talents, whether ordinary
WOL. V. 34
398 M IN IS T E R S G. U A R D ED
or extraordinary, merely for our own sake. It is a vain conceit,
for any man to think, that the favors which God bestows upon
him, are expressions of regard to him personally, and are in-
tended for his own reputation or interest. The Apostle teaches
us, that no man is made for himself; that God designs all our
powers and acquisitions, for the good of the church; that the
public teachers of religion, with their diverse endowments, are
parts of Christ's spiritual body; just as the eyes, hands and feet
are parts of the natural body, and are designed to be subservient
to its security and happiness. A man's eyes are not endued
with the power of vision for their own sake, but that they may
be of use to the body. Nor are his feet endued with their pe-
culiar powers for their own sake, but for the sake of sustaining
and moving the body. So of all the members. A minister of
the gospel, who has the views and feelings inculcated by the
text, will say within himself; these intellectual and moral facul-
ties, these acquisitions, this power of communicating instruction,
this influence in Society, these opportunities for useful action,
were not given me for my own sake. God bestowed them as the
Father of the creation, for the welfare of the whole. Let my
object be correspondent with his. And let me never be guilty
of devoting his gifts to any other purpose, than that for which
he designed them. - -
Thirdly. The text guards us against ambition. The principle
here inculcated is, that God divides to his ministers severally
such talents and qualifications, as will fit them for the place for
which he designs them ; and will most effectually promote the
good of the church. But ambition strives for self-promotion.
It cannot be satisfied with usefulness. It cannot be satisfied
with the will of God. It aspires after a distinguished name, or
a distinguished office. This passion sometimes prompts a minister
of the gospel to aim at a place above that for which God de-
signed him. The foot aspires to be the head. A minister of
the gospel, laboring in a retired situation, desires to preach to a
larger or more cultivated congregation, to live in a more fash-
ionable style, and enjoy the pleasures of a more refined society.
A G. A. IN ST PR II) E A N D E N V Y. 399
Such are the aspirings of his ambitious heart. But God may
have already assigned him his proper place. In his retired,
peaceful situation, he might feed the sheep and lambs of Christ's
flock. His days might pass pleasantly away, filled up with the
labors of love. He might enjoy the gratitude and confidence of
those to whom he ministers, and witness among them the fruits
of the Spirit. But his ambition seeks a higher place. Suppose
he obtains a higher place ; — and suppose that place proves to
be above his qualifications. How deplorable the consequence
IIe must experience the unhappiness of one, who has been im-
pelled by the pride of his heart, to act against the plan of divine
wisdom. His ambition has totally defeated itself; for his best
efforts now secure him far less respect than he had before. His
whole character has been depreciated, in proportion as he has
risen above his place.
But suppose that a man, who holds the Sacred office in a re-
tired station, seriously thinks himself fitted for a more important
post, and that the judgment of his most judicious friends coin-
cides with his ; he ought still to guard against resorting to any
measures inconsistent with uprightness, with modesty, or with
Christian contentment. In regard to such a subject, there are
several considerations, which ought to be made familiar to the
mind of a Christian minister. The first is, that, through the
influence of self-love, he is liable to mistake respecting his own
qualifications, and that others are liable to mistake on the same
subject, through the influence of a prepossession in his favor.
God may see that his present situation is better suited to his
talents, and more favorable to his usefulness and comfort, than
any other. He should consider too that the situation which he
contemplates, may contain trials, difficulties and sufferings, which
he has not the firmness to encounter, and which, should he be
actually exposed to them, would make him sigh after that place
of retired labor, which he had been so ready to leave. And
even if he is really qualified for a higher place, this may not be
the proper time for his removal. It may be the purpose of
God, in due time, to introduce him to a station of greater im,
400 MIN IS T E R S G U A R D ED
portance and better suited to his talents, than the one which he
now has in view. Let him then remain quietly in the place
which divine providence has assigned him, remembering that it
is a higher honor than any man deserves, to be permitted to
preach the gospel anywhere; and remembering too, that if God
would have him remove to another sphere of action, he will sea-
sonably indicate his pleasure.
But there is still another view of this subject. A man may
aspire to a place for which he is well qualified, and to which, ac-
cording to the arrangements of divine providence, he is soon to
be introduced — he may aspire to that place for the gratification
of his vanity. It is admitted to be a station of distinguished
usefulness. But he fixes his eye not upon its usefulness, but its
honor. Even if he resolves on the highest degree of usefulness,
it is still for his own credit. It is not the glory of Christ, but
his own glory that excites his zeal. In all that he does to pre-
pare himself for an elevated place in the church, and in all his
efforts to discharge its duties, he has an ultimate reference to
himself. Now a minister of the gospel, who is actuated by such
a motive, may conceal his baseness from man. But, in the eye
of God, he is altogether selfish and vile, an enemy to the cross of
Christ. And he is preéminently guilty, because he mixes his
ambitious, selfish designs with the duties of a sacred and holy
calling. -
Fourthly. The Apostle here guards us against every degree
of envy towards those who are above us. Envy is a mixture of
pride, meanness, and malignity. It is a covert warfare against
the wisdom of God, and misery itself to the breast where it
dwells. I am ashamed to think, that this vile passion ever shows
itself in ministers of the gospel. What reason, brethren, can we
have to envy those, who in respect of talents, place, or reputa-
tion, are superior to us? Suppose we should become superior to
them; would it be right for them to envy us? — Are there not
places of various degrees of importance to be occupied ? And is
it not a proof of the wisdom and goodness of God to raise up
men, who shall be qualified for those different places 7 And will
A G. A. IN ST PR II) E A N D EN W Y. 401
you set yourself against the wisdom and goodness of God But
aside from this—what cause can we have to envy those above
us? Are not men, who are called to fill stations of uncommon
importance, exposed to great difficulties, hardships and sufferings?
In truth, it requires benevolence, resolution, and self-denial, for
men, well acquainted with the subject, to be willing to occupy
such stations. Those, who have passed from more retired places
to those which are more public and important, are often ready to
sink under the burdens which oppress them, and often sigh after
the peaceful labors and pleasures they have left.
. But there is another fault, nearly connected with this, namely,
a spirit of repining and discontent, because we are not distin-
guished. Let us never forget the severe recompense which was
awarded to the indolent and repining servant, who had but one
talent. That the welfare of the church may be promoted, God
has seen fit to prepare men for the different places which are to
be occupied, and the different works which are to be accomplished.
No one has any right to Say, that his talents and services are
of no consequence to the church. “If the foot shall say, be-
cause I am not the hand, I am not of the body; is it there-
fore not of the body ? And if the ear shall say, because I am
not the eye, I am not of the body; is it therefore not of the
body ? If the whole body were an eye, where were the hearing 7
If the whole were hearing, where were the smelling? But now
hath God set the members every one of them in the body, as it
hath pleased him. And if they were all one member, where
were the body ?”. Some men seem to lose all motive to exer-
tion, when they find that they must act in a subordinate place.
But in reality, those who possess ordinary talents, and are des-
timed to ordinary duties in the ministry, are in some respects
more necessary to the prosperity of the church, than those of
distinguished talents. The good which is to be done by them is
greater in the amount, and requires a larger number to accom.
plish it. To convert sinners and edify the church is the grand
object of the ministry. By whose labors is this object to be
chiefly promoted 7 Not by the labors of the few, but of the
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402 MIN IS TIE R S G. U A R D ED
many. Those ministers, then, who are called to discharge the
ordinary duties of the Sacred office, are not to indulge a spirit of
repining and discontent, as though their situation was degraded,
or their employment of little value. It is far otherwise. Their
employment is the same as that which engaged the attention of
the apostles. It is the same as that which chiefly engaged the
attention of the Lord Jesus himself, during his public ministry.
Indeed, the employment of any one, who is called to preach the
everlasting gospel, is important and honorable in a degree not
to be measured. And ministers, however obscure their situation,
who faithfully preach the gospel, do a great work, and will re-
ceive great honor at the coming of their Lord. Instead there-
fore of repining, it becomes them to bless God for his mercy in
putting them into the ministry, and suffering them, in any cir-
cumstances, to labor in such a heavenly work; and instead of
yielding to discouragement, to rouse to action all the powers they
possess, and do as much as possible for the Salvation of men. Let
us watchfully guard our minds against the habit of making such
comparisons of ourselves with others, as will lead to repining or
discontent. Let us fix our thoughts upon the magnitude of the
work which God has assigned to us, the vast importance of doing
it faithfully, and the happiness of being approved of our Judge.
And let us bear in mind how worthless all distinctions among us
will appear at the last day, except that between the faithful and
the unfaithful. -
Fifthly. Ministers who are placed in high stations, are here
guarded against Self-complacency and contempt of others. “The
eye cannot say to the hand, I have no need of thee; nor again
the head to the feet, I have no need of you. Nay, much more
those members of the body, which seem to be more feeble, are
necessary.” One who holds a superior place in the church, is
as much dependent on others, as they upon him. The eye needs
the hand, as much as the hand the eye. And in a perfect body,
even the feebler members are necessary as well as the stronger.
Why should you despise any ministers of the gospel, because
their situation is less conspicuous than yours? The Lord Jesus
A G A IN ST PR II) E A N D E N W Y . 403
has given them their talents, and allotted to them their situation
and employment. Will you despise the benevolent appointment
of Christ 2 — despise those whom Christ has chosen to the work
of converting sinners, and training up his people for heaven 7–
those whose labors are as essential as your own, to the great
object of redeeming love 7
IFurther. If those who occupy subordinate stations, had been
placed in your condition, their reputation and usefulness might
have risen much higher than yours; and you, if placed in their
condition, might have appeared to much less advantage than
they. To despise them, therefore, may be to despise those, who
possess an excellence of character, both intellectual and moral,
superior to your own.
Let me also warn any of my brethren, against making an
elevated office an occasion of self-complacency. Remember that
your being in such an office is no eyidence of the divine com .
placency. God often raises men up to exalted places, in whom
his all-searching eye sees no real goodness. They may possess
certain qualifications, which he can make subservient to the pur-
poses of his providence. And with a view to this subserviency,
he may place them in an office of distinguished importance, and
lead them to perform the work allotted to them, in a useful and
acceptable manner; although he knows that a day is at hand,
when they will be numbered with hypocrites and unbelievers.
This is a subject of tremendous import, and so far from leaving
any room for self-complacency, it should fill us all with fear and
trembling.
Consider further, that God may sometimes put men of incon-
siderable talents in high stations, for the very purpose of expos-
ing their folly in aspiring to distinction, and of warning others to
be content with their place. And what is still more dreadful,
he may sometimes punish the secret wickedness of men, by
placing them in those exalted stations, where their wickedness will
be disclosed, and so will involve them in merited disgrace and ruin.
While they are in a lower station, some corrupt and odious pas-
sion may be indulged in their hearts, though covered from the
404 MIN IS TIER. S. G. U A R D ED
world ; and they may be acquiring a reputation and influence
which they deserve not, and which would be hazardous to the
interests of religion. In righteous judgment, God may raise them
to a higher place, where the restraints, which they formerly
felt, will be removed, and where the particular passion, which
they before kept from the public eye, will acquire strength, and
act itself out. But the moment it does this, their character
is stigmatized, and they sink into ignominy and wretchedness.
IFor those who occupy high stations, to indulge feelings of self-
complacency, is directly contrary to the dictates of piety. If
you indulge such feelings, you do as much as to ascribe your ex-
altation to your own efforts or your own worthiness, like that im-
pious king who walked in his palace, and with pride and self-
exaltation, said: “Is not this great Babylon which I have built
—by the might of my power, and for the glory of my majesty?”
You remember how quickly God showed his abhorrence of such
impiety. “While the word was in the king's mouth, there fell
a voice from heaven, saying, O king Nebuchadnezzar, to thee it
is spoken ; the kingdom is departed from thee.” If any of you,
brethren, are placed in important stations, forget not to ascribe
it to divine providence. It is God who raised you up; and his
hand is to be devoutly acknowledged. Every circumstance of
your life has been ordered by his wisdom. Let the praise of all
your talents, your acquisitions, and your usefulness be attributed
to him. And instead of taking any credit to yourselves on account
of your station, remember how far you have failed of accom-
plishing the duties, to which your office binds you.
Such, brethren, are the errors of the understanding and the
heart, to which the ministers of Christ are liable, and from which
the passage before us is suited to guard them. Consider now
briefly the peculiar duties which it enjoins. ...&
The great duty suggested by the text, is mutual love. This
is a duty of high importance among Christians in general. But
there are special reasons why mutual love should be cherished
by ministers of the gospel. They not only love the same Lord,
and look for the same inheritance, but are engaged in the same
A G Al N S T P R.ID E A N D E N W Y . 405
employment, and are devoted to the same Sacred cause ; circum-
stances, which tend to produce the sincerest affection. Their
work is so arduous, and so many are the difficulties they must
encounter, that they greatly need each other's friendship. Let
ministers, then, love one another with pure hearts fervently. The
friendship, which binds them together should be deep and ten-
der. It should exclude all strife, and all suspicion. It should
have strength to endure trials, and to last as long as life lasts.
It should burn with a flame so pure and steady, that death
itself cannot extinguish it. It should be so holy in its nature
and tendency, that those who are under its influence, will seize
every opportunity for uniting in Christian , conversation, and
bending the knee together before the throne of grace.
This love would lead ministers to rejoice in each other’s use-
fulness and honor. “If one member of the body be honored,
all the members rejoice with it.” If we sincerely love the
church, that reputation or usefulness of our brother which
promotes its welfare, will certainly give us satisfaction. Sup-
pose that, in all valuable qualifications, he is our superior.
It is just so much the better for the church. Why is it not as
well for a brother of yours to do good, as to do it yourself? And
if so, why is it not as well for him to possess those superior tal-
ents which qualify him to do good, as for you to possess them :
And why should you not feel as real a satisfaction in his superior
qualifications and usefulness, as you would in your own 7 Are
they less valuable because they are his, and not yours ? God
does not regard them so. And why should you ? I say, breth-
ren, we ought not only to look without dissatisfaction on the Supe-
rior talents and usefulness of others, but heartily to rejoice in
them, and to bless God for them. And this we certainly shall do,
if we love our brethren as ourselves, or if we feel a real attach-
ment to the common cause. Let us banish forever that Wretched,
infernal temper, which is dissatisfied at the superiority of others.
It is a temper which would fill the whole moral creation with
misery; because all moral creatures must forever see one, who is
infinitely above them, and who will receive glory which they can
406 M IN IS T E R S G U A R D ED
never attain. If we rejoice in the infinite excellence and glory
of God, we shall rejoice most in that, which has the greatest
resemblance to him. And surely those most resemble God, who
rise the highest in intellectual and moral excellence, and do the
most good. That very superiority of talents, reputation and use-
fulness which occasions uneasiness to the envious heart, occasions
joy to the benevolent. Let us bless God for all the instances in
which he gives eminent qualifications to his servants. And let us
labor and pray, that the next generation of ministers may rise to
far higher degrees of learning, piety, and usefulness, than any of
us have attained. The Lord endue them with such intellectual
and moral excellence, as will, in future ages, cast a shade over
the brightest traits of our character. The Lord bring forward a
time when common Christians shall rank as high, as the most dis-
tinguished ministers of the present day, and ministers as high as
apostles; and when the best of the present generation shall be
spoken of, as we are accustomed to speak of children in compari-
son with men. v.
Cordial sympathy with our brethren is another duty which the
Apostle happily illustrates in the text. “If one member suffer,
all the members suffer with it.” Ministers, in common with
others, must have various personal and domestic afflictions. In all
these afflictions, our brethren need our sympathy, and we theirs.
Ministers have various weaknesses and defects, both natural and
moral, which occasion them many a painful struggle, many an hour
of sadness and discouragement. Nothing on earth can afford
them so much comfort and assistance, as the sympathy of their
brethren. This sympathy should be free and spontaneous, like
that which all parts of the body have for any member which
is wounded, or suffers pain. It should be sincere and active.
The hand is instantly extended to afford needed relief to any other
part of the body, or to alleviate its sufferings. Fit emblem of what
ought to exist in the church, and in the ministry. Our hearts
should instantly be touched with the afflictions of a brother. We
should hasten to his relief. And if we can do nothing more, we
should give him the pleasure of seeing that we wish to relieve
A G. A. IN S T P R II) E, A N D E N V Y. 40'ſ
him. To an afflicted minister, such prompt and tender sympathy
from his brethen is one of the most precious consolations. And
when this sympathy cannot be explºssed by personal attention, it
should be done by fraternal correspondence. This mode of assist-
ing and comforting our brethren is of much higher consequence than
we are apt to think, whether they are suffering private afflictions,
or contending with difficulties which result from their public
station.
There is one duty suggested by the Apostle, which is not unfre-
quently overlooked; I mean the duty of conferring some special
marks of kindness upon those whose talents and situations are
less distinguished. To inculcate this duty, the Apostle, with the
most delicate sensibility, reminds us, that we sometimes pay
special attention to those members of the body which are wanting
in gracefulness or strength; — so far are the more distinguished
parts of the body from appropriating the whole of our regard. In
like manner, we should sometimes give special attention to those
of our brethren, who are not blessed with any of the higher traits
of character. We should defend them from injury and contempt.
We should cover their infirmities and weaknesses. We should
assist them in everything that is good; and be sure to assign them
useful and honorable employment.
Finally. The Apostle here suggests the duty of union and
coöperation among the servants of Christ. All the members of
the natural body act together, each one in its proper place, in
promoting the welfare of the whole, and of every part. The
cause of Christ is really one. His kingdom is one, and comprises
all his obedient subjects. His subjects all stand in the same rela-
tion to him, and to one another. As friends and disciples of
Christ, they have one common interest, one great object of affec-
tion and pursuit; that is, the honor of their Lord, the prosperity
of his kingdom, and the accomplishment of his benevolent purposes.
There may be different denominations of Christians and of min-
isters, and each of these denominations may have something
peculiar to itself, both as to the external forms of religion, and the
particular methods of promoting it. In regard to these, there
408 MIN IS T E R S G. U A R D ED
may be an honest difference among those who love the Lord Jesus
and who endeavor to know and do his will. Among these different
denominations, we are not to look for a complete coöperation.
Such coöperation is not to be attempted, and may not at present
be desirable. But the moment you come to anything which
belongs to the substance of Christianity, anything essential to the
great interest of the church, or the common duties of religion,
ministers and Christians ought all to be one. Here, there
should be a cordial and perfect coöperation. Here all the
friends of Christ do fully agree. And they ought to show
their agreement. Coöperation here is a natural and practicable
duty. Should, therefore, the ministers of any denomination be
full of ardor in promoting what is local, or what is peculiar to a
particular part of Christ's kingdom, while they look with coldness
on what relates to the common interest of the church; they would
show that their hearts are misguided through the deceitfulness of
sin. When the day of decision shall come ; when the light of
truth shall shine forth in its glory from the throne of God, and all
the delusions of the understanding and the passions shall cease ;
we shall see, that what related to our own personal interest, or the
interest of One particular denomination, in distinction from the
common interest of Christ's spiritual kingdom, was worthy of little
or no regard. Then every object will vanish out of sight, but the
worth of the immortal Soul, and the glory of Christ, and the dis-
tinction, so joyful on One side, and so tremendous on the other,
between the righteous and the wicked. Oh that Christians of
every name might anticipate the views and feelings they will have,
when all these clouds and shadows shall flee away, and the whole
moral world be filled with the clearness and splendor of divine
truth.
I}ut here there is need of serious caution. For Christian
fellowship and coöperation can properly go no further, than
there is real agreement. With all who manifestly belong to
the body of Christ and love his cause, we ought gladly to unite in
all those duties which are common to them and us, and in every
measure which is suited to advance the general prosperity of the
A. G. A. IN ST PIRIID E A N D EN V Y . 409
church, whatever minor differences may at present exist. But if
we would, in any way, unite with those, who do not maintain what
we believe to be the essential principles of Christianity, the union
must not extend to anything which involves those principles. Wé
can safely unite with them in those things only, in which their
peculiar views can have no effect on what we believe to be the
vital interests of religion. In a word, while we ought to exercise
the sincerest good will and kindness towards all men, towards
those especially, who have in our opinion imbibed pernicious errors;
we can properly maintain Christian fellowship with those only, who
agree with us respecting the essential principles of our holy
religion.
My DEAR NEPHEW,
I cannot, for a moment, call to remembrance what God has
done for you, and by what ways he has brought you hither, with
out a delightful impression of his great goodness. About eleve:
years ago, your honored father and I, after a long separation, had
unexpectedly the pleasure of meeting at our native place. Wish-
ing as I did to express my cordial gratitude for the pious concern
he had shown for me when I was a child, I proposed that his son,
whom he had very affectionately named to me, should receive a
public education, and proffered all the assistance in my power in
carrying such a design into effect. Many a time has his heart
and mine been filled with the tenderest emotions, at the thought
of the interview we then had, and of the consequences which have
flowed from it. And I cannot refrain from saying, that all the
solicitude which I have felt for your welfare, and the sincere,
though very defective efforts I have made for your improvement,
have received a four-fold reward. I say it to the glory of Him,
who has been the guide of your youth — to the glory of that grace
which has made you what you are.
If, my dear nephew, you look back to the time when, as we
hope, God called you with an holy calling, and gave you to expe-
rience the washing of regeneration and renewing of the Holy
Ghost; and then to the time when you began the arduous labor
WOL. W. 35
410 MIN IS TIER S G U A R D ED
of preparing for the ministry by a regular literary and theological
education; and if you call to remembrance the whole course of
your life since; you must perceive, that you are indebted to the
goodness of God in no ordinary degree, and that you are bound,
by everlasting obligations, to devote your talents, your life, your
whole being, to his holy Service. You are not your own. The
powers of mind which you possess; the literary acquisitions which
you have gained; your skill in Sacred criticism, your theological
knowledge, and all your qualifications for the work of the minis-
try, and for the particular office you are now called to fill, are
given you by the Head of the church. And for what are they
given 2 To fill your heart with vanity and self-complacency 7 To
excite and gratify an aspiring ambition ? The Spirit of God, I
trust, has taught you a very different sentiment. Just in propor-
tion to your talents and your attainments in knowledge, are your
obligations to love God and promote his cause. Your understand-
ing, your heart, your learning, your time, health, and influ-
ence are God's. Pride, then, is impiety; it is sacrilege. Banish
it forever from your heart. Or if it strives to maintain its place
there, make unceasing war against it. And let the hateful thing
be made to destroy itself, by occasioning deeper humility and self-
abhorrence.
Study, preach, and labor from love to Christ, a principle of
action infinitely nobler than ambition. Let that love be your
ruling passion. Under its holy influence, strive in all things to
excel; but with such a temper, that you will always be pleased
with the superior excellence of others. Forever avoid the dispo-
sition of those who envy the height which they cannot reach, and
who endeavor to stain and depress the fairest character which
they see rising above them.
You are engaged, my dear nephew, in an enterprise great and
arduous for any man, especially for one so young and inexperi-
enced. But your Saviour offers you his all-sufficient grace. And
there is one thing which cannot be mentioned, without bringing
into view the wisdom and goodness of God; that is, that the whole
course of your education has manifestly been directed by his
A G. A. IN ST PR, I D E A N D EN W Y. 411
providence with a view to the particular station for which you are
designated." Your education has been Suited so exactly to pre-
pare you for that station, that if you had from the first definitely
fixed your thoughts upon it, you could not have made any desira-
ble alteration in your plan of study. With this view of the merciful
guidance which God has afforded you, and with a full reliance on
this grace, take courage, and go forward in your work, always
keeping a steady eye upon your great object. While laboring to
discipline the minds of your pupils, and to promote the interests
of learning, remember that you are a Christian, and a minister
of the gospel, and that it is your duty, in both characters, to strive
for the promotion of true religion, as your great object. Go for-
ward then in the strength of God. Be faithful unto death; and
your merciful Saviour will give you the crown of eternal life.
* Note to the present edition of the Sermon.
The particular situation referred to was a Professorship in Columbia College
in the District of Columbia. After that, the Rev. Alva Woods, was for several
years, President of the College in Lexington, Ky., and then, for a longer time,
President of the College in Tuscaloosa, Alabama.
A S E R M 0 N
DELIVERED AT THE ORDINATION OF THE REV. BENJAMIN WOODBURY, AT FAL-
MOUTEI, MASS., JUNE 9, 1824.
1 Cor. 9: 22–I AM MADE ALL THINGS TO ALL MEN, THAT I MIGHT BY ALL
MEANS SAVE SOME. .
THERE is perhaps no passage of Scripture which has been more
frequently misinterpreted than this; and none which has been
applied to purposes more contrary to the design of the writer.
The principal abuse of it is to be found among those, whose tem-
per inclines to indecision and timidity, and who endeavor to justify
this weakness of character by the account the Apostle here gives
of his own conduct. The mistake which has in this way been
committed, and the injury which has resulted from it to the inter
ests of religion, have been so palpable, that some have been led
to discard altogether the principle of action asserted in the text,
and thus have fallen into errors as really hurtful to religion, as
those which they have labored to avoid. '
It becomes then a matter of consequence, to determine what
views the Apostle meant to express by the language of the text,
“I am made all things to all men.” What is the import of this
declaration ? And what are the limitations and cautions to be
ON BEING MAD E ALL THINGS TO ALL MEN. 413
observed, in a practical application of it to ministers at the present
day. -
Let us, in the first place, see what light we can derive from
passages in the same Epistle relating to the same general subject.
In the preceding chapter the Apostle introduces a question as
to the lawfulness of eating things offered in sacrifice to idols. He
teaches, that in those who partake of the sacrifice, there may be
no violation of a good conscience; and yet that they ought scru-
pulously to abstain, if their partaking would be any injury to
others. “Let every one of us please his neighbor for his good to
edification.” In other words we should consider the consciences
and weaknesses of those around us, and be ready to give up our
own liberty, and as far as may consist with higher obligations,
our own rights too, for the sake of doing good. But the particu-
lar design of the Apostle in the text becomes still more apparent
from the verses immediately preceding. In various forms, he
asserted his right to a maintenance from those, to whom he
preached. But to prevent objections which might arise against
the Christian religion, and to give additional weight to his instruc-
tions, he forebore to urge this right. The mention of this instance
of his benevolence led him to state more particularly in what
manner he regulated his conduct in relation to such subjects as
these. Though he was in the highest sense free, yet for the pur-
pose of doing good, he made himself a servant to all. “Unto
the Jews,” he says, “I became as a Jew, that I might gain the
Jews; to them that are under the law, as under the law, that I
might gain them that are under the law; to them that are without
law, as without law, (being not without law to God, but under law
to Christ,) that I might gain them that are without law; to the
weak became I as weak that I might gain the weak; I am made
all things to all men, that I might by all means save some.” In
things indifferent, he conformed to the feelings and customs of
those around him. In this practice of yielding, he went as far
as he could, consistently with duty. He never created offence by
deviating unnecessarily from the opinions or manners of those,
with whom he was conversant.
35*
414 O N B E IN G. M. A. D. E.
But we shall be further aided in fixing the proper limitations of
the Apostle's meaning, by a consideration of the object he aimed
at. “I am made all things to all men, that I might by all means
save some.” His object was the salvation of men. The means
he adopted were suited to promote this object. And if so, it
must be clear that, in becoming all things to all men, the Apostle
could not have conformed either to the sins, or to the errors of
men — as such a conformity would have had an influence directly
contrary to his object. For the same reason, he could not have
withheld divine truth. For he considered divine truth as the
means of turning men from their sins, and training them up for
heaven. To suppose that he suppressed any of the essential truths
of revelation, or that he either taught or countenanced error, is
to suppose that he not only forgot the end of his preaching, but
put a real obstacle in the way of attaining it.
It was still of great importance, as a means of promoting his
object, that he should abstain from everything in the mode of
preaching that would bar the minds of men against conviction, or
furnish them either with advantages to oppose religion, or with
an excuse for neglecting it. The consideration of his object must
also have induced him to forego any personal gratification, for the
good of his fellow-creatures, and in all cases to exhibit a kind and
peaceful deportment. We see what his disposition was in respect
to his maintenance. He claimed it as his unquestionable right.
But as there were some, who might impute wrong motives to him
if he should urge his claim, and might by that means acquire an
influence prejudicial to the cause of Christianity; he thought it
his duty to forbear. The mention of this led him to state more
fully, as in the text, that principle of condescension and self-
denial, by which he sought to help forward the salvation of men.
If, then, a question arise in our minds respecting the duty or pro-
priety of any particular instance of compliance, it will conduce
directly to a satisfactory answer, to inquire, whether it will have
an influence favorable to the Salvation of men. Will it produce
or strengthen in others a disposition to listen to the truths of
God’s word, and attend to the duties of religion? Will it be like-
A LL THINGS TO ALL MEN . 415
ly to invest us with greater power over their consciences, or to
open the avenues of their hearts to the doctrines we preach Or
will it diminish our influence, and render it more difficult than it
would otherwise be, to make an impression upon others in favor
of religion ? Will the remembrance of it create embarrassment
in our feelings, and hold us back from any faithful endeavors
for their conversion ? This reference to the end of the ministry
is frequently of great moment in cases of a doubtful character.
But we may discover still more clearly what must have been
the Apostle's meaning in the words of the text, by attending to
other passages found in his epistles, and to his own practice. He
enjoins the duty of faithfully declaring divine truth, and of 20m-
tending earnestly for the faith once delivered to the saints. He
exhorts Timothy to preach the word; to be instant in season, and
out of season; to speak the things which become sound doctrine ;
and mever to be ashamed of the testimony of the Lord. In his
farewell address to the church at Ephesus, he says, that he had
not shunned to declare all the counsel of God; that he had so
faithfully preached the truth, that he was pure from the blood of
all men. In another place, he speaks of himself and his fellow-
apostles, as having renounced all dishonesty and craftiness; as
not handling the word of God deceitfully, but by manifestation
of the truth commending themselves to every man’s conscience in
the sight of God. “We are not,” he says, “as many who cor-
rupt the word of God, but as of sincerity, but as of God, in the
sight of God, speak we in Christ.” Such were his directions to
Timothy; and such the account he gave of himself and his fellow-
laborers. His practice was correspondent. What doctrine or
duty of Christianity did he conceal What prevalent error or
sin did he not expose and reprobate 2 He could not however,
declare all the truths of religion at once ; and he was, of course,
under the necessity of selecting the truths to be declared on each
particular occasion. But in that selection, he was not influenced
by fear of man, nor by dread of reproach and suffering, nor by
desire of applause ; but by that benevolence which aimed at the
salvation of men, and that wisdom which chose the most suitable
416 O N B E IN G M A D E
means to secure it. In the course of his ministry, he announced
the doctrines of the gospel without any reservation, and defended
them against the most artful and violent opposers. When did
Paul say of this or that doctrine of religion — it is attended with
so many difficulties, and liable to so many objections or abuses,
that it is best to pass over it in silence 7 When did he, on any
proper occasion, refrain from declaring the truth, because he
thought it would expose him to inconvenience and suffering 7 Let
his epistles answer. Let the history of his life answer. It was he,
more than any other Apostle, who plainly taught those principles
of Christianity, which have been an offence to the wicked world.
It was he – pliable and condescending as he was — who boldly
declared those very doctrines, which certain prudent souls of
modern days think we ought never to declare. Here the Apostle
made no compromise. He proclaimed and defended the truth in
all its length and breadth, whether men would hear, or forbear;
he did it, knowing that it would be a savor of death unto death,
as well as life unto life. Had he been willing to give up a few
doctrines which were specially offensive, he might have preached
all the rest and yet escaped martyrdom. But he had received a
commission from the Lord of heaven and earth ; and he executed
that commission faithfully, though fully aware it would cost him
his life. .
On this part of the subject, then, we are left in no doubt.
Paul’s being made all things to all men, implied no such conform-
ity, as prevented him from declaring any part of divine truth, or
from declaring it in such a manner, as was most likely to convey
to others the very conceptions of it, which he had in his own mind.
And it is an act of justice to the Apostle to add, that, notwith-
standing his candor, and his disposition to conform, he was as far
as possible from countenancing those, who held doctrines subver-
sive of the Christian religion.
It is still to be remembered, that even in respect to his preach-
ing, the spirit which the Apostle expressed in the text, had an
important influence. He showed a mild, amiable temper. He
preached with great humility, and with sincere affection. He
A LIL TH IN G. S TO ALL MEN . 417
vºy
warned men with tears. He manifested great unwillingness to
wound the feelings of men, and never did it, except when it was
required by love and faithfulness. As to those things which were
aside from the object of his commission, he was ready to conform
to others. -
Were it necessary, I could illustrate the important principle,
which governed the Apostle, by referring to the life of Christ.
Paul had the spirit of his Lord and master. Now it is evident,
that Christ conformed to his countrymen in those things, and in
those things only, in which he could do it without transgressing
the divine law himself, or giving countenance to transgression in
others. He conformed to common usage, as to the modes of
speech, and social intercourse. He conformed to the established
precepts and rights of the Jewish religion. He was completely
a Jew. And to cut off occasion of complaint, he did what no Jew
could willingly do, that is, paid tribute to Caesar. In these and
other instances, in which Jesus practised conformity, it is clear,
that there was no violation of any precept of the moral law ; and
that his object was to prevent needless offence, and to accomplish
the benevolent work for which he came into the world. Such
was the conformity of Christ, and such the end it was intended
to accomplish. Doubtless the conformity of Paul, both as to its
nature and object, was substantially the same.
Thus from an examination of the Epistle and chapter contain-
ing the text, from a consideration of the end which the Apostle
sought, from his instructions to Timothy and others, from his own
conduct, and from the life of Christ, which he made his model, it
is evident, that his practice of becoming all things to all men im-
plied no disposition to quiet the proud, rebellious heart by with-
holding any portion of divine truth — no disposition to refrain
from a faithful annunciation of the law or its high Sanctions — no
disposition to refrain from declaring the guilt of man, or the evil
of sin, or the only way of salvation through Jesus Christ. To
these and other like subjects his conformity was never extended.
It was limited either to his own personal rights and comforts, or
to those opinions and customs of men, which were in their nature
indifferent. -
418 - O N BEING M A DE
The principles which have now been exhibited, may assist us to
guard against the two extremes, to which ministers are liable,
in respect to the subject under consideration; the one, eaccessive
pliancy; the other, too unbending a strictness;– the one, a dispo-
Sition to conform to others in everything ; the other, an unwilling-
ness to conform in anything. To both these extremes ministers
are exposed ; and into both they have actually fallen, to the great
injury of religion.
Shall we, then, turn our thoughts to the minister who errs on
the side of an easy conformity, and consider a few moments, the
peculiarities of his character, and the pleas by which he attempts
to justify himself. The character he exhibits, is that of too great
flexibility. To gratify his desire of pleasing, he adopts, with little
discrimination the practices of others, even of the thoughtless and
irreligious. When anything is proposed to him, his question is
not, whether it would be agreeable to the will of God, and would
help forward the interests of the Soul; but whether it would be .
agreeable to custom; or whether it would please. You may some-
times find a minister of this sort, who is ready to fall in with any
practices prevalent in the community, especially in the more
respectable part of it, even so far as to join with them in their
levity, their vain amusements, their disregard of the Lord's day,
and their disposition to slur the doctrines and duties of reli-
gion. In his preaching, both as to matter and manner, he con-
forms to the wishes of his hearers, particularly of those who have
the highest rank and polish. He reproves them for none of their
follies or sins; or if ever he reproves them, he does it so lightly
and smoothly, as to make it evident that he is much less anxious
for their reformation, than for their applause. Any truths which
are offensive to them, are sure to be excluded from his sermons;
yea, and so pliable is his faith, from his creed too. And to justify
all this conformity, he pleads the example of the Apostle, who
was “made all things to all men.” He forgets that the same
Apostle expressly commanded Christians, “not to be conformed to
the world,” and that another inspired writer said, “whosoever will
be a friend of the world, is the enemy of God.” He forgets that
A L L T H IN G. S TO ALL M E N . 419
the Apostle to whom he refers as his pattern, was of all preachers
the most bold and faithful in reproving sin, in proclaiming those
truths of Christianity which expose the deep-rooted wickedness of
the heart, and in urging men to come out from the world and
live a heavenly life. He forgets all this. He looks at only one
part of the subject, and looks at that with only one eye.
But he may have other apologies. He may think that, if he
should insist upon all the doctrines of the Bible, and strenuously
urge men to observe all its precepts, he would create in their
minds an aversion to the whole subject of religion; and that, if
he should refuse to join with them in those amusements, which
fashion has made essential to their happiness, he would deprive
himself of the most effectual means of securing their attachment,
and of bringing them to attend on his ministrations.
To this plea my reply is short. If men really possess such a
temper of mind, that they are not pleased with the doctrines and
precepts of the Bible, it is surely important they should know it.
As these doctrines and precepts constitute the Christian religion;
if we give them up, we give up Christianity. And if we give up
any part of them, we give up just so great a part of Christianity.
Why should we forget the example of the Apostle, who uniformly
preached what was an offence to the Jews, and foolishness to the
Greeks 7 And why should we forget the business of our calling?
The Lord Jesus Christ has sent us to do a great work. The
enmity of the human heart against religion, instead of being in-
dulged and flattered, must be exposed and subdued. Instead of
suppressing the doctrines and precepts of religion, we must per-
suade men to believe and obey them. If we fail of this we make
our office a nullity. Christ has sent us to carry on a holy war
against sin—against all sin, and to do it by means of divine truth.
Shall we give up this holy warfare, and make peace with that
mortal enemy of our Lord, which it is the great business of our
office to resist and overcome 7 r
This pliable minister thinks, that if he should refuse to join with
men in those amusements, which fashion has rendered essential to
their happiness, he would deprive himself of the most effectual
420 O N B E IN G M A. D. E.
means of securing their attachment, and bringing them to attend
on his ministrations. A strange apology this — Secure the
attachment of men, who are displeased with the doctrines and
duties of religion, and secure it by joining with them in vain
amusements' and all this, to bring them to attend on ministrations,
from which the essential truths of religion are excluded !
A minister of the character above described, may proceed to
say in his own justification, that religion cannot be designed to
take away his enjoyments, and render him gloomy and dejected;
that he has as good a right to pleasure as others, and that if he is
to have any pleasure, it must be by indulgences which agree with
his taste.
. The very statement of this apology betrays a depravation of
moral taste, utterly inconsistent with the object of a minister, and
with the character of a Christian. The enjoyment which religion
Sanctions, is holy enjoyment, consisting in love and obedience to
God, and in doing good to men. He who cannot be happy in this,
has no right to the Sacred office, and no right to happiness.
Religion forbids the pleasures of sin; and he who chooses to enjoy
them — who resorts for happiness to scenes of dissipation, instead
of the duties of his office—who prefers fashionable parties to the
chamber of sickness or to meetings for prayer, is no minister of
the gospel, and no Christian.
After all, such a minister may think that an easy conformity to
the opinions, fashions, and amusements of the world must tend to
promote his object. But I ask, what object 7 not the object of the
faithful minister, which is, to turn men from their sins, and bring
them to walk by faith. If we conform to men’s follies and sins,
we show that we do not desire their salvation. And even if we
did desire it, we could have no influence to promote it. We might
publicly inculcate the obligations of repentance and holiness; but
our hearers would appeal to our life, as a disproof of the sincerity
of our preaching, and a full release from every duty we might
enjoin. If a minister is in fact pursuing an object which he can
promote by conforming to the follies and amusements of the world,
he is pursuing an object entirely foreign to his office; an object,
\
ALL THINGS To ALL MEN. 421
which he must forever abandon, to be a minister of the gospel, and
which his people must abandon, to be Christians. -
Place such a minister by the side of the Apostle. It was his
object to persuade men to set their affections on things above, not
on things on the earth, to practise self-denial, to shun temptation,
to live as Jesus lived. His condescending and flexible temper
was such, and the conduct which it prompted was such, as tended
directly to promote this object. It enabled him boldly and faith-
fully to reprove sin, to declare the whole counsel of God, and to
press the necessity of universal holiness. But the easy conformity
now pleaded for, will forever prevent a minister from promoting
such an exalted object. What minister, after having allowed
himself to join with the thoughtless multitude in fashionable folly and
vanity, would think of urging upon Christians the duty of being
Sober-minded, of being dead to the world, and of living in the
constant expectation of the coming of their Lord 7
The most common and powerful plea, used to justify a minister,
who errs on the side of conformity, is, that it will conciliate the
affections of others, and give him influence over them. But I
question the fact. If my own observation has not led me into a
mistake, the minister, who seeks popular favor by disregarding the
circumspection which his religion enjoins, and by conforming more
or less to the vanities of the world, will fail of obtaining his object.
Corrupt as men are in their moral affections, they still possess
conscience and common sense, and will generally form an opinion
of the character of ministers, not far from the truth. Though
the minister, who bends to compliances forbidden by the precepts
of religion, māy gratify the feelings of the wicked by the counte-
nance he gives to their impiety, he forfeits their esteem, and
destroys his influence over their consciences. He makes it mani-
fest that he has no decision, no strength of character, no steady
principle of action; that he is a slave to the whims of the multi-
tude. He loses the charm of unaffected goodness. He deprives
himself of that respect and confidence of men, which a dignified
independence and a faithful discharge of duty always com-
mand. And in the sober judgment of the community, after all
VOL. V. 36
\
422 - ON BE IN G M A D E
his pains to please, he is sure to stand for a weak and contemptible
DOla Il. - -
But there is another fault, though not common at the present
day, against which we ought also to guard ; that is, eaccessive strict-
ness. A minister chargeable with this fault, indulges an unyield-
ing pertinacity in things trifling and insignificant, as well as in
things of the highest moment. He insists upon having his own
way, where the difference between his way and that of others
is of no consideration. He knows not how to bend, even where
bending would be a credit to his character, and an advantage to
all the interests he is seeking. For the feelings and wishes and
habits of others, whether respecting things important or unimpor-
tant, he shows no respect. He will do nothing to please, even
where pleasing would be perfectly consistent with the highest
demands of duty. -
This is the other extreme. And we shall see what reason we
have to be upon our guard against it, if we examine the principles
from which it results, and the consequences to which it leads. In
forming this character of stiffness and austerity, it cannot be
denied that conscience may have a part. I mean, however, a
mistaken conscience, arising from mistaken views of God and his
law. But though conscience may do something towards forming
such a character, pride unquestionably does more. It is obvious
to every intelligent observer, that needless rigidness and austerity
flow not so much from respect for God, or fear of sin, as from
self-conceit. Were the minister now referred to, influenced by a
respect for God and his law, he would exercise the spirit of gen-
\tleness and love. He would take care, as Paul directs, to “give
none offence either to the Jews, or to the Gentiles, or to the
church of God;’ and would strive as the same Apostle did, “to
please all men in all things,” (that is, as far as consistent with
duty,) “not seeking his own profit, but the profit of many, that
they might be saved.” Were he to judge of things by the stand-
ard of God’s word, he would in a multitude of instances see, that
the haughtiness or obstimacy, which keeps him from complying
with the wishes of others, is more sinful, than the very compliances
to which he is so rigidly averse. -
A LL TH IN G S TO ALL MEN . 423
A minister of this character deprives religion of its most
attractive beauties, and, by mixing 80 many of his own faults with
it, renders it unamiable. Thus, instead of conciliating the atten-
tion of the thoughtless to his instructions, he creates prejudice and
aversion. * -
He may say that this rigidness of opinions and manners is a
part of self-denial. But he who says this, might possibly find,
if he would make the trial, that the exercise of a pliant, yielding
temper would be a higher instance of self-denial — a more noble
victory over himself. -
He may plead, that if he should exercise that pliancy and con-
descension which is contended for, and should thus become all
things to all men; some of the best ministers and Christians
would put a wrong construction upon it, and reproach him as a
time-server.
My answer is, that if the judgment or taste of Christians varies
from the word of God, we ought to do all in our power to correct
their mistake, not to confirm it. Excessive strictness and perti-
macity is a mistake of hurtful tendency. It implies a palpa-
ble oversight as to the radical and universal principles of human
nature, and the means of doing good; — an oversight, which no
minister can commit, without detracting from the worth of his
character, and the success of his labors. And suppose it to be the
case, that by an exact conformity to the precepts and the example
of Christ, we should incur the reproach of Some good men, and
good men of our own party too; is this any reason for neglecting
a substantial duty, and violating God's holy word May it not
be as proper to suffer for Christ in this way, as in any other ?
Yea, if duty requires, may we not show even higher respect for
Christ, and higher fortitude, by suffering reproach from good men,
than from bad — from our own party, than from opposers? A
minister of ordinary character, encouraged and supported by his
particular friends, can well enough bear the reproach of the wicked
world, and even of those good men with whom he has no connec-
tion. But for one steadily to pursue a course of conduct marked
out by the word of God, when he knows it will expose him to the
424 O N BE IN G M A. D. E.
suspicion and censure of his friends, and his own party, requires
greater firmness—requires a more powerful exercise of faith and
self-denial. If a minister is ever called to this, let him stand up
and meet it, relying on the strength of Christ, and looking to
heaven for his reward.
I shall notice one more plea in favor of the unbending strictness
above described ; namely: that it is essential to decision of char-
acter. But of what value is that decision, which is not connected
with a good disposition and a sound judgment 2 Unless a minister
makes it apparent that his temper is benevolent, and that he has
the wisdom which is profitable to direct, what power can he have
to promote the great interests of religion ? He may indeed pos-
sess a firmness as unyielding as the firmness of an Oak; — and the
firmness of an oak may be as valuable as his.
The want of a Sound judgment, and of a mild, yielding temper,
will continually throw difficulties in a minister’s way, which will
embarrass him in whatever he undertakes. The dispositions of
others, the principles of human nature, the circumstances of so-
ciety, and the movements of divine providence, will all be against
him. Many a man, possessed of distinguished talents, and glow-
ing zeal, and sincere piety too, and thus qualified for great things,
has been totally disabled, and rendered weak as a child, by some
indiscretion, some want of a mild, conciliatory manner, Some apt-
mess to mistake, or to give needless offence. While he who unites
judgment with zeal, meekness with integrity, and pliableness in
little things with inflexible firmness in great things, will have
power to do good. Whether he aims at it, or not, he will be
continually augmenting his influence. His decision has efficacy.
It moves the minds of men. It moves human affairs.
I3ut a minister wanting in goodness of temper, in Soundness
of judgment, or in civility of manners, may rouse all the energy
he possesses in mind and in speech, and may show you how decided
and fixed he is in regard to some great concern — and yet accom-
plish nothing at all. Other men have minds of their own, on
which they place as much reliance as on his ; and after witnessing
the display he makes of his warmth and decision, will follow their
own judgment, and leave him sovereign of himself.
A L L T HIN G. S T O ALL M E N . 425
The moment we appeal to facts, we see that self-will and stiff-
ness constitute no part of real strength of character. On the
other hand, we see that the greatest amiableness and pliability
of temper, and a readiness, as far as is consistent, to become all
things to all men, is perfectly compatible with the highest point
of decision. Few mon have ever exhibited greater decision than
Paul. But he excelled not more in this, than in meekness and
pliancy. The highest decision of character ever exhibited on
earth, was in Jesus of Nazareth. And in the same blessed per-
Sonage, there was the highest display ever made on earth, of
kindness and gentleness and condescension.
36*
A S E R M 0 N
DSLIVERED AT THE INSTAILATION OF THE REV. NATELANIEL HEWIT, D. D.,
BRIDGEPORT, CONN., DEC. 1, 1830.
Eccl. 7: 1. — A GOOD NAME IS BETTER THAN PRECIOUS or NTMENT.
DESIRE for the esteem and affection of others is inseparable
from our intellectual and moral constitution. But those who are
conscious of a special dependence on the good opinion of others .
for the accomplishment of their desires respecting either their own
welfare, or the welfare of their fellow men, and those too, whose
moral susceptibilities are heightened and refined by cultivation,
must be peculiarly alive to the approbation and esteem of their
fellow men. It is accordingly found, that educated and profes-
sional men generally feel a more than ordinary interestin whatever
concerns their reputation.
But on the present occasion, I shall confine my remarks to the
value of a good name in respect to a minister of the gospel.
The subject may be considered, first, as relating to a minister's
private enjoyment. Having, like all others, a natural desire for
the esteem of his fellow men, he must be gratified when that.
esteem is manifested. And in consequence of his having more
refined sensibilities, and a more intimate and extensive connection
with others, than men commonly have, he has in an unusual degree,
an aptness to be affected with whatever concerns his reputation.
IMPORTANCE OF A MINISTER’s REPTITATION. 427
The possession of an unspotted character is one of his most
precious earthly comforts. It animates him in his duties, and helps
to render his severest labors pleasant. It is a refreshment to him
when weary and exhausted, and a precious solace in seasons
of affliction. On the other hand, what calamity is there which
wounds him so deeply, as a stain upon his reputation ?
But if we would understand the chief value of a minister’s
good name, we must consider it as the means of promoting his use-
fulness. In every part of his office, the benefit resulting from
his labors will be very much in proportion to the character he sus-
tains in the view of the community. The usefulness of his labors
consists in the effect he produces on the minds of those to whom
he ministers; and this effect is inseparably connected with their
views of his character. Say what you will as to what is desirable
and proper; that which I have stated will be a fact, while human
nature remains as it is.
For the correctness of this representation, I appeal to the
experience of those whom I address. When you have heard a
minister of blameless reputation and eminent piety preach the
truths of religion; has not your reverence for the man, and
your confidence in his goodness given new force to his instruc- .
tions : Has not the charaq;er of the preacher been associated in
your minds with the truths he has inculcated 7 and has it not in
this way been the means of impressing those truths more deeply
and permanently on your hearts, and of investing them with
greater power over your actions? But if you have ever been so
unhappy as to attend on the preaching of a minister whose reputa-
tion in your view was not good — especially one whose faults were
palpable and glaring; has not this circumstance detracted from
the benefit which might otherwise have been derived from his
labors ? How weighty soever the doctrines he has set forth, and
how serious and eloquent Soever the manner of his preaching ; has
not the remembrance of the improprieties of his conduct gone far
towards preventing the good effect of what you have heard from
his lips?
And is not the same true in regard to every other part of min-
428 |ſ Mi PO R T A N (; Bì () F ,
isterial labor 7 A minister of Christ comes to you in time of
affliction, and with the looks and the language of sympathy,
attempts to minister to your comfort. Is not the effect produced
upon your heart derived in a great measure from your views of his
character 7 If you have confidence in his goodness; his conver-
sation and prayers take strong hold on your feelings. Everything
he says comes to your mind in close alliance with the excellence
of his character. The very sight of him when he enters your
house, and the thought of him when absent, infuses a kind
of Sacredness into the sensations of your heart. But have you
ever been thus profited by the visits of a minister, for whose char-
acter you have had no cordial esteem : In such a case, has not
your mind been barred against any good influence from his con-
versation, and even from his prayers ? Have you not been
conscious of a kind of involuntary resistance against the most
important truths, when introduced by one, of whom you enter-
tained so low an opinion ?
You are sometimes desirous of conversing freely with your
minister respecting your spiritual interests. Doubts and difficul-
ties arise in your mind, which you wish him to solve. You have a
struggle with Some wrong propensity, in regard to which you need
his assistance. If you esteem and love him, as a faithful minister
of Christ; you can unreservedly disclose to him your inward
struggles and difficulties, and in many ways derive benefit from his
counsels and prayers. But if you suspect that he is not ac-
quainted by experience with the conflicts and enjoyments of the
Christian life; your intercourse with him will fail of securing to
you any important benefits.
A good name is of great value to a minister, as it gives a Salu-
tary influence to his example. If his reputation is unblemished;
his daily conduct— the whole course of his life, will have a happy
effect upon the minds of his people. But only let them observe
or hear anything which mars his ministerial character, and they
will quickly regard with suspicion his most virtuous actions, and so
even that part of his example which is right, will lose its Salutary
influence.
A MINISTER’s REPUTATION. 429
There is still another view to be taken of the subject. The
Christian world is engaged in many benevolent enterprises. In
most of these, ministers of the gospel have a principal agency.
Their education, their office, and their influence in society qualify
them to be specially useful in forwarding all the objects of Chris-
tian benevolence. But there is no way, in which they can con-
tribute more effectually or more permanently to the promotion of
these objects, than by the influence of a good name. To be
espoused and advocated by one who is esteemed a wise and good
man, is an advantage to any cause. The mere knowledge of this
fact will make new friends to the cause, and increase the at-
tachment and zeal of those who were friends before. If a min-
ister has a blameless and respectable character; every argument
he uses and every effort he makes in behalf of a good cause,
turns to account. On the contrary, it cannot but prove a dis-
advantage to any cause, however excellent in itself, that a man
of bad character is its advocate. All his efforts to promote it
are paralyzed, or rendered hurtful, by the knowledge of his
misconduct. In this way Christianity itself has suffered an in-
jury, which human power can never repair.
Such as I have now described, is the value of a good name to
a minister of the gospel, in reference to his own enjoyment, and
in reference to the various ways in which he may be useful to
his fellow men. r
See then in what light we are to regard those who by detraction,
slander, or any of the forms of evil speaking, injure the reputation
of a Christian minister. We must regard them as guilty of a
direct violation of that precept, written by the finger of God on
tables of stone : Thou shalt not bear false witness against thy
neighbor. They are guilty too of violating that comprehensive
command, so often repeated in the New Testament: Thou shalt
love thy neighbor as thyself. Who would slander himself? Who
would publish his own failings for the purpose of disgracing him-
Self” .
To injure a minister's good name is to transgress that direc-
tion of Christ, which is approved by every man’s conscience,
430 IMPORTANCE OF
and which has been pronounced by all the world to be prečmi-
nently excellent: Whatsoever ye would that others should do writo
gyou, do ye also the same unto them. Now would any one of you
regard it a desirable thing, that others should indulge prejudices
and evil surmises against you, and by venting them in any of
the ways of evil speaking, should endeavor to lower you in the
public estimation ? Would you wish to have your character
aspersed ? But if you would not be willing that others should do
this to you, how can you do it to them, without transgressing this
righteous precept
The Scriptures make freedom from the guilt of backbiting and
slander to be essential to the character of God's people. Who
shall abide in thy tabernacle 2 Who shall dwell in thy holy hill 2
An important part of the reply is: He that backbiteth not with his
tongue, nor taketh up a reproach against his neighbor. An
apostle says: If any man among you seemeth to be religious, and
bridleth not his tongue, that man’s religion is vain. And another
says: Speak evil of no man. And if you wish to know how our
blessed Saviour regards evil speaking, listen to his words: “Out
of the heart proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornica-
tions, false witness, evil speakings.” He puts evil speaking in
company with the blackest crimes. In like manner Paul puts
whisperers and backbiters by the side of fornicators, murderers,
and haters of God. And when he enumerated the odious char-
acters that should appear in the last times, he gave evil speakers
a prominent place. “Men shall be lovers of themselves, covet-
ous — evil speakers— false accusers.” Such, according to
God’s holy word, is the guilt of backbiting and evil speaking.
But this crime, always so detestable in the sight of God, is at-
tended with peculiar aggravations, when committed against one
who sustains the sacred office of ambassador of Christ, and is
entrusted, in so important a sense, with the interests of the
church.
Do any of my hearers wonder, that the inspired writers so em-
phatically forbid and reprobate evil speaking, and represent it
as so heinous an offence? You will cease to wonder, if you
, A MINISTER’s REPUTATION. 431
tº
consider from what sources it springs, and what evils follow in
its train. -
The sin of evil speaking, being from its very nature designed
to injure others, must proceed from a malevolent disposition. It
can spring from no other source. If you speak evil of another,
it is because you do not love him; because you are actuated by
ill will. And if any of you should endeavor, by slanderous rep-
resentations, to injure the character of a minister of Christ, you
would betray not only hatred to him, but disregard of the Master
whom he serves, and of the cause which he is laboring to pro-
mote. And what can be more criminal, than disaffection, or
even indifference, to the honor of Christ, and the success of his
gospel ?
The experience of ages confirms the truth of these remarks.
For there never was a man, who was alive to the glory of his
Saviour, and who cordially desired the success of his gospel, who
did not at the same time feel a tender regard for the reputation
of ministers. -
Such then is the principle, which leads men to asperse the
character of those who bear the sacred office. The heart of
man, depraved as it is, is hardly capable of a disposition more
contrary to goodness, or more hateful to God, than that which
is exhibited by slanderers; especially those who slander the min-
isters of Christ.
And the evil of their conduct will be still more manifest, if
you consider the consequences which naturally flow from it. -
In the first place, they who slander a Christian minister, strike
a heavy blow at his private interest and happiness. They rob him
of that which is of more value to him than any other earthly good.
Those who injure the good name of a minister, injure his use-
fulness. The injury will affect every benevolent object which he
aims to promote. It will affect the welfare of his church. Every
follower of Christ who sits under his ministry, will suffer loss.
The evil will spread as far as his influence extends; because his
influence will be less salutary in proportion as he enjoys less of
the esteem and confidence of his fellow-men.
432 IMPORT A N C E OF
Now when you take into consideration the disposition which
prompts men to injure a minister's reputation, and the permicious
consequences which are likely to result from such injury, you will
cease to wonder, that it is so emphatically prohibited and so
severely condemned by the word of God. Your wonder will
rather be, that it should prevail to so fearful an extent among
those who profess to be followers of Christ.
If then there is any one in the community, who allows himself,
either publicly or privately, to injure the reputation of a Chris-
tian minister — with such a one I would earnestly expostulate.
Come then, my friend, and let us reason together. Consider
that a minister's character is his dearest earthly treasure ; and
remember that you owe it a just respect. Rob him of his sub-
stance, and inflict wounds upon his body, rather than rob him of
his good name, or wound his character. Suppress, then, those
slanderous words you are about to speak, and those evil surmises
you are about to utter. Though sport to you, they may be arrows
and death to him. .*
The injury you are about to commit against the character of a
minister, may also involve his domestic circle, now cheerful and
happy, in sufferings not to be described.
But I wish you more particularly to consider, how far your
evil surmises and slanders may go towards injuring a minister’s
usefulness. By aspersing his character, and destroying the
confidence which the public repose in his integrity, you will do
much towards rendering his best efforts abortive, and his talents
and acquisitions worthless. In this way you will hinder the con-
version of sinners, the Sanctification of believers, and the spread
of the gospel among those who are perishing.
To the man who speaks lightly of the character of gospel min-
isters, I must say, a heavy charge lies against you in the book *
of God’s remembrance. You are guilty of violating God’s holy
law. You are guilty of doing a great injury to a fellow being,
and to one who is employed in a sacred and benevolent work,
and to whom a good name is prečminently important. You are
guilty of committing this injury against a man who in all proba-
A MINISTER’s REPUTATION. . 433
bility never injured you, but has cordially wished to do you good.
And are you sure that you are not guilty of falsehood 7 I will
venture to say, that at least a great part of your evil surmises
and the unfavorable reports you circulate respecting gospel min
isters, are utterly groundless; and that you yourself would find
them So, if you should ever take pains to examine them. Have
you not good reason then to fear, lest you should subject your-
self to the condemnation of those who retail falsehood and cal-
umny ?
And is not your conduct stamped with cowardice and base-
mess? If you reproach and insult a minister to his face, though
you may be guilty of impudence and rudeness, your conduct
may have some appearance of courage and manhood. But to
say things against him behind his back, when he can have no
opportunity to defend himself; to avoid fair and open combat, and
to attack him in the dark — what is this but a compound of cruelty
and meanness 2 What but the lurking warfare of the Savage, or
the midnight assassin 7
Such, and more than I can now set forth, is the guilt of de-
signedly injuring the good name of a gospel minister. Such is
the guilt of injuring the good name of any one who bears the
sacred office. Some ministers reject the doctrines which were
held sacred by the Reformers, and by the fathers of New Eng-
land. But have they, on this account, forfeited their title to be
spoken of with truth, and to be treated with candor and kind-
ness? I do indeed consider a minister who rejects the doctrines
commonly called evangelical, to be in a great error. But can it be
proper to oppose error by slander, instead of argument 7 or to
attempt to promote the cause of Christianity by transgressing one
of its fundamental laws? These are not the weapons of our
warfare. Say —if such is your belief—that a minister’s opin-
ions are erroneous, and then prove them to be so. But what
right have you to load him with reproach and calumny ? You
may as well steal his property. Do you say, his property is his
own 7 So is his reputation. And you have no more right to
deprive him of the one, than of the other.
WOL. V. 37
434 IMPO R. T. A N C E O F
I have made these remarks in regard to any minister. But
they must have a special emphasis in relation to one, who cor-
dially embraces the doctrines of the gospel, who is earnestly
engaged in his work, and who discharges the duties of his sacred
calling with fidelity. To slander him who is truly a spiritual
guide, and who desires nothing so much as the Salvation of men,
betrays a perverseness of disposition which is not easily de-
scribed. -
Possibly some one may say within himself, that he cannot sub-
mit to such restraints of his natural liberty; that his tongue is
his own, and that he shall use it as he pleases. But I must-
tell you, my friend, that your tongue is no more your own, than
your hands are ; and that you have no more right to use the
former as you please, than the latter. You may as well Smite
and wound a gospel minister with your hands, as with your
tongue. To do either is disobedience to the God who made you.
He claims an absolute authority over all the faculties of your
mind, and all the members of your body, especially over your
tongue. And to assert the right to injure the reputation of a
gospel minister, is to assert the right to sin against God.
You may plead, that the minister of whom you are disposed to
speak evil, has failings, of which you cannot be ignorant. And
perhaps you may complain, that he has in Some way given you
offence.
De it so then, that he is obviously subject to failings, and that
he has in some way offended you. The Lord Jesus, by an ex-
press precept, points out the course for you to pursue. Go and
tell him his fault between you and him alone. Have you com-
plied with this just and holy command 7
It is true that every minister of the gospel has failings. And,
my dear friend, whom I hear complaining of the failings of a
minister, have you no failings : And how would you desire
that your failings should be treated 7 Treat his in the same
Iºla, Illſler,
But do you know with what heart-felt grief he reflects upon
his failings, and how often he has confessed them and wept over
A MINISTER’s REPUTATION. 435
them; how sincerely he abhors himself, and how deeply he is
humbled before God on account of them 7 Iſave you in like
manner confessed and mourned over your failings 7
The pious minister, of whom you complain, has failings indeed.
But with all his failings, God has put him into the ministry, and
called him to engage in that most sacred work. And God,
though infinitely holy, bears with his failings, and graciously for-
gives them. And will you reproach a penitent with those fail-
ings, which a holy and merciful God freely forgives 7 “It is
God that justifieth; who is he that condemneth 7” That Chris-
tian minister is God’s servant, not yours. And the God whom
he serves, and to whom he is accountable, has blotted out his
sins, and will never remember them. And who art thou, that
thou shouldst try to undo what the God of heaven has done 7
— that thou shouldst remember, and magnify, and blazon abroad
those faults, which God Almighty chooses to pardon and forget 7
I grant, that the minister whom you reproach, has failings and
weaknesses of character even more than you have ever noticed.
But does he not possess excellences also 2 Is there not reason
to think, that he is a friend and follower of Jesus; that he cher-
ishes a hearty concern for the salvation of men and the pros-
perity of the church; and that he repents and makes confession,
and repairs to his heavenly advocate for pardon and cleansing?
Now is it right to overlook his piety to God, his benevolence to
men, his penitence, his fidelity, and usefulness — can it be right
to overlook all these good qualities, and continually to dwell upon
his faults, and magnify and proclaim them, as though they consti-
tuted his whole character 7
But as to the particular faults which you impute to him — are
you sure that they really belong to him 7 Is it a matter of cer-
tain knowledge with you, or is it a matter of hear-say or sus-
picion ? Do your accusations rest on clear evidence — evi-
dence which you are able to produce : Or do they spring from
Some groundless report, or some unhallowed feeling in your own
breast 7
To those who are disposed to treat the reputation of a minister
436 IM PO R.T. A N C E OF
either injuriously or lightly, I have still one word more. Re-
member then, that thero is a God who judgeth in the earth, and
that he will recompense you for the injury you do to the charac-
ter of his servants. “With what measure ye mete, it shall be
measured to you again l’” It may not be long before your actions
or motives shall be treated with unsparing severity. Your char-
acter, to which you are so alive, may be blackened by the foulest
aspersions. And if you persist in the practice of evil Speaking,
you may by and by be subjected to general reproach, which will
be the more insupportable to you, because you will feel it to be
just. An attack may be made upon you, which you will be un-
able to resist. Public indignation may be kindled against you ;
infamy and contempt may overwhelm you. This may be your
recompense even in the present life. And remember, that a
day of final reckoning is at hand, when the Lord will judge you
for all your evil Surmises and hard speeches against his minis-
ters, and in the presence of angels and men will say to you; —
inasmuch as ye did it unto one of the least of these my servants, ye
did it unto me. --
Permit me to remind ministers of the gospel of the regard which
they owe to each other's reputation. Would to God that this duty
were properly attended to, and that the language of Christian
ministers respecting one another were always the language of
mutual forbearance, candor, and love. If it is so criminal for
other men to slander ministers, it is still more criminal for minis-
ters to slander one another, or in any way to detract from one
another's reputation. It ought to be our invariable resolution,
that no one who sustains the Sacred office, shall ever have his
character or usefulness injured by any injustice or heedlessness
on our part. On the contrary, let us do all in our power, by
fair and honest means, to shield the reputation and increase the
usefulness of every one of our brothren; so that the world around
us may have occasion to say; behold, how these ministers love one
another /
But important as this duty is, there is one of still greater ur-
gency; I mean the duty of taking care of our own character.
A MINISTER’S REPUTATION. 437
Our friends may be ever so solicitous for our reputation, and over
so watchful to shield us from calumny. Duff what will their so-
licitude avail us, unless we ourselves are awake to the subject,
and carefully avoid whatever would expose our character to re-
proach. With an unsullied reputation, we may do much for tho
cause of Christ; without it, all our labors will be of little value.
Let us then guard this precious treasure with unceasing vigi-
lance.
Are we not too inattentive to the importance of this subject”
The word of God makes it essential to every one who bears the
ministerial office, that he should be of good report. We cannot
trifle with our own reputation, we cannot neglect to guard it from
injury, without neglecting a most Sacred duty. For in truth, our
reputation is not our own. We owe it, and all the power which
it gives us to do good, to our blessed Redeemer; and we should
faithfully use it, as we should every other talent intrusted to us,
for the promotion of his cause. Let us them, for the sake of
our usefulness, and for the credit of our holy calling, be solicitous,
by all proper means, to preserve and increase our reputation.
For this purpose, let us be good men, and good ministers of
Christ; full of faith and good works. In the exercise of Chris
tian discretion, let us scrupulously avoid not only what is posi
tively sinful, but what is of a doubtful character. Be vigilao.t
and faithful, brethren, and you may quietly trust your character
with God, who will hide you in the Secret of his pavilion from the
strife of tongues. Never return railing for railing, or evil-speak-
ing for evil-speaking, but contrariwise blessing. Look unto
Jesus, who endured the contradiction of sinners, and copy his
meekness, love, and forgiveness. And if, amid the agitation of
this changing World, your reputation is sometimes obscured by a
few dark clouds; those clouds will pass away. Even in this life,
the righteous providence of God will generally bring to light the
integrity of his ministers. And the all-revealing day is at hand,
when the voice you will hear, will not be the voice of reproach
from your enemies, nor of complaint from misjudging friends; but
the voice of your merciful Saviour and Judge, who, will say to
37°
4.38 IMP O R. T. A N C E O F
you, Well done, good and faithful servant, enter thou into the joy of
your Lord. And there, in that holy, happy kingdom, which no
minister can ever deserve, you will forget the reproaches and
sufferings of your earthly state, and be crowned with glory, honor,
and immortality.
My BELOVED BROTHER, THE PASTOR ELECT,
The circumstances of the present occasion, are peculiarly in-
teresting to my feelings; and I am sure they must be so to
yours. It is now three years since it became my duty, as a
committee of the American Temperance Society, to announce to
you your appointment as general Agent of that Society, and by
various considerations to persuade you to undertake the arduous
work of pleading the cause of Temperance before the American
public. That you might be at liberty to do this, it was found
necessary that you should resign the charge of a very beloved
church and society. We know in some measure what a sacrifice
you made, when, from a regard to the good of the community,
you gave up the pastoral care of your flock. And it affords
me pleasure to recal to mind the regard to the public welfare,
which your people evinced, when they consented to part with a
minister, who had so successfully labored for their good, and who
in so high a degree enjoyed their love and confidence. —During
these three years, it has been my happiness, so far as my other
duties would permit, to be associated with you in consultation
and in effort, for the suppression of a far-spread and destructive
vice, and the promotion of a great public virtue. The benevo-
lent enterprise, in which you and others have been engaged, has
been prospered far beyond our most sanguine hopes. Let this
be wholly to the praise of God, from whom come all good designs,
and all good endeavors, and all success. And let it be a com—
fort to your heart, that God has made you an instrument of so
much good to your fellow-men, and that this good has been ac-
complished in So short a time, and that you are so soon permitted
to return to the office whiêh you love above every other.
And as you have now closed the agency which you undertook,
A MINISTER’s REPUTATION. 439
suffer me, my brother, not only for myself, but in behalf of the
American Temperance Society and its Executive Committee,
in behalf of the community at large, and in behalf of the
thousands who have been benefitted by your labors, sincerely to
thank you for your faithful services. These services, I well
know, have cost you many a sacrifice, many a season of ex-
haustion, and weeping, and agony of heart. But you have en-
joyed that, which is among the best pleasures ever enjoyed on
earth, the pleasure of laboring successfully in a great and good
cause. Amidst your exhausting labors and your various ex-
posures, your life and health have been the care of a watchful
providence. And while you have been making a fearless and
uncompromising attack upon the favorite indulgences and deep-
rooted habits and prejudices of men in every rank of life, your
character has been safe. And you are now receiving the most
pleasing proofs of the gratitude and confidence of an enlightened
public. Through the kindness of God, you are called to resume
the pastoral office with most encouraging prospects of usefulness.
I rejoice, my dear brother, that after the efforts, so wearisome to
body and mind, which you have made to help forward the Tem-
perance Reformation, you are now to resume the pastoral office
with very encouraging prospects; to settle here in this united
church and Society, so near to your former charge, and in the
midst of your beloved brethren and friends. The Lord command
his blessing upon you, and upon your household; and for many
happy years, give you the privilege of feeding this beloved church
and society with the bread of life, and of beholding in this place,
and all around you, the growing prosperity of Christ's kingdom.
And when you shall have finished the work which God has given
you to do, may you be a partaker of the glory that shall be re-
vealed. Amen. -
A S E R M 0 N
DELIVERED AT THE INSTALLATION OF THE REW. THOMAS MATHER SMITH,
- CATSKILL, N. Y., JUNE 15, 1831.
I Cor. 3: 7.—So TEEN NEITHER IS HE THAT PLANTETH ANYTHING, NEITHER
IIE THAT WATERETH; BUT GOD THAT GIVETH THE INCREASE.
As the agency of God in the concerns of his spiritual kingdom
is so inexpressibly important, and is made so prominent in the
instructions of his word; why are we so prone to overlook it?
IIow comes it to pass that we make so low an estimate of the
agency of God, while we assign so high a place to the agency of
man 7
This, I think, may be accounted for in part by the fact, that
man's agency is visible, while God's agency is invisible. When
a Christian minister is laboring to make known divine truth and
bring sinners to repentance, the agent and the agency are both
objects of our senses. But God is invisible; and so is the agency
he exerts. The effects of his agency come under our observation;
but the agency itself lies wholly concealed from our view. When
God accomplishes the most conspicuous work, his hand is unseen,
and all we can behold is the work accomplished. This circum-
stance, which weighs much by itself, has an increased influence,
by being connected with another, namely, that in the very in-
THE SUCCESS OF MINISTERS DEPENDS ON GOD. 441
stances in which the invisible agency of God is specially employed,
there is, for the most part a visible human agency. In such cases,
how natural it is for us, creatures of Sense as we are, to fix Our
eye chiefly upon the dependent, feeble agency of man, because
it is visible; while the Supreme and almighty agency of God,
concerned in the same event, is comparatively unnoticed, because
it is invisible. -
I might mention it as an additional circumstance, which helps
to account for the oversight above mentioned, that the manner of
the divine agency is so different from ours. A great difference
we could not but expect to find here, considering that the at-
tributes of God are infinitely superior to ours; and that his agency
is independent and almighty, while the highest agency which we
can exert, is very circumscribed and wholly dependent. But is
it not a general fact, that this very perfection of the divine agency
turns off our attention from it? Because God has a direct and per-
fect access to the minds of men, and influences all their thoughts,
dispositions and affections according to his own pleasure, and thus
makes it manifest that his ways are not our ways, and that no one
can be likened to him; we are therefore prone to disregard his
agency altogether. We deny the operation of his power for the
very reason which should lead us most devoutly to acknowledge
it; namely, because it is infinitely superior to ours.
But there is still another reason for the mistake I have men-
tioned, that is, the pride of the heart. This naturally inclines us
to make too much of our own agency, and to say, my hand hath
done this. Just so far as we are lifted up with pride and vanity,
we shall be disposed to overrate our own influence, and to with-
hold from God the glory which is due to him for the agency be
exerts in the souls of the redeemed. He who would entertain
right views on this subject, must mortify all pride and loftiness
of heart, and cherish the spirit of humility and self-abasement.
Such a spirit would prepare us to honor God, as the supreme
cause of all good, and to say with our Apostle, “neither is he that
planteth anything, nor he that watereth; but God who giveth the
increase.”
#42 THE SUCCESS OF MINISTERS
But my principal object on this occasion is to show, that the
doctrine of divine influence, as held forth in the teat, presents the
only adequote encouragement to the servants of Christ, to labor for
the conversion of sinners and the prosperity of the Church.
To convert sinners, to give success to the gospel and prosperity
to the church, is a work of immense magnitude and difficulty, and
far transcends the power of man. The heart of every human
being is inclined to sin; deceitful above all things, and desperate-
ly wicked. This is the case even with those who are furthest
removed from the contagion of vicious example, and least prac-
tised in the ways of sin.
But in addition to this general difficulty, there are various other
hinderances in the way. The unrenewed not only have hearts
which are naturally selfish, and alienated from God; but they are
fortified against the motives to repentance by the evil customs of
the world, and by the influence of invisible and malignant spirits.
And when you look upon men in heathen countries, you find the
case still more difficult. For their hearts are shielded against
divine truth and hardened in sin, by the forms of Superstition and
idolatry; by despotic and persecuting governments; by the power
of ignorance, and the power of caste. Satan appears to have
availed himself of all the principles of our nature, even of con-
science, in order to rivet the chains with which he has bound the
souls of men, and to hinder them from casting off the miserable
bondage of sin.
Now what can we expect from those who are possessed of such
a character and placed in such circumstances? Have they any
seeds of goodness within them, which may, by human culture, be
made to bring forth fruit unto holiness : Is there any ground to
hope, that good will ever spring from a will totally enslaved to sin,
or a moral agency altogether misguided and perverted? Both the
word of God and the history of past ages teach, that holiness can
never result from any power, disposition or effort of unrenewed
Iſleſ). - -
And in regard to the conversion of sinners, what reliance can
we place upon ourselves, as ministers of the gospel ? What are
D EP E N D S O N G O D . 443
we, that we should think ourselves sufficient for such a work?
Had we the knowledge and energy of Paul, the eloquence of
Apollos, the Sublimity of Isaiah, and the ardor and boldness of
Elijah ; still what could we effect 7 We could not bring one sin-
ner to repentance ; we could not convert a single child. Ministers
and Christians may exert all their power to make known divine
truth and induce sinners to obey the gospel; but if left to them-
selves they will look around them, and with Sorrow say, “Who
hath believed our report 2
It must then be evident, that if we had nothing to rely upon
but our own qualifications and efforts, or the dispositions of natural
men, we should be in a state of utter despondency. Looking
merely at ourselves, and at unrenewed sinners, we could have no
resolution to pursue our work, because we could have no prospect
of success. -
Here we are met by the animating doctrine of our text, that
the conversion of sinners is accomplished by the power of God.
This is the very doctrine we need. It raises us at once above
discouragement. For now we become allied to a power which
makes success certain. Yes, brethren, if we have faith in God,
we shall take hold on his infinite strength. And then, as to all
the purposes of encouragement and success, it will be as though
we ourselves were almighty. For it is surely as well, that the
omnipotence which is to accomplish the work should reside in God,
as in us. Now if we had infinite power, so that we could change
the hearts of sinners just when we pleased, and could cause the
gospel to spread and the church to flourish just as far as we saw
to be best ; surely we could not feel any discouragement. For
who ever felt any discouragement in regard to a work, for which
he believed himself fully qualified, and which he knew he could
accomplish whenever he pleased ? Behold, then, that infinite
power which is engaged in the work of Saving sinners. True,
the power is God’s. But who can think it on that account any
the less adequate to the object 7 The power does indeed belong
to God. But we are to act in connection with it; and it will
avail to our success, just so far as infinite wisdom sees to be best,
444 TEIE SUCCESS OF MINISTERS
At a certain time, the disciples were in a ship in a violent storm.
And what power had they to preserve themselves from the des-
truction which threatened them 7 Who of them could say to the
winds and waves, peace, be still? Thinking only of themselves,
they had then good reason to be filled with fear. But there was
one in the ship, whom the winds and the waves obeyed. He
therefore rebuked them for being of a fearful heart, because it
showed their want of confidence in him. With such a friend, near
them, they were as safe, and they had as much reason to feel that
they were safe, as if they themselves had been able to control
the winds and the waves. – Brethren, the cause of God is safe ;
the prospect of the conversion of sinners and the enlargement of
the church is certain. Omnipotence is engaged in the work, and
we act in alliance with it; so that our weakness, instead of hin-
dering the success of the gospel, will only prove the occasion of
making the power of God more conspicuous. Weak and insuffi-
ficient as we are, we are employed in this work; and we are
employed for this very purpose, that the eveellency of the power
may be of God, and not of us.
Should we forget the power of God, and look only to ourselves;
and then consider what a work is to be done for a single congre-
gation or a single person, especially for a world lying in wicked-
ness; we should be overwhelmed with a sense of insufficiency.
But here we learn, that our insufficiency is no obstacle to the sal-
vation of sinners; that they are to be converted by a power which
resides in God, not in us; that, while he is pleased to appoint us
as agents in this work, and even to make our faithful labors ne-
cessary to the Salvation of men; the work itself is his; and his
the power which accomplishes it.
However disheartening the circumstances in which we may be
called to labor for the salvation of men, the doctrine of the text
is suited to sustain and animate us. Suppose we should be placed
where but few would coöperate with us and help forward the
conversion of sinners. Suppose we should be called to a region
where the whole multitude around us are enemies to the cross of
Christ, and we were obliged to labor and pray alone. O ! What
ID EP E N D S O N G O D. 445
despondency would these circumstances tend to produce But
our doctrine would afford a remedy. Only let our minds be im
pressed with the truth, that the power of God insures success, and
that he who is with us is greater than all who are against us;
and there would be no place left for despondency. An almighty
and merciful Being, invisible indeed, but well known to us, would
bid us go forward in our work, promising to be with us, and to
give the increase, whether the laborers are many or few. In
such a case the feeling of our Solitariness and weakness would
only lead us to trust in God alone; and such trust would cheer
and animate our hearts. - --
Or suppose that we have labored for years and offered up many
prayers for the conversion of sinners around us, but apparently
with little or no success. How can we prevent the tendency of
these circumstances to overcome our resolution and paralyze our
efforts? Our text supplies an answer. We must consider that
the success of our labors depends ultimately on God. He giveth
the increase; and he giveth it when it seemeth good in his sight.
And he giveth it at such a time, and in such a manner, as will
make his power and grace most visible. He may suffer us to
labor for a longer or shorter time without success, for the very
purpose of making us feel our dependence on him, so that we
may give him the glory that is due to him as the God of salva-
tion. When he has humbled us and made us sensible that we
are nothing, and that he is all in all, and when the time to favor
Zion has come, he will give the increase. These views are suited
to inspire unfailing resolution, and to rouse us to be diligent in
business, and to abound in the work of the Lord.
Our doctrine is adapted to excite hope in regard to those who
are the most hardened in sin. Be it so that we have often en-
treated them with tears, and often prayed for their salvation,
while no effect has appeared but a growing insensibility to the
obligations of religion. Are we to despair of ultimate success : It
is indeed true, that if any of the human race —if even those
who are the least contaminated with vice, and who possess the
most attractive amiableness of disposition, are ever born again; it
. WOL. W. 38
446 THE SU C C E S S OF MINISTERS
will be by no power of ours, but by the power of God. Why
then should any, even the chief of sinners be despaired of? If
God is pleased to send forth his new creating Spirit into the hearts
of those, whom you may be ready to look upon as lost beyond
recovery; what a surprising change will you soon behold ! Our
doctrine authorizes us to cherish the hope that such a blessed
change will take place in the most hardened, sinners, and to antici-
pate the joy we shall experience, when it actually takes place.
How powerfully animating the influence of such a hope
The doctrine of the text is obviously suited to exert a powerful
and happy influence in regard to the cause of Missions. Here
especially it is true, that mere human power can do nothing.
Without the help of God, the whole body of Christians can make
no advance towards bringing the heathem to the Saving knowledge
of Christ. Ten thousand obstacles stand in the way of their sal-
vation, and will mock our highest efforts; and the certain, inevit-
able course of things will be, that crimes and miseries will continue
and increase among them down to the end of time, unless the
Lord of heaven and earth exert his omnipotence, and create all
things new. Thus, in regard to the whole extent of the work to
be accomplished for the conversion of the pagan world, we are
driven away from all dependence on man. Human resources
utterly fail. And unless we look to the power and wisdom and
mercy of God, we can have no prospect of the world’s salvation.
Let us then put our trust in God. He can send forth such light
and truth, and such an influence of his Spirit, that nations shall be
born in a day, and every knee bow at the name of Jesus. All
things are possible with God, and all things are easy too. If he
only speak the word, the gospel will have free course and be glo-
rified in all the earth. Shall we then be disheartened, because
our power is not adequate to the work of Saving the world? Just
as well might we be disheartened in regard to the daily rising of
the Sun and the motion of the planets, because they are things
beyond our power. Consider the precious promises of God con-
cerning the Salvation of sinners. Consider the perfect ease with
which he can accomplish these promises, and the certainty that he
D E PEN ID S O N G O D . 447
will accomplish them. Then consider what part he has assigned
to us in this work of benevolence; that although all power belongs
to him, he has required us, or rather, has granted us the privilege
to plant and water, at the same time assuring us that he will give
the increase. e
What more can we ask? Every other motive is weak and
inefficacious compared with this. Yea, without this, every other
view of the subject would leave us in a state of discouragement.
There is nothing in us or in others; there is nothing in the natural
tendencies of the human mind, in the state of society, or in the
influence of civil or religious institutions, nothing in the lessons
of wisdom taught by the experience of ages; there is nothing
even in the exhibition which the Scriptures make of the mercies
and the terrors of the Lord, which, separate from the influence
of the Spirit, could furnish the least reason to expect, that any ‘
nation, or any individual would ever submit to the reign of Christ.
We are then brought to the sovereign power and mercy of God,
as the only ground of hope, the only cause of success. Here is a
power that can encourage and sustain our efforts— a power that
can renew sinners, and bring the world to obey the gospel, and
can do it by means of our feeble services.
That the doctrine of the text possesses the influence which I
have ascribed to it, has been confirmed by long experience. This
doctrine has actually excited the servants of Christ, amid all sorts
of difficultics and discouragements, to labor perseveringly for the
conversion of sinners. Paul believed that neither he that planteth,
nor he that watereth is anything. And whenever he did what
turned to account in the cause of his Lord, he entirely disclaimed
the credit of it, saying, “not I, but the grace of Christ that was
with me.” Dut this view of his dependence on God both for his
faithfulness and his success, was accompanied with a resolution,
diligence, and perseverance, which nothing could overcome. If at
any time the servants of Christ forget their dependence and
weakness; if they lose sight of that divine agency which renews
the heart, and begin to think themselves able, by forcible argu-
ment, or by persuasive eloquence, to bring sinners to repentance ;
448 THE SU C C E S S OF MIN IS T E R S
it is then they are likely to grow remiss. But let those who are
laboring to turn sinners to God, have faith in him, and keep their
eye steadily fixed on his power, as the only cause of success; and
they will have a diligence and zeal, which will not only rise high,
but endure to the elid. New hope and new ardor will be kindled
up within them ; and they will abound in the work of the Lord,
knowing that their labor shall not be in vain in the Lord. Thus,
while all who rely on human power shall faint and be weary, they
who wait upon the Lord, shall renew their strength; shall mount
up with wings as eagles; shall run and not be weary, and walk
and not faint. g
It is a fair inference from what has been said, that the best
preparation which can be made on our part for the work of divine
grace in the conversion of Simmers, is to become duly sensible, that
we are nothing, and that God is all in all. He who is duly sen-
sible of his insufficiency and his dependence on God, is all alive
to the interests of religion. He knows that sinners, whether old or
young, are utterly ruined. This view of their depravity and
wretchedness moves the pity of his heart. He longs for their
Salvation. His soul is all on fire to see the glory of God dis-
played in the conversion of the multitudes who are ready to
perish. But with all his love and zeal, and all his fervent prayer
for the salvation of those who are lost, he knows and feels, that
not one of them will ever be converted without special divine
influence; that all his labor will accomplish nothing, unless it
please God to interpose, and Save sinners by the washing of
regeneration and renewing of the Holy Ghost. Thus, while all
his faculties are wakefully employed in the work which God has
assigned to him, he is sensible that nothing can be done, unless
God is pleased to send forth his renewing Spirit. He there-
fore refers it all to God’s sovereign will, and fixes the eye
of faith and hope on him, who hath mercy on whom he will have
"mercy.
This state of mind is highly important as a preparation for a
revival of religion, because it fits us to perform the very work
assigned to us. When we are in the state of mind here intended,
DEPEND S ON G O D., 449
we shall be most likely to discern clearly whal, our province is, and
what are the particular duties which we are required to perform.
All our faculties will be strongly excited, and ready for action;
while our trust in God will bring us into a union with his infinite
power, and so will prepare us for efforts to which our own unaided
power would be wholly inadequate.
And while this state of mind will prepare us to perform the
very work which God has marked out for us, it will have an impor
tant influence in preventing us from undertaking any other. If
we entertain the thought that we are called to convert and can
convert men by our own independent efforts, we shall be liable to
adopt methods which are incompatible with the word of God. Is
it not a fact, that those who have, in any period of the church,
endeavored to convert men by means which they have invented,
and which Christ and the apostles never used, have shown an
undue confidence in themselves, and a want of reliance on the
Spirit of God 2 If we are fully persuaded, that our success
depends on the influence of the Spirit; we can have no motive to
adopt any measures for the conversion of sinners, except those
which manifestly accord with the dictates of the Spirit in the Holy
Scriptures. Our single object will be to do the will of God as
expressed in his word, and so to secure his blessing upon our
labors. This makes our work plain and simple. It keeps our eye
fixed upon a standard of action which is perfect and immu-
table, and so guards us against the restlessness of those who,
instead of humbly looking for success to the blessing of God upon
the faithful preaching of his word, are continually looking to some
new and unauthorized measures. It makes us content to copy the
example of the apostles, who used the weapons which God had
furnished, and those only; who preached his truth in his way, and
relied upon him to give their preaching effect.
Finally; the preparation which I have insisted upon is of great
importance, because it guards us against feelings of self-compla-
cency, and disposes us to give to God all the glory of man’s
salvation ? Can we expect that God will work by means of our
efforts, when he sees that we are inclined to arrogate to ourselves
38*
450 T EIE SU C C E S S OF MINISTER, S
the honor which belongs to him 7 Pride of heart is a mighty
hinderance to the work of God’s grace. When this hinderance is
removed, and God sees us humble and self-abased, and yet ready
to do our part faithfully; then we may expect that he will revive
his work. -
Among our various endeavors, then, to prepare ourselves for the
work of converting sinners and building up the church, this would
seem to be of special importance, namely, that we take care of our
own hearts, and see to it that we are rid of that pride and self-
dependence, which is so exceedingly hateful in the sight of God,
and that we have that lowly mind, and that reliance on his grace,
which he regards as of great price. And if some of the exertions
we make for more showy acquisitions, were made for the particular
purpose of subduing all conceit of our own power, and cherishing .
deep humility and child-like dependence on God ; should we not
be likely to accomplish more for the Salvation of sinners and the
spread of the gospel ? Only twelve men, and those too of mode.
rate qualifications in a worldly view, were employed as apostles,
to establish Christianity, and to propagate it through the nations.
Is it not sometimes the case, that too much human agency is
employed in our attempts to promote a revival of religion ? Does
not God very plainly teach us, both by his word and providence, that
he sets a much higher value upon the kind of agency we employ,
than upon its quantity ?
And you, my dear son, can add your testimony to the truth of
the sentiment contained in my text. Your own experience, during
the short period of your ministry, has been sufficient to teach you
thoroughly, what the Bible had taught you before, that a minister
owes his success entirely to God. While laboring among the
affectionate and beloved people whom you have lately left, you
have at different times enjoyed the happiness of beholding sinners
pressing into the kingdom of heaven, and large numbers added
to the church. And on every conversion you have seen it writ-
ten as with a sum-beam — the work of God! And when, in
sovereign wisdom and righteousness, God has withheld the influ-
ence of his Spirit; you have found that no efforts of yours could
D EP E N D S O N G O D . 451
avail anything; that in despite of the terrors of divine wrath, and
the melting persuasions of divine mercy, sinners would neglect the
great Salvation. You have learnt by experience that men must be
born again, and born of God. There is no other way for sinners
to become heirs of heaven. For us to suppose that we can find
out a new way, is all delusion. The human heart is essentially
the same in all ages; and the power which renews it is the same ;
and that power is not the power of reason, nor the power of self-
love, nor the power of human persuasion; but the mighty power
of God; the power which raised Christ from the dead; the
power which created the world. Remember this, my dear son, in
the encouraging and delightful circumstances in which you are
here called to labor. If any in this place have an ear to hear the
messages of divine mercy; it is because God has given them an
ear. If they have a heart to love the truth; it is because God
has given them such a heart. If you overlook this truth; if
while the work of conversion and sanctification is prospering, you
and your people forget that it is God’s work; he will withhold the
tokens of his favor. No rain or dew will descend from heaven ;
and you will Soon behold this garden of God, now beginning to
cluster with the fruits of the Spirit, left to blasting and barren-
ness. Remember then, that salvation is of God. And begin and
end the labors of your ministry here, with a deep feeling of the
blessed truth, that neither he that planteth is anything, nor he that
watereth; but God that giveth the increase.
A S E R M 0 N
DELIVERED IN THE CHAPEL OF THE THEOL. SEMINARY, ANDOVER, APRIL 8, 1840.
John 15:5.—WITHOUT ME YE CAN Do NoTHING.
THESE words were first addressed to the apostles. But it is as
true of all believers, as it was of the apostles, that they can do
nothing spiritually good without Christ; that in regard to all
holiness, whether in heart or in life, they are entirely dependent
On him.
Dependence, in a general view, is the condition of all created
beings. Their existence, their powers of action, and their means
of happiness are all from God. In him they live, and move, and
have their being. This condition of dependence belongs to angels
in heaven, as well as to men on earth. They owe it to the will
and agency of God, that they were created and are continued in
a state of moral purity. And they will be indebted to him for
their holiness and happiness in all future ages, as much as they
were at the beginning of their existence. They will doubtless
remain holy, and will grow in the strength of their intellectual and
moral faculties and their spiritual affections forever. But the
growing strength of their faculties and their affections will be from
God. And the higher their improvement in knowledge and in
holiness, just so much the more will they be indebted to the
goodness of God. It is the unalterable, happy condition of the
heavenly hosts, to have a growing fulness of spiritual good, and
to receive it all from God.
TIII; D EP E N D E N C E OF CIIP ISTIAN S. 453
But Christians are dependent not only in the general sense in
which the angels are dependent, but in a peculiar sense, a sense
appropriate to them as redeemed sinners. In their natural state
they are children of wrath, desperately wicked. And their re-
newal to holiness is owing to the Spirit of God. It is by the grace
of God they are what they are. And without the continuance
of that grace, they would sink at Once into a state of pollution,
guilt and wretchedness. So that it is true in the highest sense,
that without Christ they can do nothing.
I propose to show, that the doctrine of our dependence on divine
aid is taught by reason, Scripture, and eagerience; and that it is a
doctrine in the highest degree honorable to God, and useful to
7?? (17?).
In the first place, this doctrine is taught by reason. If there
is anything which reason makes known with absolute certainty, it
is, that all excellence and happiness in created beings is derived,
not self-originated; that we are as much indebted to God for the
commencement and continuance of a virtuous character, as for the
commencement and continuance of our being. True virtue is far
more excellent, than mere existence. And it would be very un-
reasonable to suppose, that we are dependent on God for that
which is less excellent and yet not dependent for that which is
more excellent. Certainly it would not be more contrary to reason
and truth to think, that created beings originated their own exis-
tence, than that Christians of themselves originated their own
holiness. And this becomes specially evident, when it is consid—
ered how many things there were without them and within them,
which stood in opposition to holiness, and which it was necessary
should be removed before they could be the subjects of it.
In the second place, the doctrine under consideration is plainly
taught by the inspired writers. This is my chief argument.
Those who spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost, cannot
mislead us. Let us then carefully consider the various ways in
which the sacred writers teach us our weakness and insufficiency,
and our dependence for spiritual good on divine grace.
Here we find that the beginning of holiness in the human heart
454. THE DEPENDENCE OF CHRISTIANS.
is familiarly represented as the work of God. “Being born again,
not of blood, nor of the will of the flesh, nor of the will of man,
but of God.” This passage excludes all conceivable causes of re-
generation, but one, that is, God. The Sacred writers tell us that
a saving change comes from above; that believers are renewed by
the Holy Ghost. /
The continuance of holiness is ascribed to the same cause. It
is God who worketh in believers both to will and to do. They
have spiritual life, because the Spirit of God dwells in them. The
same God who began the good work in them, will perform it until
the day of Christ. The God of peace will make them perfect in
every good work, to do his will, working in them that which is
well pleasing in his sight. t
Further; the Scriptures teach that Christians are dependent
on divine grace not only for holiness in a general sense, but for all
the particular forms and branches of it. Thus if we refer to re-
pentance as an important branch of holiness; we find that Christ
is exalted to give repentance. If we refer to the faith of Chris-
tians; we find it is God who worketh in them the work of faith
with power. And love, which is the principal virtue of believers,
is shed abroad in their hearts by the Holy Ghost. And as to the
duty of prayer, we are taught that Christians know not how to
pray aright, and that the Holy Spirit helpeth their infirmities,
and maketh intercession for them. And in regard to the saving
knowledge of divine things; we find that they who have it are
taught of God; that the natural man does not know and cannot
know the things of the Spirit; and that it is God that causes the
light to shine in the heart. The same is true of obedience. It
is God who writes his law in the hearts of his people, and inclines
them to obey. It is God that gives his people patience and
firmness under trials and sufferings. Indeed the whole range of
Christian virtues are the fruits of the Spirit.
The prophets and apostles teach the same truth in still another
way. They expressly disclaim all spiritual strength and sufficien-
cy of their own, and confide in divine strength. See how clearly
their language shows the dependent posture of their minds. “Not
THE DEP EN DEN C E O F C EIRISTIAN S. 455
that we are sufficient of ourselves to think anything as of our-
selves; but our sufficiency is of God.” “The Lord is my
strength.” “God is the strength of my heart.” The Apostle
Paul does indeed say, “I can do all things.” But he at the
same time shows his dependence. “I can do all things through
Christ who strengtheneth me.” •
But there is nothing which shows the feelings of good men in
regard to their dependence so clearly, as their prayers. When
they come to the throne of grace, their delusions vanish, and they
have to do with realities. How then were prophets and apostles
accustomed to pray : What thoughts and desires did they
cherish, and what requests did they make 7 “Quicken us, and
we will call upon thy name.” “I will run the way of thy
commandments, when thou shalt enlarge my heart.” “Incline
my heart unto thy testimonies.” Such were the prayers of the
saints under the Old Testament dispensation. And they were
the same under the New Dispensation. The disciples came to
Jesus, and said, “Lord, increase our faith.” And Paul said to
believers: “The Tord make you to abound in love.” Again.
“Now our Lord Jesus Christ and God even our Father, — stab-
lish you in every good word and work.” And again. “The
God of all grace — make you perfect, stablish, strengthen, settle
you.”
Such prayers, offered up by the Saints under both dispensa-
tions, imply a constant sense of their dependence on God for all
spiritual good, and an earnest desire that he would bestow it upon
them. Prayer to God for what we have, or for what we think
we may have of ourselves, would be a mockery. Why should we
go to God, and ask him to make us obedient and holy, while we
say or think, that we are of ourselves sufficient for the work of
obedience and holiness without his aid 7 e
The texts above referred to, and many others of the same im-
port, teach our entire dependence on God for spiritual good very
clearly and impressively. They set it forth in a great variety of
ways; so that, if there is any room for doubt as to the meaning
of this or that text, the doubt may be removed by other texts
456 THE DEPEN DEN C E OF C EIRISTIAN S.
relating to the same subject. This furthermore is not a subject
which the inspired writers keep in the back ground, or which they
touch upon lightly and incidentally, and to which they attach but
little consequence. On the contrary, they make the subject very
prominent. And finally, they never treat the doctrine of our
dependence as though there was any danger of carrying it too
far, or making it too important, or as though there was any dam-
ger of its interfering with any other principle of religion. They
say unhesitatingly and without qualification, that believers are
born of God; that he renews men, and gives them repentance.
They do not say, as a matter of concession, that God must be al-
lowed to have some influence in this work. But they say de-
cidedly, that God does it. And when they pray that God would
work in them all the good pleasure of his goodness and the work
of faith with power; they do not pray that he would do all this
by merely presenting motives before them, leaving it to their free
will to comply or not. They do not say to God, we beseech thee
by thy Spirit to make us obedient and holy, though we are con-
scious that we are perfectly able to be obedient and holy without
thy Spirit. They do not say, we beseech thee, O Lord, strengthen
us for duty, though we know that we have in ourselves all the
strength we need without thee. They do indeed speak familiarly
of their own right agency. But they speak of it as the effect of
divine influence. “Quicken me, and I will keep thy word.”
“Work out your salvation, — for it is God that worketh in you
to will and to do.” — In the view of the sacred writers, holy
action in us, flows from the divine operation. It is the fruit of
the Spirit.
And thirdly, the same doctrine is taught and confirmed by the
experience of good men. It is one of the first lessons which they
learn in the school of Christ, that they are in themselves destitute
of spiritual good; that they have no sufficiency for the per-
formance of duty, except what they derive from divine grace;
that their help is in God. This sense of dependence is essential
to the character of Christians. If Christians have at any time
trusted their own heart, and attempted to do the work and enjoy
T H E D EP EN D E N C E O F C H R IS TI A N S . 457
the comforts of religion, without Christ; how quickly have they
fallen into a state of darkness and desolation It must be the
full persuasion of all consistent Christians, that if they should be
separated from Christ, and should receive no further communica-
tions of spiritual strength from him, they would assuredly depart
from the way of holiness, and draw back to perdition. Whatever
powers of mind they may possess— and they doubtless have
all the powers and faculties which are necessary to moral, ac-
countable agents—they have no power that will preserve them
from apostasy, and enable them to be faithful unto death, unless
the all-sufficient grace of Christ is with them However they
may speculate about their sufficient ability for all their duty, the
moment they feel and pray as Christians, their speculations
vanish, and they heartily acknowledge their utter impotence and
insufficiency, and their need of divine help. Their own expe-
rience teaches them more and more effectually, that they are in
want of all things, and that they depend for a supply upon him
in whom all fulness dwells.
I am now, in the fourth place, to show, that the doctrine under
consideration is honorable to God. We honor God, when we be-
lieve and declare the general truth, that every good gift cometh
down from him. But it is a truth of special importance, that
God, by his Spirit, renews the depraved heart, and that he works
in believers all that is pure and excellent. When we cordially
receive this truth, and openly declare it, we honor the character
of God. Did not Paul honor God, when he said, “by the
grace of God I am what I am ;” and when, after speaking of
his many labors, he disclaimed the credit of them, and said,
“not I, but the grace of God that was with me?” Did he not
honor his Saviour when he set him forth as our wisdom, our
righteousness, our Sanctification, and our redemption ? And do
not all Christians honor him, by ascribing to him the beginning
and end of their salvation ? This they do even now, although
they have so imperfect a knowledge of their own poverty and
misery, and of their indebtedness to his grace. How much more
highly will they honor him, when they come to understand the
WOL. V. 39
453 T EIF D EP E N D E N C E OF C EIRIST . A N S.
whole value of the blessings which they have received from the
riches of his mercy. In the world to come, how clear and strong
will be their conviction, that their holiness and blessedness were
his free gift And how joyfully will they unite in that song of
praise: “Unto him that loved us, and washed us from our sins
In his own blood, and made us kings and priests unto God, -—
unto him be glory and dominion forever and ever.”
I am, in the fifth place, to illustrate the beneficial influence of
the doctrine of our entire dependence on Christ.
The doctrine is evidently true. And is not the truth, especially
such a truth as this, profitable to those who cordially receive it 2
What could have had a more happy influence upon the apostles,
than the instruction which Jesus gave them on the subject now
before us. “As the branch cannot bear fruit of itself, except it
abide in the vine, no more can ye, except ye abide in me. I am
the vine, ye are the branches. He that abideth in me and I in
him, the same bringeth forth much fruit, for without me ye can
do nothing.” Was it not of great importance to them to be
taught so plainly by their blessed Lord, then just about to die for
them, what their real condition was, and that their growth and
fruitfulness, their safety and their spiritual life depended on con-
stant communications from him : .
The doctrine is specially adapted to produce humility. One of
the greatest faults to which we are liable, and which is most likely
to retain its hold upon us, is pride or loftiness of heart. And the
spirit of pride is the spirit of self-sufficiency of self-depen-
dence, than which nothing can be more contrary to the nature of
the Christian religion. Now the doctrine of our dependence, as
taught in the text, is aimed directly against pride and Self-suffi-
ciency. For, according to this doctrine, what have we to be proud
of, but our guilt, our poverty, and wretchedness? We may think
we are rich, and have need of nothing. But if we truly receive
the doctrine of the text, — if we are made to know and to feel,
that we are in ourselves, wretched and miserable and poor and
lind and naked, and that we must be so forever, unless we are
delivered from our wretchedness, and our wants are supplied by
T EII; D EP E N D B N C E O F C H R IS TI A N S. 459
our Almighty Saviour; –if we cordially believe and feel that he
must work all our works for us, and that we must go forth to duty
in his strength; it must have a powerful tendency to subdue the
pride of our hearts. If this does not humble us, nothing can.
It was the sentiment of the Stoics, that we are dependent on God
for all good, except our virtue / How impious the pride and self-
Conceit, which dictated such a sentiment And how much of
this stoical spirit commonly remains in the hearts of Christians'
The Apostle Paul was aware of this; and he set himself against it,
and took pains to eradicate it from the minds of believers, by incul
cating the doctrine of our entire dependence on the grace of Christ
“Who maketh thee to differ 7” he said to the believer: “ and
what hast thou which thou hast not received 7” He then makes
use of the truth implied in his questions, to bring down the pride
of the heart. With reference to that holiness which distinguishes
Christians from others, he says: —“Now if thou hast received
it, why dost thou glory as if thou hadst not received it 7” The
sacred writers hold a doctrine exceedingly different from the sto
ical conceit, that we are dependent on God for everything, eaccept
our virtue. They teach that we are dependent on God for every
blessing, and most of all for our virtue ; – that all good comes
from God, especially that which is more excellent than any other
good we possess, – our holiness; and so they leave us no ground
of glorying, though our holiness should be superior to that of any
Saint on earth. How is it with the angels in heaven? They are
creatures of a very high rank; and they have a thousand fold
more knowledge and power and holiness, than any of us. And
if the gifts of God were a just reason for pride and loftiness of
heart, they might properly have a large measure of it. But those
exalted beings, shining forth in the splendors of celestial holiness,
and intrusted with concerns of such weight, as would crush us
to the earth in a moment — those exalted beings, so superior to
the wisest and the mightiest of men have no pride. They glory
not in themselves, but in their Lord, and cast their crowns at his
feet. They never forget that they receive all good from the
fountain of being and blessedness; and especially that it is God
460 THE DEPENDENCE OF CHRISTIANS.
who maketh them to differ from the apostate angels. It is per-
fectly known among them, that they are, and forever will be de-
pendent on God. They desire no other condition of their immor-
tal existence. In view of this their dependent state, they are as
much more humble than any Saint on earth, as they are more holy.
But the doctrine of their dependence on Christ is adapted not
only to humble his followers, but also to encourage them, and to
render them active in his service.
It might be supposed, that a constant conviction of our poverty
and weakness would dishearten us, and sink us to despondency.
And so it would if taken alone. Those who are wholly destitute,
and have none to depend upon for a supply of their wants — who
are insufficient for the work assigned to them, and without any
one to aid them in that work, must be discouraged. And this
would be the case with all Christians, had they not the blessed
privilege of relying on the grace of Christ. Our dependence on
Christ is truly an inestimable privilege. It must be so to all who
know his name and put their trust in him. How is it, I ask
again, with the angels in heaven, who are in all respects depen.
dent on God. Unquestionably they feel their dependence on such
a Being to be a most happy circumstance. It rejoices their hearts
to stand and gaze upon his perfect character, and to see him con-
tinually glorified by communicating a fulness of blessings through-
out his holy empire. And they are not only humble and happy
in their dependent condition, but they are exceedingly resolute
and active in their obedience. Whatever may be the magnitude
and difficulty of the work assigned to them, they are swift as
lightning to accomplish it; and they are never afraid of any fail-
ure, because God is their help, and their whole souls are pervaded
with his influence and strengthened with his strength.
The dependence of believers on Christ is, I repeat it, an inesti-
mable privilege and blessing. We are in ourselves without holiness
and without spiritual strength. Our dependence did not bring this
evil upon us; but the grace of Christ, on which we depend, de-
livers us from it. We have an almighty Saviour; and to him we
may look for help in every time of need. This encourages us to
TEIE D EP EN D E N C E O F C EIRISTIAN S. 461
undertake the most arduous duties, and inspires us with hope of
success. While we are constrained to say, that without Christ we
can do nothing, we are able to say also, that through Christ who
strengtheneth us, we can do all things. Had you yourself the
power of him by whom all things were made, you would surely be
ready to engage in the most difficult work. You would feel that
nothing could be above your strength. You could command every
valley to be exalted and every hill to be made low. Now the
power of Christ will avail you as much as if it were your own.
Yes, humble believers, it is a most comforting, inspiring truth,
that, if you trust in Christ, you are as well off, as though his im–
measurable power were all your own. What resolution does this
thought inspire | I will go in the strength of the Lord. Through
him I can overcome the world, and reach the heavenly Canaan.
I am conscious of my weakness and insufficiency; — but I rise
above it, — I even rejoice and glory, in it, that the power of Christ
may rest upon me. Such is the tendency of the doctrine of our
dependence. And its actual results are correspondent. The
noblest instances of courage and vigorous action which have ever
been known on earth, have been found in those who have been
most fully sensible of their own weakness, and have most cordially
trusted in the all-sufficient grace of Christ.
The doctrine of our dependence on Christ, is adapted to exert
a sanctifying influence. For, who can have a constant intercourse
and communion with a holy Saviour, without being assimilated to
him : Who can live near to that divine Friend and Redeemer,
and receive continually the most precious gifts from him, without
being powerfully drawn to imitate his spotless character ? Who
can daily look to him, and behold his glory, without being changed
into the same image 7. It must also be remembered, that the
spiritual influence which believers continually receive from their
blessed Lord, gives purity of heart; and that everything for which
they are dependent on him, and which comes to them from his
fulness implies sanctification. The strength he imparts to them,
is strength against sin — strength for holy action, and for a holy
endurance of affliction.
gº
39*
462 THE DEPEND EN C E OF CHRISTIANS.
Finally, the doctrine before us, conduces to the purest enjoy-
ment of Christians. It is inexpressibly delightful to their hearts
to enter into the deep spiritual meaning of the various passages
of holy writ which represent their relation to Christ and their en-
tire dependence upon him. Are not those the happiest hours of
your life in which you have the fullest conviction of your depend-
ence on Christ? When you can say from the heart: “His
grace is sufficient for me, and his strength is made perfect in
weakness;” and when you plainly See, that notwithstanding your
own inconstancy and unfaithfulness, your Souls are safe, resting,
as you do, on the rock of ages; — when you see and feel this, are
not the dark clouds, which at other times overshadow you, all
chased away, and are not your hearts filled with quietness and
peace :
Now if it is a plain truth, that we are in a state of complete
dependence on Christ, and can do nothing without him; then
why should we ever attempt it? Why should we try to do the
work of Christ in that way, in which Christ himself tells us that
we cannot do it 7 It is perfectly plain, that the branches can-
not bear fruit, except they abide in the vine. How absurd and
foolish then would it be, if we should entertain the thought, that
the branches have in themselves the principle of life and fruitful-
mess, and should go about to make them live and bear fruit, when
cut off from the vine ! - -
If, brethren, you entertain any opinion respecting the power
of man, which overlooks the doctrine of our entire dependence
on Christ; if you give place to the idea, that you have of your-
Selves an ability, to do anything spiritually good, without the help
of God's grace;—you are certainly off the line of divine truth.
You have departed from the standard of God’s word. Your in-
ward thought on the subject is not like that of the inspired
writers; your language is not like their language, and your feel-
ings are not like theirs.
This I lay down as a test of the truth or falsehood of any
opinion which may be maintained in regard to the subject in
THE DEPENDENCE OF CHRISTIANs. 463
hand. If the opinion is such as naturally works in with what the
sacred writers teach respecting our weakness and dependence; if
it leads us to feel as they felt, to speak as they spake, and to pray
as they prayed; then we have reason to believe the opinion is
right. But if the opinion does not harmonize with the obvious
teachings of the inspired writers; if it renders important parts
of the Bible unwelcome and strange to us, and if its real ten-
dency is to make us feel and speak differently from prophets
and apostles; then, however plausible the opinion may be, we are
sure it is untrue.
It is very clear, that we ought to endeavor to bear fruit and
that we ought actually to bear fruit; but not separate from
Christ. We should certainly attempt to do our duty. But we
should not attempt to do it, without Christ, because in this way,
we cannot do it. Such an attempt besides being unsuccessful,
would be sinful. As God has pointed out the way, and the only
way, in which we are to do the work that he has assigned to us;
it would certainly be offensive to him if we should neglect the
way which he has prescribed, and attempt to accomplish the work
in another way. Such an attempt would imply an ungrateful
disregard of divine goodness; a contempt of that everlasting
strength which is offered to us.
Such an attempt would betray a state of mind directly con-
trary to our prayers. If we pray as we ought, we acknowledge
our own impotence and insufficiency, and seek divine help.
Now to confide in our own sufficient power, and to attempt to do
the work assigned to us, without strength from above, is a virtual
contradiction to our prayers. It must then be either that we do
not pray with sincerity; or that we pray with one state of mind,
and act with another ; that we pray humbly, and act proudly;
that in prayer we are sensible of our moral impotence, and then
act without any sense of impotence; that we pray in faith, and
act without faith; that when we pray, we are conscious that we can
do nothing without Christ, and that when we act, we contradict
all this, and think we can do everything without him.
Once more. Our attempting to do anything without Christ will
464 TEIB D EP EN DEN C E OF C EIRISTIAN S.
certainly prevent the success of our labors. Christians know to
their own shame, how many times their efforts have proved un-
successful, because they have trusted in themselves, and endeav-
ored to do their duty in their own strength. Let us then guard
against pride and self-confidence, and keep steadily in mind, that
we are not sufficient of ourselves for any part of the work assigned
to us, and that all holiness and all blessedness, here and here-
after, must come from him in whom all fulness dwells.
A S E R M 0 M
DELIVERED IN THE CHAPEL OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, ANDOVEP
Ja FEB. 16, 1845.
Titus 1: 15, – UNTO THE PURE ALL THINGS ARE PURE: BUT UNTO THEM TIIAT
ARE DEFILED AND UNBELIEVING IS NOTIIING PURE; BUT EVEN THEIR
MIND AND CONSCIENCE IS DEFILED.
THE Apostle here suggests a general principle, namely, that
the manner in which anything affects us depends upon the state of
our minds. If our minds are pure, the things we contemplate
will be pure—pure to us; that is, will produce a pure effect
upon us — will excite pure thoughts and pure emotions. But if
our minds are impure, then whatever comes before us will be the
occasion of defilement—will excite impure thoughts and feelings.
The impurity or purity is really in ourselves; and the influence
of other things is only to give it action. The Apostle in another
Epistle applies this principle to things which in their own nature
are indifferent, and teaches us, that nothing of this kind is “un-
clean of itself,” and that whatever of uncleanness or defilement
there is, comes from ourselves. Our Saviour also brought this
principle into view, when he reproved the Pharisees for making
So much of external purity while they disregarded purity of heart,
and told them to do their duty, and “all things” would be “clean
to them.”
466 TO THE P U R E A L L T HIN G. S A. R. E. PU R. E.
My object is to illustrate the general principle suggested by
the text. And in order that you may come directly to right
views of this principle, fix upon two men, one of them in a right
state of mind, the other in a wrong state; one pure in heart, the
other impure ; and let these two men represent the two classes
into which mankind are divided, the holy, and the unholy; and
then contemplate the manner in which the two men are affected
by the objects to which they direct their attention. It is not
however to be supposed, that the different thoughts and emotions,
of which I speak, belong to all the individuals of each of the two
classes in the same form, or in the same degree. My position is,
that the exercises of each class are of the same nature.
The proposed illustration will require me to touch upon several
particular cases. -
Begin then with those things with which we are most familiar ;
and consider how differently an ungodly, worldly man, and a de-
vout Christian, are affected by the interests and enjoyments of the
present life. The worldly man is affected by these things in a
worldly manner ; that is, he has worldly feelings. And these
feelings, which are morally impure, arise from the impurity of his
heart. But in view of the same interests and enjoyments, very
different thoughts and feelings arise from the pure heart of the
devout Christian. The worldly man and the devout Christian
often engage in the same pursuits; they mingle in the same
scenes, and partake of the same pleasures. But the One carries
with him a selfish, worldly frame of mind; the other a spiritual
frame. The one supremely loves himself, and seeks his own pleas-
ure and honor; the other loves God, and aims to please and honor
him. And as they are thus different from each other in heart,
all the pursuits and interests of the world affect them in a differ-
ent manner. -
The principle under consideration may be illustrated by refer-
ring to cases which occur in the common course of human affairs.
Go to the family of the first king of Israel, and let Saul and his
son Jonathan represent the two classes of men; Saul ungodly,
proud and selfish; Jonathan sincere, benevolent and pious. How
TO T H E P U R E A L L T H IN G. S A. R. E. P. U. R. E. 467
|
differently were they affected towards David The blameless and
lovely character of the son of Jesse and his growing reputation
excited the jealousy and hatred of Saul; but the same things ex-
cited complacency and joy in the heart of Jonathan. How did
it happen that Saul treated David as he did Ž There was no
fault in David. He was a faithful servant and a dutiful son-in-law.
Why did Saul hate him, and try to destroy him : It was because
Saul had a selfish, envious, wicked heart. He hated David for
the very same reasons, for which Jonathan loved him. They both
saw that he was a virtuous youth, that he was rising in influence,
and had a prospect of attaining to the kingdom. This roused
the bitterest feelings and the most violent and murderous designs
in the heart of Saul. David was hateful to him, because he had
an envious, malignant heart. But Jonathan loved David because
he had a benevolent heart, the heart of a friend and brother.
And he rejoiced in David’s promotion, though he knew it would
displace him from the kingdom.
As a still more striking illustration, take the character of Jesus,
and the influence it had upon the mind of John, and upon the
mind of a self-righteous, ungodly Priest. In the view of John,
it was clothed with consummate beauty and excellence. In the
view of the ungodly Priest, it had no form or comeliness. In
the mind of the sincere disciple, it excited love and confidence.
In the mind of the self-righteous Priest, it excited feelings of
aversion and hostility. To the pure mind of John the character
of Christ was perfectly pure. But infinite purity itself was not
pure to the mind of the ungodly Priest. His heart, already de-
filed with selfish, worldly passions, showed its defilement more and
more by coming into contact with an object, which was so uncon-
genial to his disposition. -
The same principle is made manifest in the different thoughts
and feelings of men respecting the appetites and passions which
prove temptations to sin. The selfish, ungodly man says with a
complaining spirit, why has God given us these strong appetites
and passions, when he knew they would be the occasion of so
much mischief? Why has he placed us in a condition, which
468 TO THE P U R E A LL TEI IN G. S A. R. E. P. U R. E.
clothes vice with such attractions and rendels the practice of vir-
tue so difficult 2 Why has he left us in such a state, that we
need something above human power to make us holy and happy?
Why has God made us thus 3 Such are the thoughts and feel-
ings which are apt to arise in the selfish, carnal heart. Such are
the bitter waters which flow from this bitter fountain.
How different the thoughts and feelings of the man who has a
pure heart and a right spirit. Who am I, he says, that I should
reply against God? “Shall the thing formed say to him that
formed it why hast thou made me thus ** If such a man could
himself see no goodness or justice in this divine proceeding, he
would still bow submissively to the unsearchable wisdom of God,
and say, “even so Father, for so it seemed good in thy sight.”
But, in that very constitution of man, which is so often made a
matter of complaint against God, the intelligent Christian finds
clear evidence of divine benevolence. For he well knows, that
his matural appetites and passions, when unperverted, and regu-
lated as they should be, are sources of pure and virtuous enjoy-
ment; and that, if he were without them, he would be incapable
of some of the best earthly pleasures, and would be wholly unfit
for the present life. And suppose that the proper government
of his passions costs him a great sacrifice. He cheerfully makes
the sacrifice, for the sake of testifying his reverence and love to
his Saviour and giving glory to his name. He says welcome
self-denial, welcome the cross, if I may thereby honor God, and
acquire a greater conformity to his holy law.
But the good man takes still another view of the subject. That
his natural inclinations are so headstrong and so hard to be re-
strained, he considers his own fault. The passions of Jesus
were not violent and ungovernable. And he knows that his own
would not have been So, had he always regulated them according
to the will of God, and kept himself free from the disorder of
sin. Sin, and all the waywardness and turbulence of the passions
which accompany it or flow from it, he ascribes not to God, but to
himself.
When the selfish, worldly man looks at the evils of the present
TO THE PUR IS ALL TH IN G. S A R E PUR. E. 469
life, and reads what the Scriptures teach of the endless sufferings
of the world to come; his feelings are disturbed. He asks, why
there should be so dreadful a punishment for such offences. No
arguments can satisfy him of the justice of God in the evils en-
dured in this world, much less the everlasting miseries of the
future state. -
But this whole subject comes with a very different aspect before
the mind of a humble, devout Christian. Perhaps he also once
made objections to the present and future punishment of sin. But
his objections have vanished. He has, in some measure, a just
conception of the intrinsic evil and hatefulness of sin, and is fully
satisfied that the punishment which God now inflicts, and which he
threatens to inflict hereafter, is no more than equal to the demerit
of transgressors. So far as the present life is concerned, he
rather wonders that so dreadful an evil as sin is not visited with
a severer retribution. And if at any time he finds that the end-
less misery which is to come upon the wicked has a greatness
and a dreadfulness, which is incomprehensible and overwhelming,
he sees also that sinning against God is an evil of incomprehensible
greatness. And while he is totally unable by his own reason to
measure the evil of sin, or the dreadfulness of the threatened
punishment, and is of course unable to make out the exact corres-
pondence of the one with the other; he believes they are cor-
respondent; and from the infinite perfection of God, he certainly
concludes that no sinner in this world or in the next ever endures
a punishment which is beyond his desert, or which perfect justice
and goodness do not require.
There is no subject on which different individuals have had
views and feelings more at variance with each other, than the
evistence of evil, particularly moral evil. The unbeliever, the
caviller, has objections against what is a plain matter of fact, and
against the righteous government of God in regard to it. He goes
back to the first human sin; and with a complaining spirit he asks
why God gave so strict, and so unnecessary a prohibition to our
first parents; and why he affixed a penalty so dreadful for such
an offence; and why he left them exposed to so artful and power-
WOL. W. 40
470 TO THE P U R E A LL THING S A. R. E. PU R. E.
ful an enemy; and why he did not interpose for their safety 2–
He complains too of the fact, so clearly stated by the Apostle, and
so fully confirmed by the history of the world, that the character
and state of Adam’s posterity were inseparably connected with
his own. How is it possible, he says, to reconcile it with perfect
benevolence or righteousness, that by the offence of one the whole
human family should be brought into existence in such a state,
that sin and ruin will certainly be the result, unless prevented by
an extraordinary act of mercy 7 Thus the carnal mind replies
against God, and finds fault with his providence;— turns away
from the light of divine truth, and shrouds itself in the darkness
of error and sin. To such a man, nothing in the great scheme of
God’s government appears right. He sees in it no marks of
wisdom or goodness. .
But when the Christian, in a humble, devout frame of mind,
contemplates the same scheme of moral and providential govern-
ment, how widely different are the exercises of his mind and
heart | He is free from the darkness of error and sin, and has
within him the light of the knowledge of the glory of God. In
the history of our first parents, and of the whole conduct of God
towards them before and after their fall, the good man sees clear
evidence of divine wisdom, holiness and benevolence. As to the
conduct of God relative to the existence of moral evil, the man
who has a child-like temper and receives instruction from the word
and Spirit of God, has no disquietude—no want of satisfaction.
The pillar of cloud, which is all gloominess and terror to others,
is to him, a pillar of fire shedding a clear and brilliant light.
In the dark region of this earth, there are innumerable misty
Speculations and misconceptions hanging around this subject ; and
the carnal mind seizes upon them, and in its madness holds them
fast, as though they were an invaluable possession. But the light
which comes from heaven reveals precious, golden truths in rela-
tion to this subject. These truths attract the good man’s eager
attention. They enlighten his eyes. They quiet and comfort his
heart. And what are those precious truths which so fully occupy
his mind, as to banish all bewildering and restless thoughts? I
will tell you what they are.
TO T H E P U R E A LL T BI IN G S A. R. E. P UR. E. 471
The first of these truths is, that sin, whether found in Paradise
or in any other part of the earth, is to be wholly ascribed to man,
as his fault. Transgression of the law is man’s act entirely. All
that God does in reference to sin or sinners, is pure, benevolent
and wise. And for all the agency which he exercises, he is worthy
to be exalted and praised. God is light, and in him is no dark-
mess at all. God is holy, and in him is no unholiness. God is
pure ; and though he is so conversant with a world of sinners, and
is so near to them, he is still perfectly pure. Among us, sin is con-
tagious. We contract pollution from our intercourse with the
polluted. But God possesses infinite and unchangeable purity.
This is one of the good man's precious truths. His God is a God
of immutable holiness. It is man that does wrong. He is the
sinner. His is the criminality, the shame, the ill-desert, and the
righteous punishment.
Another of the truths which the good man holds so dear, is,
that God, in his wonderful working providence, will cause the
wrath of man to praise him. He will make sin the occasion of
good. And the good he will accomplish by means of sin is bound-
less. This begins to appear in the present world, and will appear
more and more clearly forever, particularly in the work of re-
demption. Now the man of a right spirit rejoices that, while sin
is so criminal in its nature and so pernicious in its tendency, God
will overrule it for good. This good is God’s work; and the
man who is pure in heart rejoices in it. He contemplates with
pleasure the everlasting good which will be educed from the evil
of sin. Amid all the shame and Sorrow which he feels on account
of the prevalence of moral evil in himself and in the world, the
holy government of God is light and joy to his soul.
But there is one more truth in this case, which the good man
receives and binds to his heart; namely, that there is a way in
which he may be delivered from the evil of sin. Instead, therefore,
of wasting his time in endeavoring to solve insolvable difficulties,
he gives himself to the great business of salvation; resolved that
whatever may be left undone, he will incessantly apply himself
to that gracious Saviour who came to redeem men from all iniqui-
472 TO THE PURE ALL TEI IN G. S A R E PUR IB .
ty, and will strive, through the help of the divine Spirit, to obtain
deliverance from that abominable thing which God hates. This
warfare against sin, and this earnest endeavor after deliverance
from it becomes the business of his life, and the powers of his
mind are comparatively turned off from other objects, and cen-
tered upon this. This doctrine of redemption, this opening of
a new and living way of deliverance from sin, is, to the good man
the crowning gospel truth which he counts worthy of all accepta-
tion. It is a pillar of fire, a resplendent light, directing his way
through the wilderness to the promised land. But to the carnal
reasoner, this resplendent light is a dark, bewildering cloud. To
him nothing is pure. There is nothing in the character and gov-
ernment of God, or in gospel salvation, which sheds light or com—
fort upon him, because his evil passions have blinded his eyes, and
his heart is not right with God.
But other examples crowd upon us, affording clear illustrations
of the same principle. Let then the two persons, before introduced,
that is, the man of a proud, carnal mind, and the man of a humble,
spiritual mind, contemplate the peculiar doctrines of Christianity;
the doctrine that all men are naturally dead in sin, without any
love to their Creator or their Redeemer; the doctrine that there
is a door opened for their salvation, but that they refuse to enter
in, that none will ever come to Christ, unless they are drawn of
the Father; the doctrine that man must be born again, or he
cannot see the kingdom of heaven; that this new birth is not of
man, but of God; that God does not bestow the gift of his re-
generating Spirit for any works or worthiness of ours, but accord-
ing to his own purpose and grace; the doctrine that redeemed
sinners are required to obey God and abound in good works not
to purchase forgiveness and salvation, which are entirely of grace,
but to testify their love and gratitude to their God and Saviour,
and to do good to their fellow men; that those who would attain
to the blessedness of heaven must all their days maintain a con-
flict with sin, and endure afflictions, and must forever feel and
acknowledge, that the glory of their salvation belongs exclusively
to God; let the two persons representing the two classes into
TO THIE IP U R E A LIL TH IN G S A. R. E .P U R. E. 473
which mankind are divided, turn their attention to these doctrines
of revelation, and others allied to them ; and how different will be
the exercises of their minds ! To the pure the whole system of
divine truth will be pure; but to him that is defiled nothing will
be pure.
Just glance at Some of the more prominent parts of the gospel
system. Present then the doctrine of redemption. Hold forth
the exalted character of the Son of God, his incarnation, his in-
structions, his atoning blood, his spiritual kingdom, and the work
of grace which he is executing in the salvation of his people.
How does all this appear to the man of a carnal, self-complacent
mind? How did the character and work of Christ appear to the
unbelieving Jew and to the conceited Greek 7 To the one it was
an offence; to the other, foolishness. To the ungodly man at the
present day, it is often both an offence and foolishmess. The
whole range of gospel doctrines is unwelcome to him. It excites
either his enmity or his contempt, often both. He sees no divine
excellence in the character of Christ. He sees no necessity for
his humiliation and death. He sees no such malignity and ill-
desert in sin, as to make such a sacrifice necessary to our salva-
tion. The doctrine of Christ crucified, which is invested with
such glories to the believer, has no glory to his eyes, and no at-
tractions to his heart. The precepts of Christ require what he is
unwilling to do, and forbid what he is unwilling to forego. If this
glorious gospel is urged upon him as a matter of personal obliga-
tion, calling for his faith and submission; his unsubdued heart
rises against it, and utters or conceals the fatal determination,
that Christ shall not reign over him. When the scheme of reve-
lation is fairly presented before him, he turns away from the whole
and every part of it. Pure, spiritual, holy Christianity is utterly
distasteful to his impure, earthly mind.
But how different is the fact with the man, who has a pure,
spiritual mind! To him the plan of redemption is divine beauty
and excellence throughout. Nothing in the whole compass of
thought can be compared with it. He looks with admiration upon
the works of creation, and joins with the Psalmist in exclaiming;
40*
474 TO THE P U R E A LL TIIIN G. S A. R. E. P.U R. E.
“Great and marvellous are thy works.” He has a relish for
whatever is suited to the intellect or the taste. But the wonders
of creation, and even the divine glories manifested by them, all
fade away before the higher glory of God in the face of Jesus
Christ. The very name of Christ has a sacred charm in it, and
kindles the purest, sweetest emotions in his heart. Christ is
all his salvation, and all his desire. He sees the necessity of
Christ’s being a propitiation for sinners by dying in their stead,
in order that the divine character and law may be vindicated,
and that God may be just, while he justifies them who believe.
The grace of Christ appears to him all-sufficient, and his com-
mands holy, just, and good. The yoke of Christ, so grievous to
others, is easy to him, and his burden light. He cordially sub-
mits to Christ’s authority. His pride and selfishness have been
cast down from their throne, though not yet destroyed; and he
takes a low place before God, and desires one still lower. He is
resolved to make constant war against in-dwelling sin, till it is
utterly destroyed, and to labor and strive till he attains to that
complete moral purity to which he so ardently aspires.
Take another illustration from the doctrine of divine sovereignty
in the dispensation of grace. This doctrine is exceedingly an-
noying to a proud, self-righteous person. There is no end to the
objections which he brings against it. The distinctions which
God constantly makes among men in regard to their earthly con-
dition often disturbs his feelings. But that God should, in a
sovereign way, choose some to Salvation in distinction from others,
where all are alike ill-deserving, is a doctrine which he cannot
think of without dissatisfaction. But to the man who knows him-
self and loves God, the doctrine is full of comfort. In his view,
it furnishes the only ground of hope for any of our sinful race.
And he renders hearty thanks to God, who in his wonderful love
has chosen him, who was by nature a child of wrath, to be an
heir of eternal life. & $
But I cannot dilate further on this subject. The principle is
plain; and it is universal. The perfections and government of
God, and the character and work of Christ, his just commands,
TO THE P U R E A L L T HIN G. S A. R. E. PUR E. 475
his holy doctrines, his spiritual kingdom, the work of his Spirit,
the ways of divine providence, what God does, and what he does
not do, - all these are repulsive to the carnal mind; but they
are attractive to the spiritual mind;— all light to the one ; all
darkness to the other; – all harmony and beauty to the one; all
jargon and deformity to the other. This fact is not always
brought out clearly to view. The good man is not perfectly good.
His heart is pure, but not entirely so. Divine things are pre-
sented before him, but their excellence are seen only in part, be-
cause he is purified only in part. He has not all the holy
thoughts and emotions which proceed from a perfectly holy mind.
And it is a fact also, that the repugnance of the unsanctified man
to divine things is not always apparent, and, in this world, never
perfectly so, because he is never free from checks and hinder-
ances, and never has a perfectly clear view of divine things.
But there is a time at hand, when divine objects will be seen as
they are, and when the alienation and enmity of the unsanctified
heart will be fully acted out. At the judgment day Christ will
sit upon the throne of his glory, and all nations stand before
him. Then the infinite perfections of God, the glory of Christ,
the wonders of grace in redemption, the excellence of divine
truth, the holiness and blessedness of heaven, – the whole range
of spiritual objects will be presented in a light above the bright-
ness of noon-day. How pure, how lovely, how glorious will the
august scene be to those who are pure in heart! How will they
hail the happy day! What holy raptures will the sight of those
objects kindle in their souls' What a heaven will it be to them
to see Christ as he is, and to be with him, and to know that they
shall be with him forever. Oh! what a home will this be to
those who have been strangers and pilgrims on earth! What
perfect rest will they find in the bosom of God!
But what will be the condition of those who come to that great
day with an unregenerate, unholy heart 2 In all that bright scene,
there will be no bright spot to them. In all that display of divine
excellence and glory, no excellence or glory will strike their eyes.
A universe of spiritual beauty and loveliness is before them, and
476 TO THE P UR, E A L L T EII N G S A. R. E. PU R. E.
every holy heart beats high with love and delight. But they see
no beauty, and feel no delight. Let them be brought to the very
gate of the heavenly Jerusalem, and let them look in upon that
heavenly light before which the sun is ashamed to show his face.
That glorious light of heaven is all dark, dark, dark to them.
They have no eyes to see the light which shines there. They
have mo heart to love the God who reigns there. They have no
taste for the joy that fills the holy there. Let them be thrust into
the heavenly Jerusalem. They would find nothing to love; noth-
ing to enjoy. The happiness of heaven would be misery to them.
They would choose to die, rather than to live. And if they
must live, they would choose to live any—where on the earth, or
under the earth, or to be carried away swiftly beyond the bounds
of God’s creation, rather than dwell there, amid the praises and
joys of heaven, so uncongenial and painful to their feelings.
My hearers, we have now turned our thoughts upon some of
the interesting objects and movements of this probationary state,
and to the developments here made of the holy and the unholy
heart; and we have come to the final result of the present life,
a result so happy, and so miserable, that language is too poor to
describe it. And now as I close, I entreat you to look seriously
at two things. First, look at sin ; and see what it is, and what
it does. Men in general think sin has but little evil in it, and
that it does little or no hurt. They even love it and cherish it,
as though it were excellence itself. But it is immeasurably evil
in itself, and is the source of all other evils. There is nothing in
the universe so hateful, - nothing so permicious. Indeed, there
is nothing else, which is either hateful or pernicious. All that is
vile, abominable and destructive lies in the bosom of sin. All
those plagues which have come upon the world from age to age,
tell you of the evil there is in sin. But they do not tell you all
its evil. The miseries of hell will tell this, and will be telling it
forever. Look seriously upon this hateful thing, which the
Apostle tried to describe, but could do no more than to call it
“exceedingly sinful.” This is the evil which has seized upon
man, and has diffused its deadly poison through his soul. It has
TO TEIB P TJ RE A L J, T BIT N G S A. R. E. P. U R. E. 4 (7
blinded his eyes to spiritual beauty. It has made his heart dead
to holy joy. Were it not for sin, it would be heaven everywhere,
because God is everywhere. But sin has changed the scene, so
that the glorious presence of God causes misery instead of happi-
ness, to the alienated heart. This is the plague, which in an evil
hour entered Paradise, and which reigned from Adam to Moses,
and from Moses to Christ, and from Christ to the present day;
an evil which has bred all other evils ; an evil so powerful in
mischief, that it has required a mighty effort of omnipotence itself
to restrain its malignant power, and to preven; it from destroying
all the good in the universe.
Look now at one thing more. You have seen what is that evil
which dwells in man ; how it defiles his spiritual nature, hardens
his heart, turns light into darkness, purity into impurity, and
alienates the soul from God and from heaven. Now why do not
all, who have this evil dwelling in them, feel the wretchedness of
their condition; and why do they not inquire, with the deepest
solicitude, whether there is any effectual remedy ? And if there
is, why do they not desire and seek it with all their heart? My
hearers, a merciful God has provided a remedy, and the gospel
sets it before you. It is “ the renewing of the Holy Ghost.”
He who came to save sinners, says: “ Ye must be born again.”
The regenerating work of the Spirit, — who can describe its
worth Ž It takes away pollution, and makes the heart pure. It
renders the character and the supreme dominion of God, and all
the ways of his providence, welcome and joyful. It prepares man
to be happy in any place, where God is. “Blessed are the pure
in heart; for they shall see God.” This will be the consumma-
tion of their blessedness. Their pure heart will be filled with all
the fulness of God. Oh! the preciousness of this renewing,
cleansing, Sanctifying Spirit ! The wealth of worlds has no value
compared with it. And Christ and heaven will be no joy to us
without it. Let all then, with one accord, hasten to the throne
of grace, and there prostrate themselves before God in humble,
earnest prayer for the precious gift of the Holy Spirit, to cleanse
them from the defilement of sin, and to make them pure in heart.
A S E R M 0 N
Øs
DELIVERED IN THE CILAPEL OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, ANDOVER,
JUNE 21, 1846.
f
John 14:28. —IF YE LOVED ME, YE WOULD REJOICE BECAUSE I SAID, I Go
To THE FATHER; FOR MY FATHER IS GREATER THAN I.
John 16: 7. – NEveRTHELESS, I TELL YOU THE TRUTH : I.T. Is ExPEDIENT FOR
You THAT I Go Away; For IF I GO NOT Away, THE COMFORTER wild
Not come UNTO YOU ; BUT IF I DEPART, I WILL SEND HIM UNTO YOU.
WHEN the time drew near, in which the Saviour was to finish
his work on earth and return to the Father, and when he had dis-
tinctly told his disciples that he was about to go away from them ;
it is no wonder that sorrow filled their hearts. How grievous
must have been the thought, that their Lord was soon to depart
from them, and to leave them alone, poor and powerless, and ex-
posed to dangers on every side. He apprised them of the trials
and sufferings which they were to encounter. On the other hand,
he took care to guard them against excessive sorrow and dejec
tion. How encouraging and consoling were the instructions he
gave them, first, in the upper room, where he instituted the sacred
Supper; and then, in the garden, where he had so often met:
them, and where he then met them for the last time. There were
two points which he distinctly suggested to them, for the express
purpose of reconciling them to his approaching departure. In
CHRIST's ABS EN CE EXPEDIENT. 479
the first of these, he appealed to their love for him ; in the second
to their regard to their own good. •
First ; to reconcile his disciples to his absence, Jesus appealed
to their affection for him. “If ye loved me,” i. e. if ye loved
me with an enlightened and consistent love, “ye would rejoice
because I said, I go to the Father; for my Father is greater
than I.” The argument is, that Christ's going to the Father
would raise him to a condition of higher glory and blessedness,
than what belonged to him on earth. In coming to this world,
he had divested himself of the glory which he had with the Fa-
ther before the world was. His state on earth was a state of
dishonor; for he was despised and rejected of men. It was a
state of poverty. He was made poor for our sakes; — so poor
that he had not where to lay his head. It was a state of suffer-
ing. Through his whole life, and especially at its close, he was a
man of sorrows and acquainted with grief. Such, and more than
I can describe, was the dishonor, the degradation and the suffer-
ing, to which Jesus was subjected in his earthly state. And if
his disciples loved him as they ought, they must have sympathized
with him while he endured so many sufferings, and must havé
rejoiced that he was soon to be delivered from them, and to be
exalted to a state of unspeakable honor and blessedness at the
right hand of God. The Father's being greater than the Son,
seems evidently to refer to his being in that higher state, that
state of superior glory, into which Jesus was to enter when he
should leave the world and go to the Father.” The happy change
which was to take place in the condition of Jesus — change from
a lower to a higher state — from ignominy to glory — from pain
and sorrow to celestial blessedness, must have been a matter of
heart-felt joy to all his friends. How do Christians now rejoice
when they consider that their Saviour has been delivered from all
the evils he endured here below, and that he is highly exalted,
and has received a name which is above every name. You cannot
* The Greek word pleíčov, rendered “greater,” has this meaning in some other
places; and in this place such a sense of the word is required in order to give con-
sistency and intelligible force to the passage.
480 IT WAS EXPEDIENT FOR THE DISCIPLES
forget what your Saviour suffered on earth. But you rejoice that
he will suffer no more ; that he has gone through the painful Ser-
vice which he undertook for us, and now inherits the fulness of
heavenly felicity. This was the subject of joy which Jesus sug-
gested to his disciples. He was then in a low suffering condition;
but he was soon to go to his Father, and to partake with him of all
that was exalted and glorious in the heaven of heavens. What
could reconcile his disciples to his absence, if not such a consid-
eration as this 7 And those same disciples who listened to this
last discourse of Jesus, have for many happy ages, been with him
in his exalted state, and know better than we can, what reason all
the friends of Christ have to rejoice, that he has been delivered
from his state of humiliation and enjoys the glory which he had
with the Father before the World was.
The other consideration which Jesus suggested to his disciples
in order to reconcile them to his absence, related to their own
spiritual interest. “It is expedient for you that I go away.”
This is the point which is more particularly to occupy our at-
tention.
In consequence of Christ's humiliation and suffering, God high-
ly exalted him, and gave him a name which is above every name.
This state of exaltation carried with it a higher and more glorious
agency in accomplishing the work of Saving his people, and in con-
ducting all the affairs of his kingdom. The work which the Medi-
ator had undertaken was a work of indescribable magnitude and
importance. And he could carry forward this great work better in
the courts above, than in any condition below; better on his throne,
than on his footstool. The earth was the place appointed for him
to humble himself, and to die for the sins of men. Heaven was the
place for him to reign, and to exercise his power and mercy in the
complete salvation of his people. The earth was a fit place for
him to enter on the work of saving the lost. But to exercise his
almighty agency as Lord of the universe, he must have a larger
place and a higher position, than this earth could afford. It was
then no want of love to his disciples that influenced him to leave
the world and go to the Father. Far from it. His object was
THAT JESUS SHOULD G O AWAY. 481
to exercise his benevolence in larger measures, and to promote
the welfare of his people more effectually, than he could do, if he
should remain on earth.
But we must attend chiefly to the particular point mentioned in
the text.
At first view we might find it difficult to understand why it could
be expedient for his disciples that Jesus should depart from them;
that after he had been with them long enough to make them sen-
sible of the value of his presence, and to gain their strongest affec-
tion and confidence, he should go away and leave them to mourn
that they should see his face no more. You, brethren, have never
enjoyed the bodily presence of Christ. But have you not often
wished that you might have this privilege. Have not your hearts
sometimes burned within you at the thought of his making a visit
to you, as he often did to Lazarus and his sisters? How precious
would the opportunity be Especially when you have come to
the table of your Lord, have you not sometimes spontaneously
said in your hearts, O! what a privilege it would be, to behold
the blessed Jesus himself— with our own eyes to see him before
us, and with our own ears to hear him bless the bread and say, as
he did to his disciples, take, eat; this is my body which is broken
for yow; this do in remembrance of me. One such opportunity
with your blessed Lord, you may think, would be more precious
to you, would excite your sorrow for sin, your faith, your hope,
and your joy, and strengthen you for your spiritual warfare
more effectually, than all the Ieligious privileges you have ever
enjoyed. - e
|But Jesus assured his disciples that there was something better
than all this ; and their experience confirmed the truth of his
declaration. They were really better off after his departure, than
before. They had clearer knowledge, stronger faith, and more
fervent love. They were more willing to labor and suffer for
Christ. And they had purer joys. While Christ abode with
them, they had not attained to the happy state of those to whom
Peter afterwards said: “Whom having not seen, ye love; in
VOL. V. 41
482 IT W AS EXPEDIENT FOR TIII, DISCIPLES
whom, though now ye see him not, yet believing, ye rejoice with
joy wrºspeakable, and full of glory.” º:
Now the ground of all this improvement in the condition of the
disciples after Christ's departure, is set before us in the text. “It
is expedient for you that I go away: for if I go not away, the
Comforter will not come unto you : but if I depart, I will send
him unto you.”
There are two things in particular, which are here to be con-
sidered.
Eirst. It was the divine appointment in the economy of re-
demption, — that the period following the humiliation and death
of Christ, that is, the period of his exaltation and glory, should
be marked with the dispensation of the Holy Spirit in a far higher
degree than any period before. God had previously given his
Spirit to sanctify and guide his people. But the latter period
was to be distinguished by a work of the Spirit, far wider in
eatent and far higher in degree, than was ever experienced be-
fore. This dispensation of the Spirit was so superior to what had
been enjoyed under the previous dispensation, that, in the free
language of the sacred writers, it is often spoken of as though it
were a new thing— as though nothing of the kind had ever been
experienced before. Thus also it is said, that life and immortality
were brought to light by the gospel; as though they had not been
known before. In all such cases, the language of Scripture is
to be understood comparatively. The repeated declaration of
Christ to his disciples, that he would send the Holy Spirit as
their advocate and comforter, is unquestionably to be taken in this
sense. He would send the Spirit in more abundant measures.
Many texts represent the gift of the Spirit as peculiar to the new
dispensation, as the great blessing of the Christian church; and
some texts speak of it as though it were the blessing of the
‘Christian church only. But all these texts are to be taken in the
sense above suggested. The Holy Spirit was really given to
enlighten and sanctify men during the life of Christ. It was
however given only in small measures. Few comparatively were
sanctified, and the faith and love of those few were less in degree
TIIAT J E S US SHOULD G O AWAY. 483
than afterwards. Look at the day of Pentecost. The peculiar
promises respecting that more abundant influence of the Spirit
began then to be fulfilled, as the Apostle Peter set forth at the
time. Now when during the life of Christ, or in any previous
period, was there such a work of divine grace 7 When were
three thousand sinners turned to God in a day ? And when and
where did anything take place under the former economy, like
the spread of the gospel and the renewal of men to holiness, at
Corinth, at Ephesus, and in a multitude of other places 7 I
might point you also to the conversion of sinners and the spread
of the gospel in modern times. What was the most successful
work of proselyting Gentiles to the Jewish religion, compared with
the work of the Spirit since Christ was glorified ?
Thus Christ did indeed send the Holy Spirit after his departure;
as he had never done before ; and this superior dispensation
of the Spirit has been the distinguishing mark of the state of
the church since the Redeemer was exalted to his throne in the
heavens. -
Secondly ; this more abundant influence of the Spirit, is of far
higher value to Christians, than the bodily presence of Christ, so
that it is really expedient that he should be absent from them,
that he might send them that richer gift.
Followers of Jesus, I tell you the truth. A higher privilege is
granted you, than the personal presence of your Saviour. For
after all, what did such presence of Jesus really do for his disci-
ples 2 Did it make them holy, to see his face, and hear his
voice, and touch him with their hands? Did his visible presence
and his free intercourse with them subdue their pride and un-
belief, and make them meek and lowly in heart 2 Were they as
constant in their adherence to him, and as ready to do and to
. Suffer in his cause, and were they as spiritually minded and
happy, as they were after the more abundant effusion of the
Spirit 7 And how would it be with Christians now You may
imagine that, if you could have Jesus personally present, and
enjoy his Society, you should quickly overcome sin and live a
heavenly life. But had you his bodily presence and nothing
484 IT W As ExPEDIENT FOR THE DISCIPLES
more, you would continue to be as unlike him, as you ever have
been. Reliance upon this desired privilege would be sure to end
in disappointment, just as your reliance upon outward privileges
always has done. Consider then the subject in the light of truth.
Through the mercy of God, you are placed under an economy
which is marked by a more free and abundant influence of the
Holy Spirit. The promised Guide and Comforter has come.
When you retire for meditation and prayer, how great the privi-
lege of Christ's bodily presence would be. But you have a
greater privilege. And for the sake of this greater privilege, it
is expedient for you to be without the other. — When called to
difficult duties and trials, you may think, how great the favor
would be, if you could see Jesus and converse with him, and
seek of him the favors which you need. And a great favor it
might indeed be. But you have a greater. —When you come to
the sacred Supper, you may think, how unspeakable would be
the favor, if you might see Jesus himself there, and might with
your own eyes look upon him, and hear his voice, and might re-
ceive the bread and the wine from his own hands. And a great
privilege this might indeed be. But my brethren, you have a
privilege still greater. The illuminating, purifying, consoling in-
fluence of the Spirit, is of even more worth, than the visible
presence of Jesus. Without that Spirit, the personal presence
ºf Christ would avail nothing, and you would be as poor and
miserable and wretched, as if there was no Saviour. But if that
Spirit may be given you and dwell in you, you will be rich and
happy, though your Redeemer reigns above the skies, where your
“weak senses reach him not.” You will love an unseen Saviour,
you will see his glory, you will taste that he is good, and your
joy will be full.
And if you do truly seek and receive that more full and pow-.
erful influence of the Holy Spirit, which belongs to the dispensa-
tion under which you live, you will really have the presence of
Jesus. He will truly be with you in your retirement, and in
the house of prayer, and on all other occasions, not indeed in a
bodily sense, but in a higher and more scriptural sense, that is,
TEIA. T J E S U S S FI O U L D G O A. W. A. Y. 485
spiritually.” The eyes of your understanding will be opened,
and you will see the transcendent excellence of your ascended
Redeemer, and you will rejoice that he is gone from his suffering
state on earth, and dwells on his throne on high. In the clear
light which the Spirit will cause to shine within you, that high
throne and he who sits upon it will be brought near you. The
Son of God, the divine, Almighty Saviour will be present in re-
ality and in truth; —present in the very sense which is most of
all to be desired. You will have true spiritual converse with him.
Your heart and your lips will speak to him, and you will know
that he hears you. And he will hold converse with you, his
very heart so full of love and sympathy, will speak to you, and
his words will be life and peace. Oh! how blessed is the com-
munion of believers with the present but unseen Saviour ! Now
thanks be to God that we live under this dispensation of the Holy
Spirit, and that amidst the thousand precious blessings we enjoy,
we may behold the glory of the Son of God, and have fellowship
with him, and may so receive of his fulness, that we shall have
no desire unsatisfied, no want unsupplied.
And now, brethren, it is very important for us to inquire, what
duty is incumbent on us in regard to the dispensation of the Spirit
under which we are placed. This dispensation is certainly at-
tended with greater advantages, than that which was enjoyed
before the advent of Christ, or even during his abode on earth.
It is therefore perfectly manifest, that it was expedient not only
that the whole ritual service of the Mosaic economy should cease,
but that Christ himself should leave the world and be exalted to
his throne on high, thus making way, according to the unsearch-
able wisdom of God, for the Holy Spirit to come in his more
abundant influences, and dwell with the followers of Christ. The
important question for us is this: how shall we secure to ourselves
the peculiar benefits of the reign of Christ in heaven and the more
abundant effusion of the Spirit winder the present dispensation.
* See Ephesians 3:17, 1 John 3: 24. John 6:56, 14:21, 23. 17: 23. Rom.
8: 11. Col. 1: 27. Gal. 2: 20.
t 41*
486 IT W AS EXPEDIENT FOR TEIE DISC II? L E S
This dispensation is one of unparalleled mercy; and the blessings
it brings are above all price. By what means shall we secure
those inestimable blessings to ourselves?
On this point we may obtain some valuable information from the
recorded eaſperience of those who have, in a good measure, pro-
fitted by the present dispensation. See then in what way, the
apostles and primitive Christians became partakers of the precious
fruits of the Spirit; and how they and other eminent believers in
after-times attained to that peculiar excellence of character and
life which is the proper result of the dispensation of the Spirit.
On this point there has been a general agreement among emi-
ment Christians. They have all had a deep conviction of the
sinfulness and pollution of their hearts, which is the great evil
to be remedied by the dispensation of the Spirit. They have
been sensible of the necessity and the preciousness of this sanc-
tifying work of the Spirit, and have earnestly prayed for it; and
they have watchfully avoided all hinderances to it in their own
hearts. -
If then you would obtain the peculiar benefits of the present
dispensation of the Holy Spirit, you must have a deep conviction
of your sinfulness and pollution. Sin is the evil which it is the
special work of the Spirit to remedy. It is primarily the disor-
der of the heart, though it shows itself in outward transgressions.
When you entered on the life of piety, you began to know your
sinfulness. But if you would arrive at an advanced state of
piety, and would in any good degree be complete in all the will
of God, you must have a growing conviction of the deceitfulness
and desperate wickedness of your heart, so that you may abhor
..ourselves, and cry out, Oh! wretched man that I am, who shall
deliver me from the body of this death / The low attainments of
Christians generally are owing not a little to their defective views
of the evil of their hearts. They who are the most holy, have
the strongest conviction of the depth and malignity of the evil
within them.
You must also be sensible how much you need the work of the
Holy Spirit, and how precious that work is. Do you ask how
THAT J E S US SEI O U L D G O A W A Y. 487
much you must feel your need of this? I answer; you will never
come to the right state, so long as you have any idea left that
you can cure the evil in your heart by your own exertions. Here,
Christians are frequently involved in a hurtful mistake. They
are sensible of various sinful dispositions. But they have a secret
feeling, that they are sufficient of themselves, to subdue them.
They resolve to be rid of their sins; and their inward thought is,
that their resolution will be effectual; and that they can put off
their evil habits at will. This is a great mistake. It is a certain
truth, and you must know it, that there is no power that can sub-
due your sins and cleanse your heart, but the power of the Holy
Spirit.
You must be sensible of the great value of the work of the
Spirit. You look at faith, love, humility, meekness, and all the
other Christian graces, and you see their beauty and importance,
and you say, how precious they are You are drawn towards
them. You long and pant for them as the hart panteth for the
water brook.
And then, as a consequence of this earnest desire, you will
engage in prayer for the Holy Spirit. You will go to God and
ask for the gift of the Spirit, with a feeling that you cannot live
without it. You will beg and plead for it as for the life of your
soul. And if your petition is not granted at once, as is often the
case, you will ask again; you will seek and knock, and will be-
come more and more importunate, till you attain the blessing.
Brayer is appointed, as the special means of securing the presence
of the Holy Spirit, and of becoming partakers of all its fruits.
And it will generally be successful in proportion to the strength
and fervor of the desire which you feel for the blessing. If you
pray for the Holy Spirit with groanings which cannot be uttered;
if you desire it, as the covetous man desires wealth, and the
ambitious man honor; you will not pray in vain. Such prayer
availeth much. When children ask bread, a kind father will not
give them a stone. And when they ask a fish, he will not give
them a scorpion. And if an imperfect earthly father knows how
to give good gifts to his children; how much more will your Fa-
488 IT W A S EXPEDIENT FOR TIII; D IS CIPLES
ther who is in heaven, and who is infinite in goodness, give his
Holy Spirit to them that ask him. If your heart is truly set
upon obtaining the indwelling of the Spirit; if you cry to God
with unceasing earnestness, that he would bestow this invaluable
blessing upon you; you will not fail of success. There never
was a child of God, who turned his thoughts distinctly upon Chris-
tian love, joy, and peace, and the other fruits of the Spirit, and
who desired them above all earthly good, and who looked to God
for them with persevering importunity, -never was one who pur-
sued this course, without obtaining the blessing desired. This is
the way in which Christians have been gradually freed from the
common faults and blemishes of character, and have been adorned
with whatsoever things are true, honest, just, pure, lovely and of
good report. The way is perfectly plain, in which not a few min- .
isters and private Christians in every age, have become bright and
shining lights. Christians of an ordinary character live in the
same society; have the same Scriptures, and the same opportu-
nities for prayer, and the same offer of God’s abounding grace.
Why then do they linger so far behind 7 Why remain with so
little of the subduing, elevating, comforting influence of the Spirit 2
Verily, they are not straitened in God, but in themselves. They
receive not, because they ask not. Their low attainments, their
deficiencies and blemishes must be charged to their own sinful
aegligence. They might have been as holy, and they might
Mave been as manifestly sealed for heaven by the Holy Spirit,
as the apostles and martyrs were. God has said to them, Ask
and it shall be given you. Open your mouth wide, and I will
fill it.
Dut there is still another thing, which is as necessary as fervent
desire and prayer; that is, that you should watchfully avoid every-
thing which would prove a hinderance to the work of the Spirit in
Ayour hearts. The humble, contrite heart is the proper abode of
the Spirit. But if you regard iniquity in your heart, if you allow
yourself in known sin, either in your life or in your affections, you
will grieve the Spirit, and hinder his sanctifying work. Here is
the strange inconsistency which is often found among Christians.
THAT J E S US SBIO U L D G O AWAY. 489
They pray God to purify their hearts by his Spirit, and then they
cherish impure desires. They pray that the Holy Ghost may
dwell in them and make them spiritually minded, and they soon
give place to the carnal mind. Now whatever is contrary to the
nature and object of the Holy Spirit, whether in thought, word
or deed, is a direct hinderance to his operation in the soul. How
do you find it to be in your garden or field? Weeds which spring
up and grow spontaneously, hinder the growth of the useful plant.
Suppose the rain and the sun-shine come upon the plant. They
come also upon the weeds which surround it. And if the weeds
remain, they will grow faster than the useful plant, and will choke
it, so that it will come to nothing. If you would have fruit you
must clear away the weeds; not once, but constantly. So in the
Christian life. Sinful thoughts and desires, and sinful words and
actions, which are the natural product of the human heart, are
direct hinderances to the sanctifying operation of the Spirit, and
the growth of grace. Against all these you must watchfully
guard, if you would have the work of the Holy Spirit advanced
within you. You must labor to exclude them. You must over-
come them. You pray for the sanctifying influence of the Spirit.
But you might as well not pray, as to pray, and then do that
which will prevent an answer to your prayer. Dear brethren,
servants of the holy Jesus, let me beseech you to shun all the
ways of sin, and to do the whole will of God. There is nothing
else that you need to shun. There is nothing but sin, showing
itself in your life, or lurking in your heart, that can be a hin-
derance to the increasing work of the Holy Spirit. There is
nothing but sin that can offend and grieve the Spirit. That be-
nignant Spirit can bear with your weakness, and with your inno-
cent infirmitics — yea, with infirmities which are not innocent, if
you mourn for them and are humbled under them. The Spirit will
not forsake you, because your natural affections and your attach-
ment to things in themselves useful or harmless, are somewhat
excessive, if you strive against that excess, He will not forsake
you, because your heart has some remains of pride, or selfishness,
or worldliness, or impurity, if you resist the evil, and loathe your
490 IT W AS EXPEDIENT FOR TEI E DISCIIPLES
selves on account of it. He will not forsake you, because there
is a law in your members warring against the law of your mind,
and often bringing you into captivity—if you heartily condemn
it, and cry for deliverance from it. But there is one thing and
only one, which will cause the Spirit to depart from you, and that
is, allowed sin — living in sin. If you open your heart to that
hateful thing—if you embrace it—if you are content that it
should remain, and wage no war against it; then, I forewarn you
that the Spirit of God will be grieved, and his blessed influence
will be quenched. That heavenly Visitant, will not be an immate
in a heart that loves sin. He will not afford his favorable pres-
ence with those whose settled habit it is to disobey the holy com-
mands of the gospel. This it is, which will cause the heavenly
Agent to depart. And if you do not find the Spirit dwelling in
you, as his temple, and adding grace to grace, and comfort to
comfort; then look for the cause in some abominable thing which
his searching eye has seen you cherishing in your bosom. And
if you have, in time past, lived in some good measure unto God,
and have had evidence, from your growth in grace, that the Holy
Spirit has not only come to you, but has made his merciful abode
with you, working in you both to will and to do; and if after all
this you now begin to be negligent of your spiritual concerns, and
to comply with temptation, and to yield yourselves servants to
unrighteousness; then, you may expect that want of life, that
dreadful insensibility, darkness and desolation of soul, which are
the certain consequences of the departure of the Holy Spirit.
But how happy are they, who watchfully avoid whatever would
grieve the Spirit and impede his work in Sanctifying the heart.
Only put away the hateful thing which resists his gracious sway
within you; only remove the obstacles to his transforming in-
fluence ; let the light from heaven shine upon you, and the dew
and the rain from heaven water you ; and how will all the humble
and gentle virtues, and all the sublime and godlike virtues flour-
ish They are all the fruits of the Spirit; and they will grow
and thrive in proportion as the Spirit blesses you with his pres-
ence. And with what pleasure will that Holy Spirit look upon
T EIA. T J E S U S S EI O U L D G O A. W. A. Y. 491
that beauty which his own grace has put upon you. Brethren,
if you “walk in the Spirit,” you will find it easy to mortify the
flesh with its affections and lusts — easy to let your light shine
before men, that they may see your good works, and glorify your
Father who is in heaven; — easy, in short, to be what those ought
to be, who are so favored as to live under this higher and more
glorious dispensation of the divine Spirit.
And now what remains but that we render constant thanks
to God, that the day of gospel mercy is ours; that we hear these
welcome truths, and behold these glorious objects. Jesus, who
once visited this world on an errand of love, has gone to his
celestial throne. But his departure was prompted by infinite
benevolence, and secures to his followers the precious gift of the
Holy Spirit in larger measures than had been enjoyed before.
Under this higher influence of the Spirit, far more is done for the
enlargement and prosperity of the church and the sanctification
of individual believers, than had been done at any time before
the ascension of Christ. And it is through this more powerful
influence of the Spirit, that we behold the glory of our invisible
Saviour. Though he has gone away from us in his bodily state,
we truly enjoy his presence. He is indeed in heaven; but he
is none the less here. We not only call to mind the wonderful
events which took place during his humiliation, but we follow
him to the courts above. In the exercise of a sanctified ima-
gination and a believing heart, we behold him on his throne in
the heavens. Through the influence of the indwelling Spirit
his throne becomes the throne of grace to us; and we draw
near to it, and find our Saviour there; and then we enjoy his
presence. We want no images, no pictures, no wooden cross.
Enlightened by the Spirit, we know and see the blessed Jesus
without any such help as these. We are better without them.
They are all too mean to set forth the excellence of our exalted
Saviour. They obscure his glory. We prefer the substance to
the shadow. We prefer the bright noon-day sun to the clouds
that hide him from our view. Jesus promised to be with his
disciples always to the end of the world. We deem it our hap-
492 CHRIST’s ABS EN CE EXPEDIENT.
piness to enjoy his promised presence here, till we go to enjoy
it more perfectly in the world above.
Thanks then to God, who gave his Son to die for us, and the
Holy Spirit to guide and comfort us and make us partakers of
his fulness. Thanks be to God for these unspeakable gifts.
A S E R M 0 N
DELIVERED IN THE CHAPEL OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, ANDOVER,
- JULY 15, 1832.
Gal. 6: 14.—BUT GOD FORBID THAT I SHOULD GLORY, SAVE IN THE CRoss
of our LORD JESUS CHRIST, BY WHOM (BY WHICH) THE world Is CRU-
CIFIED TO ME, AND I UNTO THE WORLD.
THE effect of the cross of Christ upon the believer is here set
forth in very impressive figurative language. “The world is
crucified to me.” It is like one who is crucified and dead. It
has lost its attractions. I have set my affections supremely
on Christ; and, comparatively, I feel no interest in worldly
things. The same idea is expressed, when it is said, the believer
is dead to the world. The opposite is always implied, Mamely,
that he is alive unto God. — The Apostle says also, “I am cru-
cified to the world.” That is, the world has lost its interest in
me as a follower of Christ. It turns away from me as though I
were a dead man. Thus the deadness is mutual. The World is
crucified and dead to me, and I unto the world.
. Here then we see what is the great fact in the gospel scheme,
and what is its practical effect upon the followers of Christ. It
is by means of the cross, that their hearts are withdrawn from
the world and set upon spiritual and divine things.
But we must always keep in mind, that whatever efficacy is at
WOL. W. - 42
194 IN FL U E N C E OF THE C R O S S OF C EIR IS T.
tributed to anything as a means or instrument, flows ultimately
and entirely from the appointment and agency of God. It is he
that worketh all in all. The influence of any truth is so far from
superseding the work of the Holy Spirit, that it includes it, and
depends upon it. -
Let it also be kept in mind, that it is not the cross of
Christ, considered literally and alone, which possesses the
efficacy here mentioned. To obtain any just conception of
this efficacy, we must consider the crucifixion of Christ in its
high moral relations. We must consider it as a measure of the
divine government; as related to God’s holy law, and his spir-
itual empire. We must consider what displays the cross made of
the holiness, the justice, and the grace of God; what aspect it
had upon his righteous administration; what representation it
made of the sin and ruin of man and the worth of the soul, and
what character Christ himself exhibited, and in what relation he
stood to sinners, when he endured the pains of crucifixion. When
we view the cross of Christ in such lights as these, we attain to
some just conceptions of the mighty efficacy ascribed to it in the
text.
Here, brethren, we are taught the grand secret of the Chris-
tian life, that life which is hid with Christ in God. Here we have
the principal means, by which believers subdue their sins, and ob-
tain a conformity with God’s perfect law. We have here the
principal means, and, in an important sense, the only means of this.
Other means in abundance have been invented and relied upon
in pagan countries, and even in Christendom ; but they have
all proved to be in vain. And we are brought by the experience
of ages, as well as by our own experience, and the Word of God,
to this conclusion, that the reformation of man’s character and
heart is to be effected chiefly by the cross of Christ. We can rely
upon nothing separate from this. But the doctrine of the cross, ac-
companied with the divine blessing, has an unfailing efficacy. If
there is anything which is really valuable in other means employed
for the renovation of man; it is all found here. And as to the other
means which God has appointed—it is their connection with the
IN FLU E N C E O F T H E C R O S S OF C EIR IST . 49.5
cross, and their being exhibited in this connection, that gives them
their saving efficacy. Their efficacy is all comprised in the cross of
Christ. Everything which has the nature of a motive, and every-
thing which renders motives efficacious — everything which mani-
fests the goodness and the authority of God — the excellence of his
law — the evil of sin and the beauty of holiness — the value of
eternal blessedness and the dreadfulness of eternal misery; in
short, everything which can lead the sinner to repentance, and
move the heart to gratitude and love, is found in the cross of
Christ. And its being found here is the circumstance which gives
it a true and Saving efficacy. — Take the very same thing as ex-
hibited in other ways; take, for example, the benevolence of
God. Prove it, as you may, by general reasoning. Produce
the evidence of it from the works of nature and providence.
Unrenewed men may feel the weight of your arguments, and
may be convinced that God is benevolent, and the conviction may
excite their imagination to a pleasant activity. But their hearts
are not subdued, and their love is not kindled. But when in the
exercise of faith they look at the cross of Christ and see the be-
nevolence of God displayed there ; conscience is roused, love
and gratitude are kindled, and the character is transformed.
Take another example, the evil of sin. From various consid-
erations with which the science of ethics is familiar, you may
clearly prove that sin is wrong in itself, and pernicious in its ef-
fects; — a disorder in the morai system — a perversion of our na-
ture, and contrary to the purity and goodness of the Creator.
IBut all this, presented merely in this light and proved in this
manner, plays only upon the surface of the mind. It leaves the
sinner coldly convinced, not savingly converted.
But let a man in the exercise of a lively faith, look to calvary;
and learn the evil of sin there. Tiet him learn from the suffer-
ings of the cross, how sin is regarded by a just and righteous
God. Let him see what it brought upon the holy Saviour, and
what it would have brought upon a world of sinners, had not he
died in their stead. Let him judge of the evil of sin from the
precious blood which was shed to atone for it. Now he is
496 IN FLU E N C E O F THE C R O S S OF C EIR IST .
awakened from his lethargy. Now he finds, that all which the
Scriptures declared, and all which the most terrible judgments
of God declare, is a reality — that sin is indeed “exceedingly sin–
ful.” And placing himself by the side of the cross, he is ashamed
and blushes to lift up his eyes to heaven, and with a broken
heart cries, God be merciful to me a Simmer.
Such are the effects produced by the doctrine of the cross,
when apprehended by faith; and such the inefficacy of moral
truth, contemplated in other ways. -
The mere philosopher may reason correctly about abstract,
speculative truth, and may please his imagination and his intel-
lect with its harmony and sublimity; but he lives and dies un-
der the bondage of sin. — The Christian contemplates the doc-
trime of Christ crucified, and the simple truths comprised in it,
and contemplates them in the exercise of faith; — and behold !
his fetters are loosened; he casts off the bondage of his corrup-
tions, and enjoys the liberty of the sons of God.
How was it with the Apostle Pauk? What did he do to bring
men to repentance and obedience : He preached Christ cruci-
fied. That was the burden of his instructions. And he always
referred to the death of Christ, when he would most powerfully
enforce any moral precept. He regarded the doctrine of the
cross as the substance and glory of divine truth; the great no-
tive, the main-spring of action in the kingdom of grace. The
Apostle had been a very learned reasoner in the science of morals
and divinity before his conversion. A thousand moral and reli-
gious truths had passed before his mind, and had been made
familiar to his thoughts; but they all left him an enemy to God.
It was the sovereign efficacy of Christ crucified, which at last pro-
duced the renovation of his character; — it was this that turned
him from pride and malice to humility and love—from persecu-
tion and murder, to a pious zeal for the glory of God, and a wil-
lingness to endure all things for the elect’s safe.
The Apostle Paul was sent forth to convert the Gentile world,
to turm them from their sins to serve the living God. In this
great work, what means did he use 7 He used the very means
IN FLUEN C E OF THE C R O S S OF C EIR IST . 407
which had been effectual in his own case. “He determined to
know nothing, save Jesus Christ and him crucified;” — and his
experience everywhere taught him, that the preaching of the cross,
was made the power of God to Salvation.
Now, brethren, I am happy to say to you, that the cross of
Christ has lost none of its heavenly virtue. It can produce the
same effects upon us, as it did upon the Apostle, and upon those
to whom he preached. It is invested with a sanctifying power,
which can never be exhausted. — This, I am sure, must be a
welcome, precious truth to the humble and contrite in heart; — pre-
cious to all who mourn for sin, and pant after deliverance from
it; to all who are burdened with remaining corruptions, and are
looking for some almighty efficacy to subdue them. Hear then,
and rejoice, ye humble souls, while I declare to you the healing
power. Indulge no feelings of despondency as to your success in
overcoming sin. Despondency here is utterly groundless and in-
excusable. Suppose that you have a thousand times resolved
against this and that sin, and all sin, and a thousand times en-
deavored to guard against it, but without success. Suppose you
have been long and earnestly laboring, in various ways, to be rid
of your spiritual diseases, but laboring in vain. What then 7
Was it not so with her, in the gospel, who tried many ways to be
cured of her disorder, and spent all her living upon physicians,
and yet grew nothing better, but rather worse 7 And how was
she cured 7 She was cured, by applying to Jesus. And how has
it been with multitudes, who have tried a variety of fruitless
means to subdue sin and obtain purity of heart, but who have
at last, in the simplest, easiest way, obtained success. And how
have they obtained success : By looking to Jesus, – by believ-
ing in Jesus. This way is open to all. Let your hearts then
swell with gratitude and joy, while I tell you, that there is a
sovereign remedy for all the evils under which you labor. There
is not a single spiritual disease, however inveterate — no, not one,
which may not be cured — and which might not have been cured
long ago, had you used the gospel remedy. Your spiritual mala-
dies may be such as to baffle the skill of all other physicians, and
42*
498 IN FLU E N C E OF THE C R O SS OF CHRIST .
may bid defiance to the highest human power. But there is a
power, that can subdue them. There is a remedy, that always
proves sure. Come then, ye who labor and are heavy laden —
come to Calvary — come to the cross — come with humble con
fidence to Christ crucified, and he will give you rest.
The cross of Christ — I repeat the momentous truth — the
cross of Christ, apprehended by faith, is the great and effectual
means of subduing the power of sin, of overcoming the world,
and growing in grace. It is the Secret Spring of a spiritual,
holy, and useful life. And this, brethren, is sufficient by itself.
It operates best alone. All means devised by the wisdom of
man, are here unnecessary, and out of place. If there is any
evil to be removed, by the cross of Christ, you may remove it.
If there is any moral excellence to be obtained, by the cross you
may obtain it. The humble, confiding Christian, who makes use
of this simple, gospel means, is successful above others in resist-
ing sin and in striving after Sanctification. If then you should
at any time be ready to yield to temptation and commit sin; I
would not go about to dissuade you by arguments suggested by
the wisdom of the world. I would point you to something of
more certain efficacy.—Look to the cross of Christ. There see
the holiness, the justice, and the mercy of God, the excellence of
his law, and the exceeding sinfulness of transgression. There see
the love of Christ, the atonement made by his precious blood,
the worth of the soul, the necessity of obedience, and the holy
nature of salvation. There see in blazing light, everything that .
can subdue and purify the heart — everything that can make sin
in all its forms an object of perfect detestation. Could you but
look with strong and habitual faith, to Christ crucified, the great
work would be done. You would become dead to “all that is
in the world,” “the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and
the pride of life.” Temptation would lose its power. And so
awake would your conscience be, so pure and holy the frame of
your mind, that you would rather be nailed to the cross, than to
sin against God. — O Christians, could we but have that faith,
which would make the cross of Christ a present reality, and keep
IN FL U E N C E O F T H E C R O S S OF C EIR IST . 400
us near it, and show us its glorious meaning and design; — could
we but have that faith which would bring us as it were to live
on Calvary, and to take up our abode at the foot of the cross;
what blessed effects should we experience Love to Christ would
become our ruling passion, and would constrain us to live, and
to labor, and suffer for his sake. And this sacred passion reign-
ing within us, would be a strong bond of union among us; so that
we should be of one mind and one heart; and all our intercourse
with each other would be marked with forbearance and kindness.
We should lay aside all malice, and guile, and envy, and evil
speaking, and love one another with pure hearts fervently. Our
supreme attachment to Christ crucified would withdraw us from
all the pursuits and interests of worldly men. It would make us
lowly in heart, circumspect, watchful, obedient. It would excite
us to fear and avoid the very appearance of evil, to be diligent
in doing good, to be holy, harmless, undefiled. And thus it would
become manifest, that by living near to Christ crucified and be-
holding his glory, we had been changed into the same image.
We have seen, brethren, what Christianity was in the view of
the great Apostle. We have seen what it was in its influence
on his character, and on the character of those who received it
from him. And thus we have seen what it is to be Christians,
For Christ crucified is the same yesterday, to-day, and forever.
And his religion is the same ; and whenever it is received by
faith, its influence is the same. It is not a subject which we may
begin and end in mere speculation or mere belief. It is a sub-
ject which relates to feeling and to practice. It comes directly
to the heart, and accomplishes its chief work there. — And if its
transforming power has not in Some measure reached our hearts,
then we are ignorant of its real nature; and it is of no more use
to us, than to those who never heard of it.
Let us bring this subject home to ourselves. Christianity is a
subject of a practical nature. The doctrine of the cross, which
is the sum of the gospel, is a practical doctrine. It is designed and
adapted to subdue sin; to make us dead to the world; to fill our
500 IN FLU E N C E O F THE CROSS OF C EIR IST .
hearts with all good affections, and our lives with all good actions.
How then is it with us? Let us examine ourselves by this test.
The cross of Christ may have been a subject of much inquiry and
discussion with us. We may have investigated its design, and
noticed its influence, and may have been filled with admiration at
its visible effects. But has it had a sanctifying influence upon
ourselves. If this is in any good measure the case, then we are
indeed Christians—such as Paul describes—crucified with Christ,
dead to the world, and alive unto God. But if, after all our con-
templations on the nature of Christianity, and all our means of
understanding its doctrines, and enjoying its blessings, it has had
no transforming effect upon our hearts; and if when we have
turned our eyes upon Paul and others, and have seen the full
influence of the cross upon them, we find an entire want of this
influence in ourselves; the voice of eternal truth will declare to
us, that we are not Christians, and that if we would ever enjoy
the blessings of the gospel, we must cast away, as dross, all we
have hitherto done in religion, and must become new creatures in
Christ Jesus.
A S E R M 0 N
DELIVERED IN THE CHAPEL OF THE THEOL. SEMINARY, ANDOVER, JAN. 8, 1843
1 John 4: 16–GoD Is LovE.
IT has been justly said, that this short expression of the
Apostle John gives us more knowledge of the character of God,
than all which has been written by heathen moralists and philos-
ophers. The views which they have entertained of the Supreme
Being have resulted more or less from their depraved dispositions.
They have formed a god like to themselves — a god selfish, im–
pure, false, proud, and revengeful. Now you may ask, would it
not be better for us to have no object of worship, than to worship
a god of such a character 7 It is, I acknowledge, very difficult to
make a just comparison between two evils, which are both so inde-
scribably dreadful. Think for a moment—if you can—what would
be our condition, if there were no God. How wretched should
we be, with capacities which could never be filled; with strong
desires which could never be satisfied; with moral disorders which
would admit of no cure ; all our pursuits, all our aspirings, all
our hopes, ending in total disappointment, the light of the Soul
extinguished, and the blackness of daykness spread all around us.
Thé heart craves an object which it can love Supremely and un-
changeably. But on the supposition just made, there would be no
5U2 G O D IS LO W E .
such ºbject. We want a friend in whom we can repose perfect
confidence. But there would be no such friend. We want a
benefactor, possessed of resources sufficient to supply all our need.
But no such benefactor could be found. Should we ascend up into
the heavens, there would be no God there. Should we descend
into the abyss, there would be no God there. Should we fly to the
uttermost parts of the earth — should we go and search the sun,
moon, and stars, and the whole extent of the universe, we could find
no God. And if no God, then no light, no resting place, no hope.
And what value could we set upon our own existence, when no
good end of existence could ever be attained. Take away God,
and we should choose not to eacist. Gloomy and dreadful as would
be annihilation; we should pant after it, as a relief from the more
gloomy and dreadful evil of existing without a God. We should
wish to put an end to our own immortal being, rendered so unwel-
come and intolerable; and, finding our wishes and efforts unavail-
ing, we should anxiously look about to find some one of superior
power who would do that favor for us, which we could not do for
ourselves. Where — we should ask — where is one in heaven or
earth, that has power to rid us of an everlasting existence, so bur-
densome and hateful now, though otherwise so precious 7
My hearers, I bring forward no fiction. You know that an
atheist considers the present life, which in his view is the whole
of existence, as of little worth ; and, when pressed with trouble,
has no hesitation to put an end to his life, and thus, as he'thinks,
to plunge into a state of annihilation. -
But there is no deliverance from the evils of atheism, by the
worship of any other than the true God. All the gods of the
heathen, and all the false gods of Christian lands are destitute
of divine perfection, and have the failings and vices which are
found in wicked men. Now how pernicious must be the effect of
worshipping such imaginary gods ! Everything faulty and vicious
in them will tend to countenance and increase what is faulty and
vicious in their worshippers. If the object of our worship is ma-
levolent and revengeful, it will inflame the malice and revenge of
any owe hearts. If our god is impure, it will increase and per-
G O D IS LO W E . 503
petuate impurity in us. Among all that worship a malicious re-
vengeful god, where can you find one that is free from malice
and revenge 7 And who that does homage to a god of an impure,
licentious character, avoids impurity and licentiousness himself Ż
We see then if we direct our worship to a god that is the subject
of depraved dispositions like ourselves, we are in double bondage
to depravity; bondage from our own hearts, and from the influence
of a corrupt object of worship. In such a case, repentance can-
not take place. In this respect, idolaters seem to be in a worse
condition, than atheists. Atheists are under the unchecked in-
fluence of their own vicious passions. But idolaters add to all
this, the influence of vice in the gods they serve.
Consider also the unhappiness of those who worship a false god.
In the object of their worship, they can have no complacency, no
confidence. The attributes of his character inspire them with
terror, or disgust, and their hearts are strangers to peace. *
And how can we escape this unhappy condition so long as the
object of our worship has anything short of infinite perfection —
perfection truly divine : Suppose we have any god, except the
God of Israel — any god, even the best we can imagine, who is
wanting in any of the perfections of Jehovah. Suppose that he
has power adequate to the work of creating the heavens and the
earth ; and also that he is benevolent ; but that he is wanting in
the requisite intelligence; that his knowledge is limited. Now if
his knowledge is limited, he is liable to very great and permicious
mistakes in managing concerns of such magnitude. Can we feel
confidence in such a god 7 Can we feel safe under his govern-
ment 7 Can we rejoice that he reigneth 7 How can we know
that he has contrived the plan of the creation right 2 What as-
surance can we have, that the great machine of the universe will
work as he wishes 2 One part may interfere with another; and
there may be dreadful disorder and desolation. There may be
some mistake in the formation of the mind, which required higher
skill than the formation of the material world. The mind may
not be endued with a sufficient number of powers and faculties;
or it may have too many; or they may be put together in wrong
504 G O D IS LO W E .
proportions. And after some more experience, the Creator may
discover some lamentable fault in his workmanship, and may
think it best to re-make the intelligent world, or to set aside the
minds which he has created, as unfit for use, and to create a new
set of minds on an improved plan. Or if this could not be done,
it might be a subject of everlasting regret to us, and to him who
created us, that a mistake, now incapable of being corrected, was
made in the first formation of so important a part of the universe.
|Besides, if the God that governs the world, is destitute of in-
finite knowledge; how can we be sure that he will govern wisely,
and will Order things in the natural and moral world so as to an–
swer the purposes of infinite benevolence : My brethren, what
peace could we enjoy if the God that made us, and that reigns
over us, though almighty and benevolent, possessed only imperfect,
limited knowledge.
Suppose then that we had a god possessed of infinite knowl-
edge, as well as goodness, but deficient in power. Such a god
knows what is best, and chooses what is best, but is not able to
accomplish it. He really preferred a different system of things
in the natural, and especially in the moral world; but that pre-
ferable system was beyond his power; and he was obliged to
take a system of inferior excellence, because he had not power to
adopt the one he preferred. And who can tell in how many in-
stances he has failed and will hereafter fail of governing the world
aright, not because he is ignorant of what is right, or is not dis-
posed to do it; but because he is wanting in power. We can
love such a god; but how can we trust him : We can have com-
placency in his goodness; but we cannot regard him as qualified
to govern — we cannot feel that our interests and the interests
of the universe are safe in his hands. It is in his heart to do
right. But to sustain such mighty responsibilities and manage
properly such vast concerns, transcends the measure of his ability.
ISut there is another supposition, and one which relates more
immediately to our subject. Suppose — if it is lawful to make
such a supposition — suppose God to be infinitely intelligent and
powerful, but wanting in goodness. Such a God knows all
G O JD IS LOVE 505
things, and his power is equal to his knowledge; but his power
and knowledge are both under the direction of malevolence. He
has a perfect discernment of that plan of creation and provi-
dence, which would result in the highest happiness of intelligent
beings; and he is perfectly able to adopt it, and to carry it into full
effect. But he has no disposition to do it. It is the best plan
for a moral universe. But the best plan has no attractions for
him. He has no kindness in his heart. He takes no delight
in what delights others. If he should see his creatures happy, it
would not please him. If they are unhappy, he has no compassion
for them. He could fill a universe with blessedness, if he willed
it ; but he does not will it. Nothing gratifies him so much as
the miseries of his creatures; — and the more miserable they are,
the more is he gratified. —Such is the God I have wished you
for a few moments to consider; — a God of infinite knowledge
and power, but without benevolence. And being destitute of be-
nevolence, he is destitute of every moral excellence. He has no
justice, he has no righteousness, he has no regard to truth.
There is nothing lovely in his character. -
Now what should we do, and what would our condition be, if
the God that made and governs the world were such a being as
this? We should have a god; but we should be wholly unable
to love him; and our inability to love would be in proportion as
we were reasonable and virtuous. If we are benevolent, we can-
not love one who is malevolent. If we are just, we cannot love
injustice. If we are benignant and kind, we cannot love what is
malignant and cruel. We should indeed have a god; but it
would be a god that we ought to abhor. And we should
abhor him, in proportion to our knowledge of his character. He
might command us to love him ; but the command would be
unjust ; and it would be perfectly right for us to refuse obedience. ,
To love such a god would be totally wrong; and if we should
love him, we should condemn ourselves for it ; for we should have
the unalterable persuasion, that we ought to hate him. But our
hatred would not be a quiet, peaceful hatred — as it might be if
the god we had in view were weak, as well as malignant. That
WOL. W. 43
506 G O D IS ‘ I O W E.
malignant being would be clothed with omnipotence. He would
be almighty in malice and cruelty. He would therefore be an
object not only of hatred, but of terror. Yes, every thought of
such a deity would fill our minds and all minds with hatred, fear,
and terror. Intolerable distress and horror and misery would
spread through the world, and through all worlds, under the reign of
such a god. There could be no peace, day or night, no moment of
repose through the wide creation, because there would be no possi-
bility of escaping from the presence of that almighty, malignant
being — that cruel, hateful deity.
Think, brethren, (if you can let the horrible thought pass
through your mind without impiety,) — what if the eternal God
were such a being as I have described 7 What if we were sub-
jected to the ceaseless terror and wretchedness of being chained
to the throne of such a tyrant, without any possibility of relief?
— There is no misery on earth, and I know not that there is any
in hell, that could be compared with the misery which we should
be fated to endure in such a state. •.
But oh! what glorious light breaks forth upon us out of this
thick darkness | What peace, what joy pervades our souls,
while we lay hold of the truth, the certain, blessed truth, that
God is love /– The only supreme and eternal Being, the God
whom we adore, is infinitely and unchangeably good. He has
omnipotence; but it is the omnipotence of love. He has infinite
knowledge; but his knowledge is inseparably united with benevo-
lence. IIe is eternal and immutable. But his etermity is the
eternity of goodness; and his immutability is the immutability of
goodness. He is a just God. But his justice is always in perfect
harmony with his love. He hates sin; but he hates it because it
is hateful ; and his hatred of it comes from a heart that is infi-
nitely benevolent. Whatever attributes he possesses, are in per-
fect agreement with goodness. And all that he does shows that
he is love. -
Such a God is the proper object of our affection. And as he
is Supremely good, he is the proper object of supreme affection.
Our whole heart and Soul should cleave to him, and rest in his
*
G O D IS LO W E . 507
everlasting kindness. We have the happiness to know–it is not
a conjecture—it is not a probability—we know that God is love.
We know that he looks upon his creatures with the purest, tenderest
affection, and delights to do them good. There is love, sincere love
in human hearts. But the sincerest, purest, warmest love ever
found in the heart of any man, or in the hearts of all men, is not
worthy to be mentioned in comparison with the love of God.
Human love is not always active. Even in the hearts of the
most affectionate parents, it has interruptions. But God’s love
is uninterrupted. It always exists in the highest activity. And
it adapts itself to all conditions and circumstances. If God’s
people are needy — as they always are—his love acts in the way
of a seasonable supply. If they are obedient, it acts in the way
of approbation and complacency. If they are in a state of
suffering, it pities. If they offend, it forgives. If they are de-
filed with sin, it purifies.
Human love may be sincere and ardent; but it is always at-
tended with weakness, and is unable to accomplish its kind wishes.
It aims and strives to make its objects completely happy; but it
has not power to do it, and frequently it is compelled to witness
great suffering in place of the happiness which it would confer.
If the affectionate father had power equal to his love, how uni-
formly and entirely happy would his children be But the love
of our divine Friend is associated with omnipotence; and no ob-
stacles can hinder its operations. God has power as well as dis-
position, to supply all our need, and to do exceeding abundantly
for us above all we can ask or think.
Having thus considered the benevolence of God as an essential
doctrine of revelation, I shall now consider it as a matter of
Christian experience.
Men in their natural state have no true spiritual discernment of
the transcendent love of God. Sin has blinded their eyes, and
made them insensible of the real nature and excellence of this
divine attribute. So that the experimental, saving knowledge
which believers have of the love of God, is a matter of discovery
508 GOD IS LOVE.
— discovery on their part, but spiritual revelation on God’s part.
I propose to consider this revelation and discovery in three periods;
first, in its commencement; Secondly, in its subsequent progress
through life; and thirdly, in its perfection in the world above.
First, its commencement. It is a truth often taught in Scrip-
ture, that unconverted men know not God. Whatever may be
their speculative ideas, they are ignorant of the true moral excel-
lence of the Supreme Being. They have no eyes to see his glory,
especially the glory of his love. Although they may, in different
ways, obtain a rational belief that God is benevolent; still they
do not see his benevolence to be infinitely glorious. They do not
discern it spiritually. Accordingly when they find that the apos-
tles were full of admiration in view of the height and depth, and
length and breadth of God’s love, they cannot understand the
reason of such admiration.
And besides this want of actual discernment of the goodness
of God, there is much which seems to unbelievers to be inconsist-
ent with it. They find it difficult to reconcile some of the doc-
trimes of Scripture, with infinite benevolence. That God has
suffered the human race to come into such a depraved, wretched
state; that he still suffers so great a part of the world to be igno-
rant of the gospel and to perish for lack of vision; that even in
Christian lands he saves only a small part ; that he requires so
pure and perfect a service, even of sinful men, and threatens so
dreadful a punishment for disobedience; these things, and others
things of like kind, obscure, in their view, the lustre of divine
goodness. They find difficulty also in many of the dispensations
of God’s providence towards themselves. And on account of
these ways of God’s providence and these doctrines of his word,
they frequently murmur against God, as wanting in benevolence.
Such is the condition of men in their unrenewed state. Sin
hath blinded their eyes to the glory of God’s infinite love, and
hardened their hearts against its attractions. What a precious dis-
covery then do they make, when God, who commanded the light
to shine out of darkness, shines in their hearts, to give the light of
the knowledge of his glory, the glory of all his perfections, espe-
GOD IS LOVE. 500
cially the glory of his redeeming lovel I speak of it as a discovery;
and So it is. For although they may have had some speculative
knowledge of divine benevolence, the evidence of which is every-
where visible ; yet they have never seen it as they now see it.
They have seen it in some of its outward manifestations; but
now, under divine teaching, they look through these outward man-
ifestations of the love of God, and see it in its own nature. They
see its divine beauty—its boundless extent. They now see God.
|Before they only looked at his common visible operations, at the
instances of good in his works. Now God himself is the object
of their vision. They have before heard of him by the hearing
of the ear. But now their eyes see him. And they see that he
is glorious in goodness. They see that God is love. And this
new view, this discovery of the perfect, absolute love of God,
extends itself to all the doctrines of his word, and all the ways
of his providence. Now, as I may say, they begin at God, and
descend from him to the declarations of his word, to his law, to
his gospel, to his government, his sovereignty, his dispensations.
They see God to be infinitely good. And then, in the light of
his own infinite goodness, they see the stamp of his goodness or
all his operations. Formerly they saw not the goodness of his
law. It appeared to them to require too much. Why? Because
they had no heart to perceive, the perfect, glorious goodness of God
himself. But as soon as men are divinely enlightened, and the
blinding influence of sin is removed, so that they have a true
spiritual discernment; they at once see that the law is good.
As they see God to be infinitely lovely, they see the perfect justice
of that law which requires them to love him. Surely, they say,
that is a just and good law, which commands us to love a Being
who is Supremely good. And they become satisfied in the same
way respecting all the commands of God, and all his proceedings.
Having a cordial conviction of the perfect goodness of God, and
a clear apprehension of the infinite kindness that dwells in his
heart, they see and feel, that all his commands must be right, and
that they ought most cheerfully to obey him, even when they can
see no other reason to obey but this, that it is God who commands.
43*
510 GOD IS LOVE.
And when they fix their thoughts on God, and see that his char-
acter is invested with the glory of infinite love, they become satis-
fied with all his dispensations and all the doctrines of his word.
In their illuminated minds, the glory of benevolence as it beams
forth from the character of God, is spread over all the truths
which he has revealed and all the acts of his providence and
grace. Those doctrines which once appeared to them the most
unjust and objectionable, now appear just and right, because they
view them in their connection with the perfect character of God,
in the light of his transcendent goodness. They rejoice that God
reigns, and will do all his pleasure in heaven and earth, because
they see that he is worthy to reign, and that all the ways of his
government are but the expressions of his boundless love. Their
persuasion of the righteousness and goodness of God’s word and
dispensations is not the result of reasoning. It is not produced
by logical arguments. Or if there is any reasoning about it, the
reasoning is very short. The premises are in close and insepa-
rable contact with the inference. It is a divine logic. It is the
reasoning of spiritual sight. Those who have this unction of the
Holy Spirit, clearly behold God in the glory of his love ; they
hear him speak; they see him act. And as it is such a God
that speaks, whether in the way of doctrine or precept, they know
that he speaks right. As it is such a God that acts, whatever
he does, they are sure he does right. It cannot be otherwise.
The conclusion is not a probability but a certainty. And this
full persuasion, this knowledge extends to all matters relating to
God’s ways, and the teachings of his word. It is the Lord ; let
him do what he pleases. It is God; it is Love ; for God is
Love — let him teach what he pleases—it must be true. Let
him command and let him do what he pleases, it must be just and
right. They do not say, if God does so and so, it will be unjust
and contrary to benevolence. They take quite a different position.
— Let us search the word and notice the acts of God, and thus
learn what he actually says and does; and what he says and does
we know to be right. Thus the discovery of God’s infinite good-
ness removes all objections and complaints, and gives rest to the
Soul.
G O D IS LO W E . - 511
But the discovery has its highest value in regard to Christ. It
relates specially and preeminently to the gift of a Saviour. See
how the Apostle treats the subject in the context. He says, v,
8th, God is love. He then adds: “In this was manifested the love
of God towards us, because God sent his only begotten Son into
the world that we might live through him. Herein is love, not
that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent his Son to be
the propitiation for our sins.” This was love in its most glorious
display. Those who are Savingly enlightened, are fully persuaded
of all this. Their inward, cordial conviction corresponds with the
teaching of the Apostle. The glory of God in the face of Jesus
Christ, is the glory of all his perfections, especially of his love.
Formerly, when the Sacred preacher or the inspired writer set
forth, in glowing language, the love and grace of God manifested
in the gift of his Son, they knew not how to understand it. It
was all dark and unintelligible to them. Now this instance of love
strikes them as exceedingly glorious. When they consider that
they and their fellow creatures are all sinners, and that God so
loved them as to send his Son to die for them — they are filled
with astonishment, and are constrained to say, verily, God is love.
And when they see this great design of divine love carried into
effect in the Salvation of those that are lost; especially when they
look upon the depth of their own guilt and misery, and humbly
hope that God has washed and justified and Sanctified them, and
that, with all their ill deserts, they are made heirs of everlasting
life; they have no words to express the emotions of their hearts,
and they can only say, O ! the depth of the riches of divine love .
It now appears strange to them, that they were ever regardless of
such goodness, and unable to see its greatness and glory. And
they look with grief upon the multitude of sinners around them,
whose minds are blinded and whose hearts are hardened, so that
they cannot see and cannot feel as John did when he said, “here-
in is love,” or as Paul did, when he spoke of knowing the love
of God which passeth knowledge. Their views and feelings har-
monize with those of the apostles. The truth of what the Scrip-
tures teach on this subject stands before them in a clear light.
512 G O D IS LO W E .
The sentiment of their hearts is, O that we had words to set forth
the riches of God’s love And sometimes they are constrained
to cry out, “glory to God in the highest; ” glory to the God of
love
I have now spoken of the first spiritual discovery which re-
deemed sinners make of the infinite goodness of God. I have
spoken of the time when the Holy Spirit begins to illuminate their
minds, when he first removes the inward cause of all their mis-
takes and murmurings, and makes it manifest to them, that the
God, against whom they have sinned, and against whom their
hearts have so often raised objections, is infinitely benevolent;
makes them understand and feel, that ‘God is love.
We now come to the second period referred to. The discovery
which is made at conversion, is a growing discovery. It is the
commencement of a light, which shines brighter and brighter in
after life. There is evident need of such increasing illumination.
Christians are indeed all taught of God in regard to the present
subject, from the commencement of their piety. At their conver-
sion God begins to teach them, and they begin to learn. But
they have remaining obscurity and error. Their spiritual vision
falls short of perfect clearness. They need to be more clearly in-
structed in regard to the love of God. And by his word and prov-
idence, accompanied with the influence of his Spirit, he is pleased
to give them the needed instruction. This he does on different
occasions and in different ways. -
Christians frequently obtain juster views of the goodness of
God as the result of afflictions. Whom the Lord loveth he chas-
teneth. And he brings them to know experimentally that he does
indeed chasten them in love. The fruit of their afflictions is, to
subdue earthly affections, to take away sin, and to promote spirit-
ual mindedness. Nothing is more certain to the mind of enlight-
ened Christians, than the goodness of God in their trials. They
know that they need chastisement. And such from time to time is
the effect of the trials which God appoints for them, that they can
say with the Psalmist, “I know, O God, that thy judgments are
right, and that thou in faithfulness hast afflicted me.” And seeing
G O D IS LO W E . 513
what is the design of God in their afflictions, and what happy
effects result from them, they reckon them among their choicest
mercies. And they render hearty thanks to their heavenly Fa-
ther, that he does not forget to chasten them. The most painful
dispensations of his providence, which once appeared so incon-
sistent with his goodness, and which sometimes have occasioned
perplexities, and hard thoughts — those very dispensations, in the
end, stand before their minds as expressions of God’s infinite
love. And when this is the case, how gladly do they yield them-
selves to the divine disposal, saying from the heart, it is the Lord
— the God of love ; let him do what seemeth good in his sight.
And so they count it all joy when they fall into divers trials.
They love God more for his chastisements. They have more ex-
perience of his paternal kindness. They cleave to him and rest
in his love with more confidence and delight. Their communion
with him is more intimate and happy. And they become so con-
versant in their thoughts and affections with the unchangeable
love of God, and so satisfied with him as their portion, that they
care less and less for other things. If they may but continually
taste and see that the Lord is gracious, and may truly enjoy his
love they ask no more.
But it is not merely by means of afflictions, that Christians
obtain an increasing knowledge of the love of God. They do
this in their devotional exercises. Sometimes they are favored
with the Spirit of adoption. They come near to God; they be-
hold his abounding goodness and grace ; they thank and praise
him, and make known to him the desires of their hearts. Truly,
at such times, their fellowship is with the Father, and with his
Son Jesus Christ. Then nothing is dark and perplexing in his
character and government. All the objects presented before
them in the spiritual world are invested with light and beauty.
In the house of God, in their retirements, and in the silence of
the midnight hour, they think upon God, and he causes his great
goodness to pass before them. He proclaims his name to them,
and shows them his glory; and they gaze upon it; and they re-
joice that he is, and that he is what he is, a God of boundless
514 G O D IS LO W E .
love. Christians Sometimes have this clearer illumination and
make this higher disgovery respecting the goodness of God, in
seasons devoted specially to fasting and prayer; and not unfre-
quently when they come near to the close of life. From time to
time, and in different ways, God so reveals himself to their minds,
and so manifests his glory, that they are ashamed that they ever
lost sight of it; and they are disposed to call upon all around to
join with them in exalting the name of God, and in celebrating
his eternal love.
Think for a moment how dark and how wretched are the minds
of ungodly men; to how many sufferings they are subjected, and
how their sufferings are made insupportable by their hard thoughts
of God, and their want of a peaceful confidence in his faithfulness
and love. Go where you will in heathen lands and in Christian
lands, and you will find that the world lieth in darkness. Un-
sanctified men know not God. They see no glory in his charac-
ter. And when they survey the measures of his sovereign provi-
dence; when they think of themselves and of their Creator and
Judge, how far are they from feeling, that God is love. This
blessed truth does not lodge within them. Amid the various
calamities of life, they have no refuge. They have no divine
friend, to whom they can reveal their Sorrows, and in whose sym-
pathy and love their hearts can repose. They have no God;—
or if they have a God, he is not like our God, the God of love.
But how happy are we, if we have been savingly taught of
God; if in the midst of all the evils which prevail in the world,
and which occasion so much distress and so much murmuring in
the minds of men, we may have such clear, overpowering evidence
of his perfect, unbounded goodness, as shall at once solve all our
doubts and difficulties, and reconcile all seeming inconsistencies.
Men are prone to go into curious inquiries respecting the evils
which exist, and to ask, how can they be consistent with the moral
perfection of God? How can the universal sinfulness of man,
how can the doctrine of sovereign election, the limited spread of
the gospel, the long delay of the conversion of the world, and the
final ruin of So great a part, and various other inscrutable things
GOD IS LOVE. 515
in divine providence; how can they be reconciled with the infi-
nite benevolence of God? They speculate on these matters; but
their speculations are in vain. There is a depth and a height
which their reason cannot reach. If any man thinks he is able
to solve these difficult questions by mere reasoning, he will find
his mistake.
Brethren, there is a more excellent way. We want a state of
mind — a light from above shining within us, which will supersede
the necessity of these speculative inquiries, and will settle it at
once as a primary truth, a precious reality, that God is love, and
that amid all the evils which exist, his love and wisdom reign;
that he means the most lamentable events for good, and will in
the end make them subservient to good. Happy, thrice happy
are they who have this inward teaching of the Spirit, opening their
eyes to behold the unchangeable love of God, and to see with
wonder and joy the displays which he continually makes of it in
all that they enjoy, and in all that they suffer, and in all the good
and all the evil that takes place in the world. Happy they who
have made this blessed discovery, and who make it more and
more clearly and fully as they advance in the divine life, and who
anticipate the time when the discovery will be perfect.
This brings me to the third period of spiritual illumination.
The highest knowledge of the love of God which we attain in the
present life, is imperfect. We see through a glass darkly. But
there is a time at hand, when we shall see God face to face.
How clear will be the light which will shine around us and with-
in us in the heavenly world ! In that celestial light it will be
made evident, that the complaints and objections of sinful men
were all groundless, and that the war they had been waging
against God, was a war of wickedness against infinite goodness.
The wicked themselves will see this, and they will stand guilty
and self-condemned before God. But this celestial light will
bring joy unspeakable and full of glory to the Saints. In the
world below they began to discover the love of God; they began
to experience the fruits of that love, and hoped they should ex-
perience them in larger measures, in the world above. Now
516 G O D IS L 0 W E .
they realize their most exalted hopes. They remember that they
began in the world below to taste and see that the Lord is good;
and they bless God that he opened their eyes to see his goodness;
and they wonder they did not see it more clearly. When they
cast their thoughts back over the scenes they passed through in
their probationary state, they see that their path from the begin-
ning to the end of life, was strewed with the fruits of God’s love.
They see, as they never saw before, the forbearance and good-
ness of God towards them, while they lived in sin. They now
see far more clearly than they ever saw in the world below, the
glory of Göd’s eternal and sovereign love, which provided a
Saviour for them, and inclined their hearts to receive him ; that
love which watched over them through their whole course ; which
strengthened them in their weakness; which delivered them from
the power of their enemies; which guarded them against the
ruinous effects of a deceitful and wicked heart; which restored their
wandering feet; which sustained and comforted them in all their
trials, and made them conquerors and more than conquerors.
When they look towards the pit of destruction, with a full con-
sciousness, that it is their merited portion, and yet find that they
are saved from it, and that an abundant entrance has been
ministered to them into the kingdom of heaven, and that they are
brought there, not by works of righteousness which they have
dome, but by the abounding grace of God; oh! what a clear
view, what a vivid impression they will have of the immeasurable
love of their God and Saviour ! and with what wonder and delight
will they dwell upon it. Their conception of divine love is so
much superior to anything attained to before, that it seems to be
a new discovery. It is indeed a new discovery; for they not
»nly see with greater clearness what they saw in part before, but
they see much that was concealed from them, even in their most
favored state on earth. They began to discover the goodness of
God when they were first enlightened. That was their childhood,
the first period of discovery. The second period followed the
period of youth; and through that period their knowledge of the
God of love was increasing in clearness. Now they have come
G O D IS LOW E . 517
to the period of complete manhood in the world above; that
world which needs not our inferior lights — because God himself
is the Sun that shines perpetually there, and the splendor of his
character fills the minds of all the inhabitants with perfect light.
And yet their knowledge of God will constantly increase, because
their capacity will increase; and their continual experience of
the blessedness which comes from the inexhaustible treasures of
divine love will make constant additions to their knowledge. This
is the heaven of the saints; to be forever with God, to behold his
glory, forever to love him, and forever to enjoy his love. This is
the life eternal promised to believers. This is the fulness of joy,
and pleasure forevermore. - -
WOL. W. 44
T W O S E R M O N S
DELIVERED IN THE CIIAPEL OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, ANDOWER,
º APRIL 21, 1844.
S E R M O N I.
Isaiah 55: 8, 9.- LET THE WICKED FORSAKE HIs WAY, AND THE UNRIGHT-
EOUS MAN IIIS THOUGHTS, AND LET IIIM RETURN UNTO THE LORD, AND
HE WILL HAVE MERCY UPON HIM, AND TO OUR GOD, FOR HE WILL ABUN-
DANTLY PARDCN. FOR MY THOUGHTS ARE NOT YOUR TIIoug|ITs, NEITHER
ARE YOUR WAYS MY WAYS, SAITH THE LORD. FOR AS THE HEAVENS ARE
HIGIIER THAN THE EARTH ; SO ARE MY WAYS HIGHER TIIAN YOUR WAYS,
AND MY THOUGHTS THAN YOUR TEIOUGEITS.
THE prophet here speaks in the name of God, and says:
“Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his
thoughts, and let him return to the Lord, and he will have mercy
upon him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon, or, as
it is in the original, he will multiply pardons, and then he adds,
“for my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways
my ways, Saith the Lord ; for as the heavens are higher than the
earth ; so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts
than your thoughts.” The Lord will abundantly pardon — for
his thoughts and ways are inconceivably higher than ours. This
then is the sentiment of the text ; that the mercy which God ex-
ercises in the forgiveness of Sin is eacceedingly above that which is
found in the heart of man. This sentiment we are now particu-
larly to consider. And may God grant that our contemplations
M E R C Y O F. G O D IN E O R GIW E N ESS. 519
on this subject may inspire us with devout admiration of the height
and depth of divine mercy.
Turn then your thoughts to this theme in which we are all so
deeply concerned, and consider in what respects the mercy which
God exercises in forgiveness, exceeds that which is found in
Iſla Il.
First. The mercy of God in forgiveness is far above that
which is found in man, in respect to the number of the offences
which he forgives. The prophet says, he will multiply pardons.
And the Apostle says: “the free gift is of many offences to jus-
tification.” . In this respect, God’s thoughts and ways are far su-
perior to ours. The spirit of forgiveness is contrary to our natu-
ral disposition. Unrenewed man, when insulted or injured, is
resentful, and meditates revenge. And even Christians find it
hard to forgive, especially if the offences committed against them
are multiplied. There is no part of the Christian character in
which we are commonly more deficient. When anything is done
to lower our reputation, or to interfere with our worldly interests;
how quick are our resentful passions to kindle ! And if, through
divine grace, we attain to a feeling of forgiveness towards a per-
Son, who injures us once, or in a few instances; how are our kind
feelings overcome, and our resentment excited, if his injuries are
, many times repeated. What a long struggle would most of us
have with our own hearts, before we could come to a feeling of
real forgiveness and kindness towards one who had, in numberless
instances, been acting the part of an enemy, and had plotted
and labored, to injure us. Even if he should repent, still how
difficult it would be to forgive and forget so many offences. Such
is man. How feeble and scanty is the feeling of forgiveness in
our hearts | And to how few offences does it reach.
Think now of the mercy of God. How high does it rise above
what is found in man | The sins which we have committed
against God, are more than can be numbered. We multiply our
offences. But God can multiply pardons still more. Our trans-
gressions abound ; but his forgiving mercy superabounds.
Secondly. The same appears in regard to the number of of.
520 TEIB. T. R. A N S C E N D E N T M E R C Y O F G O D
fenders whom God forgives. If we should get our hearts so
softened with kind feeling, that we should be disposed to forget all
the offenecs of a single individual; yet what could we do, if all
around us should become our enemies? What could we do, if
all the world should combine their efforts to vex and injure us :
Who of us would have a principle of love and forgiveness power-
ful enough, to meet half way such a killing emergency as this 7
How would the flow of affection within us cease, and our spirits
wither away, if only a small number of men, especially those who
have been the objects of our love, should prove treacherous and
hostile 7 Who would venture to predict that his benignant feel-
ings would hold out, and his heart be prompt to forgive in such
circumstances as these ?
Behold now the transcendent love of God! His forgiving
merey is large enough to reach to a whole world of rebels; and
it does actually reach to all believers — a multitude which no man
can number. God forgives a thousand, and ten thousand offend-
ers as readily as he forgives a single individual. He is never
weary of forgiving. After he has pardoned millions of sinners,
he is just as ready to pardon millions more. Verily this is not
after the manner of men.
Thirdly. God’s thoughts and ways are far above ours in for-
giving offences which have been long continued.
As to ourselves ; – though we may have a heart to forgive a
man who injures us for a few days; our forgiving temper is al-
most sure to fail, if his injuries are long continued. For a time,
we may indulge the hope that he will soon be sensible of his
error, and become our friend. But if we have long experienced
his injuries, and have long been impressed with the perverseness
of his disposition; our feelings are very apt to be disturbed, and
our meekness and kindness to give way to anger and ill will.
See now how different it is with the mercy of God. The whole
race of mankind have been sinning against him thousands of
years; and yet he continues to look upon them with a perfect
readiness to forgive. So it is in regard to every generation of
men; and so in regard to individuals. Let them sin ever so long,
IN T B E FOR GIW E N E S S OF SIN. 521
even to old age; he is still ready to have mercy upon them. And
if they are disposed to seek forgiveness in the appointed way, he
will freely forgive them. And if not, he will have the same mer.
ciful heart, as though he did actually forgive.—I lately knew
a man, who had been an enemy to God and religion up to the
age of eighty-three years. Through divine grace, he then thought
on his ways, and said, - “I will arise and go to my Father, and
will say, Father, I have sinned.”—The God of mercy met that
penitent, broken-hearted old man, and embraced him as kindly
as though he had sinned but a day. He rejoiced over him, now
returned from his wanderings, and welcomed him to his house;
saying, “This my son was dead, and is alive again; he was lost,
and is found.” Such is the long suffering and mercy of God!
And it appears, if possible, still more wonderful towards his own
children, who continue their offences, in one way or another, as
long as they live, and he still forgives.
Fourthly. God shows that his thoughts and ways are far above
ours, in forgiving offences which are attended with high aggra-
vations.
We may be able to overlook small, trivial offences, even a large
number of them, and continued for a long time. But suppose a
man commits offences of great criminality. Suppose he aims a
fatal blow at our reputation and our happiness. Suppose that,
with infermal malice, he is continually plotting our ruin; that
wherever we go and whatever we do, we are forced to encounter
the effects of his enmity. What feelings of impatience and resent-
ment are likely to get possession of our hearts; and most of all, if
that enemy is one whom we have often relieved in difficulty, and
always treated with kindness. How could we bear with his en-
mity in these circumstances, and still cherish towards him a
forgiving spirit.
See here how highly God is exalted above man! He is “the
Lord God, merciful and gracious, slow to anger, forgiving iniquity,
and transgression, and sin; ”—forgiving all kinds and all degrees
of sin–offences the most aggravated. Look at the Corinthian be-
lievers. They had been idolaters, fornicators, adulterers, thieves,
*
44*
522 T H E TR A N S C E N D E N T M E R C Y O R G O D
covetous, drunkards, revilers, extortioners. And yet God was
ready to forgive even them, and did actually forgive large num-
bers of them. They were washed, they were justified, they were
sanctified in the name of the Lord Jesus and by the Spirit of their
God. Look at the enemies and murderers of Christ at Jerusalem.
Whose guilt could be greater than theirs? And yet forgiveness
was to be offered first of all to them. Jesus directed the apostles
to go forth with the proclamation of pardon, “beginning at Jeru-
Salem, ” — beginning there among those who hated, and crucified
him. He regarded their extraordinary guilt, as furnishing an
occasion for the exercise of extraordinary mercy in their forgive-
mess. So it was with Saul of Tarsus, who was a blasphemer, a
persecutor, and a murderer — yea, a murderer of God’s own chil-
dren, and one of the chief of sinners. Yet God had mercy on
him, and forgave him all the wrong he had done. And Paul is
now exhibited before us, not as a Solitary case, but as a public
example of God’s wonderful mercy, a witness to all after ages,
that God abounds in forgiveness. You see, brethren, what mercy
dwells in the heart of God. Human sin rises very high; but his
forgiving mercy rises higher. Let the wicked, however wicked
he may be, forsake his wicked ways, and the unrighteous man his
thoughts, and let him return to the Lord, and he will have mercy
upon him, and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon. For
his thoughts and ways are infinitely higher than ours.
In the fifth place; God is distinguished above us by the perfect
freeness with which he forgives. As we have but little benev-
olence and much selfishness; we generally want some gift, some
special favor to help us in the exercise of forgiveness towards
those who have injured us. If any one wishes us to forgive him,
it is our way to say: Pay what thou owest; repair the injury
done.
But God’s forgiveness is perfectly free, “without money and
without price.” He requires nothing to be done by us to pur-
chase a pardon. God has no selfishness to consult; no unkind,
resentful feelings like ours, to be pacified. He does indeed re-
quire us to comply with certain conditions in order to forgiveness.
0. IN THE FOR GIW E N ESS OF SIN. 523
But he requires it for our good, not as a favor to himself. He
desires no favor; he necds none; he can receive none. From
the very nature of the case, the conditions proposed are indispen-
sable to our enjoying the blessing of forgiveness. Forgiveness
would not be forgiveness to us, unless we complied with the condi-
tions prescribed. So that his insisting upon the conditions, instead
of detracting from the freeness of his pardoning mercy, is only
the method he pursues to make us partakers of that precious
blessing. Every pardoned sinner will say, that the act of God
in forgiving him was perfectly unmerited and free. Indeed, the
way pointed out in the gospel, is the only conceivable way, in
which the blessing of forgiveness can be enjoyed. And surely
a gift is free, when all that is required of us is, that we should
be heartily willing to receive it.
Sixthly. Another thing which shows that God is highly ex-
alted above us, is the completeness of the pardon which he grants.
It is seldom the case with us, that we entirely forgive a person
who offends us. We may say, we forgive him; and from a sense
of duty, or a regard to our reputation or interest, we may treat
him with common respect and kindness. But do we from the
heart completely forgive him 7 Is there no bitterness of feeling
left 7 Or if no bitterness, is there no want of kindness 2 Is
there the sweetness of hearty love 2 Men sometimes say, they
can forgive, but cannot forget; — which is much the same as say—
Ing, they can forgive So far as outward appearances go, but not
from the heart; partially but not entirely. We seldom so com-
pletely pass by an offence, especially a great offence, that the
remembrance of it does not occasionally disturb our feelings. It
would be a remarkable instance of goodness in us, if we should
completely bury an injury, which had been wounding to our feel-
ings; —if we should so completely bury it, that it should no longer
cause disquiet to our minds. Should we thus entirely forgive a
few acts, or even one act of manifest unkindness and hostility; it
would be more than is commonly done; — shall I say, more than
is commonly done even by Christians? How then could such
poor, selfish hearts as ours, entirely forgive a great multitude of
524 TEI E T R A N S C E N D ENT ME R C Y O E G O D
unprovoked offences, committed for a long time, by a large num-
ber of unreasonable and wicked men — so entirely forgive them,
as to blot them out from our remembrance
But O ! the height and the depth of the mercy of God! He
sees all the sins which the whole multitude of his people have
committed — sins more in number than the sands on the sea-
shore, and like mountains for greatness; — sins ten thousand times
beyond what ever have been or can be committed against man.
God sees them in all their aggravations, and their long contin-
uance — sins of crimson color — sins so gross and horrible as to
make the earth to quake and to cover the face of the heavens
with blackness. The eye of God sees them all; — and yet he
forgives, completely forgives. As far, as the east is from the west,
so far he removes the transgressions of his people from them. He
blots them out from his book. He will never remember them.
He has cast them into the depths of the sea. He has so com-
pletely pardoned his believing people, that he will not suffer the
least accusation to be brought against them. He will not suffer
any one even to mention their transgressions. It is with this
exalted view of God’s mercy, in the complete forgiveness of his
people, that the Apostle so exultingly exclaims: “Who shall lay
anything to the charge of God’s elect 7 It is God that justifieth;
who is he that condemneth 7 ° Who would think of reversing the
sentence even of an earthly king, and of condemning those whom
he had seen fit to pardon 7 Who then shall take upon him to
reverse the sentence of the king of kings, and to condemn those
whom he has pardoned 7 Who shall lay anything to the charge of
those, against whom the Lord of all brings no charge, and against
whom he says, that no charge shall ever be brought by any one in
heaven or earth 7 Behold here, the reign of grace. God abundant-
ly pardons, and completely pardons; and he looks upon his people
and loads them with benefits, as though they had never offended.
This leads me to say, in the seventh place, that God’s ways
are above our ways in respect to the blessings he bestows on those
whom he forgives, and in token of his forgiveness.
Where is the man, who will not only forgive from the heart
IN THE FORGIVENESS OF SIN. 525
those who have done him the greatest possible injury, but will
enrich them with precious gifts, and make them heirs to his estate,
in common with his own children 7 Where is the man that would
do this 7 Where is the king that would take a rebel that he had
thought proper to pardon, and give him a place not only in his
house, but on his throne? Where is the king, who would do any-
thing like this 7 Men, even good men, are apt to be very sparing
in their favors to those whom they forgive. Their forgiveness is
a scanty forgiveness, and is followed by few or no acts of generous
friendship.
But O ! how different it is with a pardoning God . He not
only forgives his people, in the limited sense; that is, he not only
exempts them from the punishment they deserve, but grants them
favors of infinite worth. He adopts them as his children; and
has laid up for them what eye hath not seen, nor ear heard, nor
the heart conceived. He has made them heirs to an unfading
inheritance, yes, heirs to his own eternal kingdom. And by and
by, when the work of his redeeming grace is carried into full
effect, they, who were by mature children of wrath, and who know
that they deserve everlasting punishment, will find themselves
sitting with Christ on his throne in the heavens. They will not
only have the happiness of serving their blessed Lord, and enjoy-
ing his presence, but will reign with him. So glorious is the
mercy of God in pardoning and justifying those who believe.
I shall notice but one thing more, in which God’s thoughts and
ways are so far above ours; and that is, the work he has dome to
prepare the way for forgiveness.
When a man commits an offence against us, we expect that
whatever is necessary to be done to prepare the way for his for-
giveness, will be done by himself. If any one is to be employed
to intercede for him, and to help forward a reconciliation; we feel
that it belongs to him, not to w8, to provide such an intercessor.
Or if a sum of money is to be paid, or some special service to be
performed, to prepare the way for the forgiveness of an offence;
it is not according to our ideas of propriety, that the party offend-
ed should pay the money, or do the requisite service. We expect
526 T H E T R A N S C E N D E N T M E R C Y O F G O D
that the offender himself will see to that. Whatever is necessary
to open the door for us to forgive one who has injured us, we
stand up and Say, it is not for us to stoop so low as to do that
necessary thing. We say, that is the business of him who has
injured us, if he wishes to be forgiven. If any stooping is called
for, he must be the one to stoop. This is the manner of men.
But O ! how far otherwise it is in regard to the mercy which
God exercises in forgiveness. Mankind are the offenders. But
they are neither able nor disposed to do anything to bring about
a reconciliation. This apostate world never took a single step,
never lifted a finger, towards Securing forgiveness, or preparing
the way for it. The conduct of Adam and Eve after their fall,
'shows what is natural to man. They did not hasten into the
presence of God, and prostrate themselves before him, entreating
him to pardon them. They did not do anything, they did not
so much as think of doing anything, to procure forgiveness. All
they did was to attempt to hide themselves from the eye of God.
And this is all that a world of sinners would ever do, if left to
the promptings of their own guilty souls. They would try to
get away from the presence of God — to hide themselves from
the face of their righteous judge. It comes then to this ; that
God, the offended party, must not only forgive the offenders, but
must himself take all the measures which are necessary to pre
pare the way for forgiveness. Whatever is to be done to open
the door for the pardon of rebels, must be done on his part. If a
sacrifice is called for ; God himself must provide it. If a mighty
work is to be done to vindicate the authority of the law and the
honor of the Lawgiver; the Lawgiver himself must propose it,
and see that it is accomplished — not indeed by sinners, but by
one whom he appoints to act for sinners. Thus the business of
forgiveness in all its parts must be undertaken and carried for-
ward by God himself, or the whole world will fall under the pen-
alty of the violated law, and perish forever. The God of heaven
has undertaken it. And all that was necessary to prepare the
way for the pardon of offenders, the Being offended has himself
provided. And he has made all that provision, while it was
IN THE FOR GIVEN ESS OF SIN. 52ſ.
neither sought nor desired by sinners; and while they were all
the while rebelling against him more and more. This, I say, is
not after the manner of men. -
But, my brethren, what was necessary to be done, and what
has God actually done to bring about the forgiveness of sin?—Let
leaven and earth be astonished at this work of a merciful, par-
doming God. Here is the wonder of wonders | The world is lost
forever, unless the Son of God, more excellent, and more dear to
the Father, than all the creation— unless he is made the sacrifice.
Without the shedding of blood there is no remission. It is not
possible that sin should be forgiven in any other way. You may
as well say, it is possible that sin should not be sin, or that God
should not be God, as that he can pardon sin without this sacri-
fice. Herein is love, infinitely above the highest love that is
found in the heart of man. For did you ever hear of a man, did
you ever hear of any man, however good, that would give up his
own beloved and only son to die in the place of his enemies.
Herein is love truly divine.— See what took place on that dark
and doleful night, when Jesus was betrayed; and what took place
the next day on mount Calvary. There to procure our forgive-
ness, the Son of God is nailed to the cross. And on that cross
he hangs in agony which cannot be described, from hour to hour,
exhausted and faint with extreme anguish, cruelly insulted and
abused by his enemies — forsaken of his friends — and forsaken
of his God—till he has drunk the cup of wrath to the very dregs.
This is the astonishing method, which God takes to prepare the
way for divine mercy to flow forth in the forgiveness of our sins.
We see, then, to-day, and we hope to see more clearly and to
acknowledge more devoutly in ages to come, that the love of God
passeth all understanding ; that as the heavens are higher than
the earth, so is the mercy of God in the forgiveness of sim higher
than any mercy ever exercised or conceived by the heart of man.
528 TEIE T R A N S C E N D ENT M ER C Y O F & O D
S E R MI O N II.
ISAIAH 55: 8, 9.
This passage, taken together, brings out this sentiment, name.
ly; that in respect to the mercy which God exercises in the for-
giveness of sin, his thoughts and ways are as far above ours, as
the heavens are above the earth.
In my attempt to illustrate this sentiment in the former dis-
course, I noticed the following particulars; namely; the number
of offences which God forgives; the number of offenders he for-
gives; the long continuance and the aggravations of the offences;
the freeness and the completeness of the pardon he grants; the
precious blessings which he bestows on those who are pardoned;
and finally, the measures he adopts to prepare the way for our
forgiveness. In all these respects, we have seen, that God is
exalted far above man. - -
I cannot be willing to dismiss a subject of such consequence as
this, without calling your attention to some of its practical uses.
First. The transcendent mercy which God shows in the for-
giveness of our sins, should be an effectual motive with us to the
exercise of forgiveness towards our offending fellow creatures.
“Be ye kind,” says an Apostle, “tender hearted, forgiving one
another even as God, for Christ's sake, hath forgiven you.”
The duty of forgiving and loving those who injure us, is as I
have already remarked, a duty quite uncongenial to our natural
disposition. We may be convinced of our obligation to forgive.
It may be made perfectly plain to our understanding, that God en-
joins this duty, and that our present peace of mind and our future
well being require it of us. But when any one injures us it often
becomes a serious question, how we can bring our proud, Selfish,
esentful hearts to forgive. Now, so far as motives are con-
IN TEI E FOR GIW E N ESS OF SIN. 529
cerned, there is nothing which possesses such power, as the
mercy which God exercises through Christ in forgiving our sins.
Let us then look at the facts in the case just as they are. Let .
us take a view of ourselves as sinners. Let us call to mind how
many and how long continued have been the offences which we
have committed against God. Let it be impressed on our minds
how tremendous is the amount of our guilt. Let us see and feel
that we deserve nothing less than everlasting banishment from the
kingdom of heaven. Let us cease to murmur against the justice
of God, and become silent before him ; — or if we speak, let it be
only to say: “If thou Lord shouldst mark iniquity, O Lord, who
could stand 7” While viewing ourselves in this light, and feel-
ing, that we deserve to suffer the penalty of the law, let us hum-
bly and thankfully lift up our eyes to the God of mercy — to
God on a throne of grace, who has freely forgiven all our sins,
and delivered us from eternal death. Let us do this, brethren,
and what will be the effect upon us in regard to the offences of our
fellow-men 2 Why, their offences and injuries will appear too
Small to be noticed. They will all vanish out of sight, in com-
parison with the sins we have committed against God. And our
hearts will be so softened and melted by his wonderful kindness and
grace in forgiving our sins, that it will be very easy to forgive
the few offences committed against us. The greatest injuries we
have ever received from our fellow creatures, even from our bit-
terest enemies — what are they, compared with what we have
done against God 7 When we think of this, and look into the
heart of God, and see that he has mercy enough to pass by all
our offences, and to make us eternally blessed in his kingdom ;
how can we resent any injury, or feel the smallest degree of hard-
ness or unkindness towards any person on earth :
Or, if we should ever find this view of the subject insufficient
to produce the desired effect, aud our proud, resentful hearts
should need an influence still more powerful; then let us think
of the astonishing means, by which our forgiveness was procured.
Let us look to Jesus, suffering and dying for our sins. Let us
place ourselves on Calvary near the cross, and there behold the
VOL. V. 45
530 THE TRAN SCEND ENT MERCY OF GOD
Son of God enduring the pains of crucifixion, that the heinous
sins which we have committed against him and against his Father,
might all be pardoned. Such a view of Christ crucified humbles
the pride of the heart; it melts the hardness of the heart; and
according to the beautiful language of the Apostle, it helps us,
as the elect of God, to put on bowels of mercy, long suffering,
gentleness, and forgiveness. It helps us to feel — oh that we
could feel — as the blessed Jesus felt when he died for us; and
as he now feels, when, in view of all we have done, he says, “thy
sins are forgiven thee.”
Dear brethren, let us remember this. Offences and injuries
are to be expected from our fellow-men, and even from Christians;
and, in one way or another, we shall doubtless offend them. And
there will be constant occasion, as long as we live in such a world
as this, for the exercise of a forbearing, forgiving disposition.
And it will often be a very serious inquiry with us, what we shall
do to cherish and increase such a disposition in our own hearts.
Now there are many ways, in which we may do something towards
accomplishing this object. But nothing will be likely to prove
effectual, if we neglect the great motive which I have suggested.
Worldly wisdom and philosophy will not avail us here. We must
go to the cross. We must have the power of faith. We must
repose on the bosom of Jesus, our kind, forgiving Saviour. — Let
us them form the habit of looking at our own aggravated offences,
and at that astonishing mercy of God which pardons and Saves.
And let us form the habit of looking unto Jesus, and dwelling in
our meditations upon what he did and suffered to procure our
deliverance from the wrath to come. Whenever our hearts grow
resentful and hard, as they are so apt to do, towards those who
injure us, let us go immediately to God, and deal with him re-
specting the numberless sins which we have committed against
him. Let us renew before him our broken-hearted confessions,
and our repentance, and our faith in the Lamb of God that taketh
away the sin of the world. Let us renew our gratitude to God
for the blessings of forgiveness. And let us earnestly beseech
him to work in us all the good pleasure of his goodness, and to
IN TEI E FOR GIW E N ESS OF SIN. 531
make our hearts forgiving and kind like the heart of Jesus. If
we do this as we ought, we shall gradually overcome the Selfish,
revengeful feelings of our hearts; and shall, by and by, be pre-
pared to pray, as Jesus taught us to pray; “Forgive us our tres-
passes, as we forgive those who trespass against us.” We are
often afraid to pray in this manner, lest it should bring down a
curse upon us, instead of a blessing. How happy shall we be, if
we may but entertain such views and feelings, and attain to such a
state of mind, that we can consistently and safely pray: “forgive
us our sins, as we forgive those who sin against us!”
Again. The doctrine that God is so merciful — that he so
abounds in forgiveness, should eaccite our fervent gratitude, and
should encourage us in all circumstances, to repair to him, and
trust in him, as a merciful, pardoning God.
We can never get any just conceptions of the greatness of
divine mercy in the forgiveness of sin, or feel due gratitude to
God for that mercy, unless we have some just conceptions of the
amount of sin to be forgiven. Here we find the reason why men
in general, from youth to old age, entertain such low thoughts of
the pardoning mercy of God. It is because they have no proper
conviction of sin ; no just views of the greatness of their guilt,
and of the evils they deserve, as transgressors. This is the
reason why they treat the gospel message with such indifference,
and why the death of Christ and all the wonders of redemption
pass by them as trivial concerns. For what great importance can
they attach to the forgiveness of guilt so small as theirs 2 Why
should they be anxious for a reconciliation with a God, against
whom they have committed only a few trifling offences 2 What
occasion can there be for such a wonderful stir about the salva-
tion of men 7 What occasion for such deep counsels in the courts
above, such strange movements in the divine government, such
loud voices in heaven and earth, proclaiming glory to God in the
highest, and pardon to the guilty 7 What occasion especially for
the Son of God to come down from heaven and endure the pains
of crucifixion, to purchase forgiveness — while it appears to them
that there is nothing in their case calling for this, and that the sin
532 TIIF T R A N S C E N D E N T M E R C Y OF GO D
found in them is so small that it might be easily overlooked.
This all comes to pass, because, although they really owe a fear-
ful debt — a debt of ten thousand talents, it seems to them,
according to their way of reckoning, that they owe but a few far-
things. -
But as soon as sinners, under the teaching of the Spirit, have
their consciences awakened from their slumbers; as soon as they
are truly convinced of sin, and have any just conceptions of the
holiness and justice of God, and of the retributions they are to
expect from him a few days hence; oh! then, what fear and
anguish take hold upon them And how astonished are they at
the quietness and security they have felt, while the wrath of God
has all the time been abiding on them, and the abyss of endless
ruin has been open before them . To persons in such a state,
the doctrine of forgiveness is quite another matter, and to believe
in it is quite another matter. If with this view of the justice of
God, and their own ill-desert, they do truly receive the gospel
message of forgiveness; and if they repose such confidence in
that message of heavenly mercy, as to overcome all the decisions
of natural conscience, and all their inward terrors and fears; and
if they see the excellence and glory of the plan of divine grace,
and cordially embrace it; and if God is then pleased, in his own
way, to give them some tokens of pardoned sin, and they plainly
see that they are delivered from wrath — that God is their
friend, and heaven their eternal portion; how will such persons
feel, and what will they say ? “Wonder and joy will fill their
hearts, and praise employ their tongues.” “Come,” they will
say, “all ye that fear the Lord, and I will tell you what he hath
done for my soul.” They will call upon heaven and earth, upon
angels and men, upon Sun, moon, and stars, and trees, and moun-
tains to join with them in praising God, who has so mercifully in-
terposed to pardon their sins, and to save them from eternal
death ; and they will indulge the glad hope, that they shall ren-
der him purer, higher praise, when they arrive at heaven. -
But here not unfrequently comes in a danger to persons under
deep and distressing convictions of sin. When they clearly ap-
*
IN THE FOR GIW E N E S S OF SIN . 533
prehend the greatness of their guilt, and the terrors of the judg-
ment to come, they are often inclined to think that there can be
no forgiveness for them ; that their sins are so many and so
aggravated, and their depravity so deep and dreadful, that divine
mercy cannot reach them. While they are in this state, discour-
aging, desponding apprehensions rush into their guilty minds;
and although they have so often heard, that God is merciful,
and ready to forgive, they still think that their case is des-
perate; that for sinners like them, there is no hope. This is the
natural decision of an awakened conscience, which fixes merely
upon the evil of sin, the penalty of the law, and the demands of
divine justice, while the gospel message of forgiveness is not duly
entertained.
And not only awakened sinners, under deep convictions, but
Christians also, when they become duly sensible of their exceed-
ing criminality in backsliding from God, and in violating their
obligations to redeeming grace, or when they discover, more fully
than before, the unsubdued wickedness of their own hearts, and
the indescribable evils of their condition — such persons are all
liable, more or less, to fall in with the suggestions of a guilty
conscience and an unbelieving heart; — Suggestions which are
exceedingly dishonorable to the boundless mercy of God, and haz-
ardous to the interests of the Soul.
Now in regard to persons in such a state — it is important not
only to proclaim to them the great mercy of God, but to take
pains to lift them up out of their despondency, and to induce
them, in view of the unbounded goodness of God, to press through
all discouragements to his mercy seat, and, with penitent hearts,
to sue for pardon.
If there are any persons present, who are involved in these
difficulties, or exposed to them; — any who have such an impres-
sion of the numberless evils of their hearts and lives, that they
are ready to give way to discouragement, and to think that sin-
mers like them cannot be forgiven; – to such persons I beg leave
to offer a few remarks.
I would ask you, then, whether your desponding views and
45*
534 THE TRA N S C E N D E N T M E R CY OF • G O D
feelings are derived from the word of God. The Bible is a holy
book, and reveals a just and holy God. But does it shut the door
of mercy against convinced and broken-hearted sinners ? Does
it tell them that their condition is desperate 3 — When God pro-
claims his name, and declares that he is merciful and gracious,
forgiving iniquity, and transgression, and sin; does he set limits
to his forgiveness, and say, it can go so far, and no farther ?
When God says: “Though your sins be like scarlet, they shall
be white as Snow ; though they be red like crimson, they shall be
as wool; ” does he point to sins which are more than Scarlet and
crimson, and which cannot be forgiven 7 When the Prophet
declares that God will multiply pardons; does he say, he will ex-
tend his pardoning mercy to so many sins, and then stop 7 When
he pardoned Saul of Tarsus, and others among the chief of sin–
ners; did he signify, that there were any, who rose so much
above the chief of sinners, that they could not be pardoned ?
Tell me, distressed and desponding soul, does not God know
his own heart 7 When he plainly tells you that he is rich in
mercy, and delights to forgive ; does he say it to mock your
miseries 7 When he promises pardon to all who truly seek it ;
have you any reason to doubt the truth of his promises 2 Do you
despair of Divine mercy, because any sinner, even the most
guilty, ever sought mercy in vain 7 Are there not multitudes
now in heaven, who were once as guilty and wretched and help-
less as you are 7 And is the mercy of God exhausted, so that
he cannot pardon and Save as he did in days that are past 7
What more shall I say? Do you not know, that in this world
of mercy, where atoning blood has been shed, despairing thoughts
are very dishonorable to God 7 Can you think that you treat
your heavenly Father as you ought, when you doubt whether he
is powerful enough, or merciful enough to do what he has prom-
ised ? Remember my friends, that the God with whom you have
to do, is a great God — great in power and wisdom and holiness.
and great in goodness. He has riches of grace ; he has unfath
omable depths of mercy, an ocean of love. You may very pro
perly ask, who among the children of men, could forgive offences
IN THE FOR GIW E N ESS OF SIN . 535
like yours ? But you may look to God for compassion and grace
which is infinitely higher than any in the heart of man. There is
nothing more displeasing to God, than to call in question tho
greatness of his mercy, or its sufficiency for your Salvation. Better
doubt the omnipotence of God — better doubt his etermity, or his
infinite knowledge, than to doubt the riches of his grace. The
work of pardoning and saving sinners through the blood of Christ,
is a work on which God has specially set his heart. In this
work he intends to do such wonders of mercy as will fill the
universe with astonishment and joy. And if you who are so
sinful and wretched, will go to the throne of grace, and in your
humble confessions present before God a depth of guilt which
the human mind can never fathom, and will heartily pray the
prayer of the publican — “God be merciful to me, a sinner;”
he will say to you, “be of good cheer; thy sins which are many,
are forgiven thee.” He will certainly do this ; and it will be to
the praise of the glory of his grace.
But my dear friends, whether you will hear, or whether you will
forbear ; whether you will believe the gospel, or die in your sins;
—it shall be known to you and to the world, that God abounds
in goodness; that his mercy is higher than the heavens; and
that whosoever cometh to him, he will in no wise cast out. And
if at the last day — at the winding up of the present scene of
things — the Lord grant it may not be so — but if at the last day,
any of us or all of us, shall fall short of heaven; it will be known
to the universe, that it was our own fault, and was not owing to
any want of mercy in God.
T W O S E R M O N S
DELIVERED IN THE CHAPEL OF THE THEOLOGICAL SEMINARY, ANDOVER,
FEB. 9, 1845.
S E R M O N I.
THE CON WERSION . W HICH IS OF MAN.
Jeremiah 31: 18. — TURN THOU ME, AND I SHALL BE TURNED; For THou ART
THE LORD MY GOD,
THE Prophet here speaks in behalf of the Israelites. . He
acknowledges that they have been rebellious and refractory un-
der divine chastisements; and he is aware that they have a pride
and stubbornness of heart, which cannot be subdued, except by
a power above that of man. With this view of their guilty
state, and feeling a deep concern for them as the people of his
charge, he offers up the following prayer in the name of each in-
dividual among them : “Turn thou me, and I shall be turned ;
for thou art the Lord my God.” Turn thou me, and then I shall
be effectually turned.
This prayer expresses a sentiment, which is fully confirmed by
the current representations of God’s word, and by the experience
of those who are effectually enlightened by his Spirit. The sen-
timent is, that true, saving conversion is the special work of God;
and as such the servants of God are to seek it in fervent prayer for
sinners. e
SP URI O U S C O N WERSION . 537
There is evidently an implied contrast between that turning or
conversion which is the work of man and which is to be traced to
his agency, and that which is God’s work, and is to be traced
to his agency. I propose to consider these distinctly, in the two
following sermons.
First ; there is a turning or conversion which is man’s work—
a conversion which is accomplished by man’s agency, without the
Sanctifying influence of the divine Spirit. Such a change in
sinners is frequently mentioned in the Scriptures. Multitudes
heard Christ gladly, and did many things which seemed to be
right, who remained unregenerate. In the parable of the Sower,
a large class of persons are represented by the seed which fell on
stony ground, and that which fell among thorns. A remarkable
effect is produced. There is an apparent turning from sin.
But the change is not permanent and Saving. The Apostle
Peter speaks expressly of those, who have, in some sense, escaped
the pollutions of the world through the knowledge of Christ, but
are again entangled therein and overcome ; and what he after-
wards says implies, that notwithstanding their apparent conver-
sion, they were unchanged in their moral nature. There are
spurious conversions at the present time also-conversions which
are altogether the work of man. There is much seeming piety,
which has its origin in the will and affections of unsanctified
sinners. There is an abundance of religion without holiness.
My object is to show, that that conversion which is the mere
product of the powers and dispositions of unsanctified man falls
short of holiness, and that true, saving conversion does not spring
from this source. I shall endeavor to set forth in its true light,
the religion, the very best religion which is not ºf God, and shall
thus endeavor to take away the hope which sinners are so prone
to indulge, that they can attain to repentance, faith and obedience
of themselves, without the renewing of the Holy Ghost—a hope
which is all delusion, and leads to certain disappointment and
ruin.
It may assist our contemplations to consider a little what man
Čs ; not what he was originally, nor what he should be, nor what
538 TEIE C () N W E R S I O N
those finally will be who are renewed by the divine Spirit; but
what man is by mature—what he is in his degenerate, unsanctified
state.
It is too evident to need proof, that man is a moral, accountable
being. He has a rational mind. But his mind is perverted and
depraved. In other words, man himself, is depraved; he is with-
out holiness, and inclined to sin. He has conscience, understand-
ing and will. Sinning cannot destroy these faculties. Man's
will may be corrupt, and it is so ; his reason and understanding
may be, and are, under a wrong influence; they are misguided
and perverted. But they can never be destroyed. Man has va-
rious dispositions and affections. He has self-love; and he has
the relative and the social affections. He has desires after mat-
ural good. He has hope and fear, love and hatred, joy and
sorrow. He is susceptible of the feeling of reverence in view of
what is great, of gratitude for kindness, and of respect and admi-
ration for distinguished justice and magnanimity. He is capable
of discerning the natural beauty and fitness of virtue, and the
deformity of vice, and of feeling approbation of the one, and
disapprobation of the other. Such is man. He is a rational,
accountable, immortal being, without holiness, and without any dis-
position to holiness;– with a conscience which approves what is
right, and disapproves what is wrong, but with a heart which re-
jects the right, and cleaves to the wrong; with mental powers of
wonderful activity in regard to natural things; and wonderful
activity also in regard to things which are moral and spiritual;
though his activity is wholly under the influence of a wrong prin-
ciple, and directed to a wrong end. -
Now the single inquiry to which I invite your attention is this;
what has man accomplished in his present fallen state, when in
different circumstances, he has attempted by his own powers of
mind, to turn from sin, and to form himself to piety and goodness,
without the special influence of the Holy Spirit # It is a question
of fact. To what sort of conversion and to what sort of religious
character has man actually attained, and to what will he ever
attain in this way ?
W III C II IS OF M A N . 539
My general answer is, that man, in the most diligent exercise
of his own facultics, without special divine influence, never has
attained and never will attaim to real holiness. If the Bible is
true, and if all experience is true, real holiness, whether in the
form of repentance, faith, worship, or obedience, cannot spring
from man’s unregenerate mind. “The carnal mind”— which
is all the mind that unrenewed man has —“is enmity against
God, and is not subject to his law, neither indeed can be.” On
this account it is, that man must be born again; and this new
birth must be of God. If we could attain to a holy character
without this supernatural change, how would the change be ne–
cessary 7 All who are holy, will be saved. And if we could be
holy without being born of the Spirit, we could be saved without
it. And then the words of Christ would not hold, that “except a
man be born again, he cannot see the kingdom of God.”
Look into the mind of man, just as it is in its natural state.
Can such a mind of itself originate holiness? Can you expect a
being totally destitute of holiness, and opposed to it, will, of him-
self, become holy 7 Is there anything in unregenerate man—any
power or faculty of his mind, or any disposition of his heart, from
which true holiness can spring 7 Look at conscience. This is a
most important faculty. It is God’s vicegerent in the soul. It
speaks in God’s name, and with God’s authority. When roused
from its slumbers it speaks with a voice of thunder, as God did
from Sinai. But the same corrupt and stubborn heart, which
refuses to hear the voice of God from without, refuses to hear his
voice within. The voice of God uttered in the soul, by an awa-
kened conscience, and uttered with the highest authority, has no
more authority — it has no more power to command obedience,
than the voice of God uttered in his word, and in his providence,
and in the awful thunders of Sinai.
How was it in fact with the children of Israel, who stood trem-
bling on the extensive plain before Mount Sinai ? They had con-
science, and their conscience was powerfully stirred within them.
But the same corrupt and obstimate heart, which was deaf to the
voice of God from Sinai, was deaf to the voice of conscience. So
540 TEI E C O N.W. E. R. SIO N
it was with Judas after his base and criminal deed. His con-
science was roused, and he saw the wickedness of what he had
done, and his obligations to the Saviour. But his selfish, stubborn
heart no more yielded to the power of conscience, than it had
before yielded to the power of Christ's instructions and example.
It is a well known fact, that conscience, when roused to the
highest degree of faithfulness, has no power to change the heart
from enmity to love. This inefficacy of conscience is a matter
of common experience. But it comes out with special clearness
in the history of awakened sinners. Such sinners may at first
place much reliance upon their convictions of conscience, and may
think it will be easy for them to do what they now so clearly see
to be their first and highest duty. But they soon learn their
mistake. Their own experience teaches them the utter insuffi-
ciency of conscience to overcome the strength of corrupt inclina-
tions. Their desperately wicked heart stands against conscience,
and refuses to obey its dictates. While they know the will of
God they do it not. And the longer they continue under the
power of an awakened conscience, with an unregenerate heart,
the more clearly does it appear that they can never be fitted for
heaven, unless they have “the renewing of the Holy Ghost.”
Inquire then whether reason can turn the heart from sin to
holiness. Here we shall find that reason, in its most improved
state, fails of accomplishing the necessary work, in the same way
that conscience does. Man's reason may attain to the knowledge
of the most important truths, and these truths apprehended by
reason, would at once excite affections corresponding with their
nature, if the heart were right. But the heart is not right. It
does not fall in with these spiritual truths. They are not conge-
nial with it. And let them be ever so clearly and fully appre-
hended, even as clearly as they will be at the judgment day, and
let the obligations involved in them be ever so strongly impressed
upon the mind; the consequence will be, that the opposition be-
tween them and the unrenewed, carnal heart, will become more
and more apparent, and impatience and dislike of the heart be
more and more excited. So it has been in fact. Men of the
W H IC EI IS OF M A N . 541
highest intelligence, men who have had the clearest speculative
knowledge of divine truth, without the renewing of the Spirit,
have made no approximation to a holy character; but on the con-
trary by the habit of contemplating the truth, without yielding to
its claims, have grown more and more hardened against its salu-
tary influence. These are the men that our Saviour calls “the
wise and prudent,”—who yet have no saving knowledge. Their
hard and selfish hearts, resist the light. This deplorable fact is
strikingly set forth in the words of Christ to the unbelieving Jews:
“Ye have both seen and hated both me and my Father.” Jesus
had lived, among them. They had heard his instructions and
witnessed his miracles. They had seen him — and in seeing him
they had seen the Father also. But their hearts were not won.
And the unrenewed carnal heart never was and never will be
won to love and obedience by the most correct and powerful
actings of the faculty of reason.
But may not the sinner be effectually turned from his wicked
ways by the power of self-love 3 May not a desire of happiness,
together with a conviction that happiness is to be obtained only
in the service of God, induce a rational being, such as man is, to
engage in the service of God? This principle of self-love, is
indeed a very powerful principle ; and it would verily appear, at
first view, that one, in whom a supreme desire of happiness is
excited, and who knows that real permanent happiness can be
obtained in no other way than by turning from sin and obeying the
gospel, must at once turn and obey, for the sake of obtaining that
happiness which he supremely desires. Now why is not this a
just conclusion ? Why may not the sinner put away this and that
sin, and all sin, for the sake of obtaining that happiness which he
supremely loves?
My first answer is, that the inefficacy of self-love has been
clearly and thoroughly proved, as a matter of fact. In all sin-
ners, self-love is known to be the ruling principle. Now thou-
sands of sinners have been seriously convinced that the way, and
the only way to secure their own eternal happiness, is to repent
and believe in Christ— who yet have not repented and believed.
WOL. W. 46
542 TEIE C () N W E R S I O N
Self-love however strongly excited, has never in fact had an in-
fluence to induce men to turn from sin. It has not prevailed to
their conversion. It is very common for sinners to imagine, that
this motive is sufficient; that a serious regard to their own happi
ness is all that will be necessary to bring about their conversion.
But experience teaches otherwise. Clear evidence of this ineffi-
cacy of self-love arises from the case of sinners generally, who
have enjoyed religious instruction. I ask such a person — do you
not desire your own happiness 2 And are you not convinced, that
the way and the only way, to obtain real happiness, is to repent
and follow Christ? Why then do you not repent and follow
Christ? It is clear that the motive, which seems so powerful,
does not produce the desired effect. Whatever may be the reason
of this, it is a plain fact, that self-love, as it exists in unrenewed
men, has no efficacy to produce a saving conversion. This is
my first answer. *
I answer again, that self-love, as it exists in the depraved mind,
is not suited to produce an effectual turning from sin. It is not
adapted to this end. That self-love which exists in holy beings,
is a holy principle. They love themselves truly and impartially.
And they love one another as they love themselves. But in cor-
rupt minds, Self-love is corrupt. It is not a pure fountain. And
the stream flowing from a fountain cannot be purer than the foun-
tain — and it cannot rise higher than the fountain. An impure
fountain or spring is not adapted to send forth pure water. Self-
love in unregenerate man, has no tendency, no leaning to holiness.
It is not of such a nature, that holiness can flow from it. The
sinner, in the exercise of self-love, does indeed desire happiness.
But what kind of happiness does he desire 2 Does he desire a
holy happiness — consisting in the enjoyment of God? Can he
desire a happiness, which he does not love? And can he love a
happiness which consists in being near to God, without loving
God? The happiness which any one desires is always conformed
to his governing disposition or taste. The covetous, the sensual,
the ambitious, all desire happiness — that is, they desire gratift-
cation. But it is a happiness suited to their inclinations; it is
W III C II IS OF MAN . 543
the gratification of such passions as exist within them. No one
ever truly loves and desires any happiness, except that which
agrees with his inclinations. The happiness which the impenitent
desire and seek, and that which holy persons desire and seek, are
as different as their inclinations. The unrenewed are just as far
from truly desiring the enjoyment of God, which is the only true
happiness, as they are from loving God.
It is evidently absurd to suppose that self-love, as it is in fallen
man, will ever turn the heart to the love of God. For self-love
in the unrenewed is Supreme self-love. And to suppose that
supreme love of self will lead to the supreme love of God, is to
suppose that self-love will, by its own act, dethrone itself, and
give the supremacy to another affection which is opposite, and to
which the heart is a stranger.
And if the sinner's desire of happiness has no power to turn the
heart to God, certainly fear of punishment cannot do it. Fear
also is a powerful principle, and when excited has a wonderful
influence over the conduct of men. When united with holy love,
it is an effectual motive to obedience. But fear in the heart of
a sinner, is as different from fear in the heart of a Christian, as
any other affection is. And when it exists without love, it has
no power to beget love. A wicked man may fear punishment
from a ruler and a law that he hates, and that selfish fear may
hold him back from various crimes which would endanger his life;
but it can never turn his heart from hatred to love.
Some suppose that free-will is sufficient to turn a man from sin
to holiness. But you will see in a moment that this is a ground-
less supposition. For man’s will is as much perverted as any
other faculty. It is indeed free from everything like compulsion
or force. But it is not free from corruption. It is not free from
a wrong bias. It is altogether prone to evil. So that you can
never expect anything spiritually good to result from man’s will,
unless it is itself first renewed, and thus delivered from its evil
bias, and from the dominion of corrupt passions.
But there is no need of further argument. The word of God
decides this once for all, declaring expressly, that the requisite
change in sinners is “not of the will of man, but of God.”
544 T H E C O N V E R S I O N
But cannot a saving conversion result from the combined action
of all these natural powers? I answer no; — because they are
all, as truly as any one of them, under the dominion of sin, they
all lead the wrong way, and so far as they are of a moral mature,
they are all hostile to holiness. And what efficacy can the com-
bined action of hostile powers have to subdue enmity and produce
love 7 The active principles of the mind are indeed possessed of
a mighty power, and if under right direction, would accomplish
wonders of good. But under the direction of a wicked heart their
efficacy turns only to evil. And so it would be if their power
was increased to omnipotence, being still under the direction of
a selfish, wicked heart.
But principles of the human mind, corrupt as they are, may
produce and do produce astonishing effects. The conscience of
the sinner may be so awakened, his understanding so illuminated,
his desire of happiness and fear of misery so excited, that he will
abandon many beloved vices, submit to many sacrifices, and as-
sume the appearance and make the profession of a converted
sinner. The powers and passions of men may be so wrought
upon and their habits so moulded by a religious education and
other favorable influences, that they will exhibit to their own eye
and the eye of others all the characteristics of a fervent piety,
and will go through all the external duties of a Christian life,
and still remain under the dominion of Šin. What transformations
of outward character and what changes of feeling are often pro-
duced by impressive and inflammatory preaching, or by affecting
events of providence And how great is the power of the ma—
chèmery, or the religious manoeuvres which have often been used in
our country, to wake up the passions and to kindle what appears to
be feelings of devotion, without any change of heart. Multitudes
have been strangely affected in this way. Their minds, and some-
times their bodies too, have been mightily agitated. And hun-
dreds have been converted in a day, - converted in man's way,
and by man's power, and soon converted back again to open un-
godliness. And not less wonderful is the effect which may be
W H ICH IS OF MAN . 545
produced upon the minds of unregenerate men by the awe-inspir-
ing grandeur of a magnificent cathedral—by its dim light, its
burning candles, its affecting pictures, its solemn music, and its
various imposing rights. In such circumstances, the feelings of
a whole congregation of ungodly men may be so excited, that they
will at once kneel or fall prostrate in worship, and will to all
appearance at the time be as devout as apostles and martyrs
—and still retain their carnal mind, and go away and sin the
IDOI’e.
You see how it is with all that ever has been or ever can be
done by the powers and efforts of unrenewed man. Sinners may
indeed be converted, as thousands are, by their own power, or
the power of others. They may turn from this or that parti-
cular way of sinning, and yet not turn from sin;– as a covetous
man may give up dishonest means of getting money, and make use
of honest means, and still be as covetous as before. The kingdom
of Satan extends over a very large territory; and those who
belong to that kingdom may often change their place, and may
change their dress, and their modes of living; — they may go to
a great distance from where they once were, and their whole ap-
pearance may be altered, and they may put on the costume of the
saints; — and yet after all continue in the empire of sin. They
may even have “ another heart,” as king Saul had, and yet not
have a new heart. All this and more may come from your
natural powers and inclinations, impelled to action by matural
causes, while the principle of sin still reigns within you. You
may have the best conversion, the fairest form of godliness which
can result from what is in man without supernatural grace, and
yet be without holiness. Let conscience, let reason, let self-love,
let hope and fear, let the passions, let enthusiasm and superstition,
łet birth and blood and education, let means and measures, rites
and ceremonies, let the will of the flesh and the will of man—let
any or all of these do what they can, without the grace of God,
to turn the sinner from the error of his ways to the wisdom of the
just, and though the sinner thus wrought upon, may be called a
convert, and may have a name to live and may shine in the world’s
46*
546 - THE CONVERSION
3.
view, he is still dead in trespasses and sins and will fall short of
ſheaWen. - l -
S E R M O N II.
THE CONVERSION WEIICH IS OF GOD.
JEREMIAH 31 : 18.
IN the former, discourse I undertook to describe that kind of
conversion which is the work of unregenerate man, and is to be
traced to the principles of action naturally in his heart, without
the special influence of the Holy Spirit. I endeavored to show
that man in his unrenewed state, may be, and often is, brought
under such influences from without, and within, that he is actually
converted, or does actually turn, in a cervain way; that he expº-
riences a manifest change not only in his outward conduct, but,
in some respects, in the views and feelings and purposes of his
own mind; — but that the change to which he attains in this way
does not reach his great, governing principle—does not go to the
bottom of his heart; and that it leaves him still destitute of holi-
ness, and unfit for the kingdom of heaven. Such is the very best
conversion, which is merely the work of man, and which results
from the operation of the powers and principles of his own mind
and heart, without the renewing of the Holy Spirit. It is like
the house which was built on the sand; and the rain descended
and the floods came and the winds blew, and beat upon that
house; and it fell. Such is the nature and the end of the con-
version and the piety, which is of man, in contradistinction to that
which is of God. And such will be our end unless we have a
religion above the highest and best attainments of unregenerate
IEldºl.
W EII C H IS OF G O D . 547
e
I shall now endeavor to set before you some of the marks or
characteristics of that conversion, which is of God.
I begin by saying, that the work which God accomplishes in
a saving conversion has an intrinsic excellence, which clearly
shows who is its author. God always works in a manner worthy
of himself. But when he undertakes any work of extraordinary
magnitude and importance, and one which in human view is at-
tended with great difficulty, he takes special care, by the work
itself, and his manner of doing it, that his hand may be clearly
seen, and that all may know that the work is his. The saving
conversion of a sinner, is a work of such excellence, that it re-
dounds prečminently to the glory of God. The wonderful works
which God did in Egypt, in the wilderness, and in Canaan, made
it manifest, that he was Jehovah, the Almighty, and righteous,
and merciful God. And he is now constantly showing by his
works and dispensations, that he is God. But what work of God
has such excellence as the spiritual change which he accomplishes
in the sinner Creation was truly a great and wonderful work.
When God made the sun — when he said, let there be light, and
there was light, he acted like a God. But methinks the creation
of a thousand suns has not an excellence and glory like the turn-
ing of a sinner from enmity to love, from the slavery of sin to the
liberty of the son’s of God. Angels rendered praise to God, when
they witnessed the work of creation. But at the work of re-
demption, and the conversion of a sinner they cry, glory to God
in the highest. They rejoice over every sinner that repents.
And all the followers of Christ see now, and will see more clearly
in eternity, that the conversion of a sinner is to the glory of God's
grace.
That conversion, which is the work of the divine Spirit, has
nothing deceptive in it, like the conversion which results from the
workings of the natural man. The religion which is of God is
not an appearance but a reality; not a shadow but a substance.
It is not superficial or hollow, like that which is of man. It is
solid excellence. Conversions which are the mere product of
man's natural powers and dispositions, are to be seen everywhere.
548 T H E C O N W E R S I O N
But when rightly understood, they have no real beauty or ex-
cellence. They are not worthy to be called the work of God.
They are rather like the works of the magicians in Egypt, which
were imitations, though contemptible imitations of the miracles
wrought by Moses;– but they were the best that the magicians
could do with all their enchantments and juggling arts, and with
the help of the wicked one. Still they were all counterfeits, end-
ing in the confusion of those who wrought them. But when you
look at the works of God, wrought by the hand of Moses, you
See real miracles, works truly wonderful. You see the finger
of God. You cannot but say, that these are from God. Many
conversions have been brought about in our day by something
very like the enchantments and tricks of the Egyptian jugglers.
But they prove to be superficial, hollow, worthless things, a dis-
credit to the very name of conversions, and in the end a stigma .
upon their authors. But look at the conversion of Saul of Tar-
sus, and of the multitude on the day of Pentecost, and of the
Corinthian believers, some of whom had been given to the most
loathsome vices. Look at the conversion of Augustine, and Lu-
ther, and Edwards, and Brainerd, and John Newton, and Henry
Martyn and others of like kind. You will find them to be what
the Apostle calls them, God’s workmanship. Here, you will say,
here is something from above. Here is the finger of God. And
here, in the work itself, is the very image of God. This gives
it a manifest superiority over other divine works. All the works
of creation and providence show that God is the author. But
here a work is done, which not only shows God to be the author,
but does, in its own nature, bear the moral image of God. It
makes the soul of man a partaker of “the divine nature.” You
see that in every point of view, the true, saving conversion of a
sinner is far above that which is accomplished by mere human
power. It is a change of another and higher kind. It is a change
which a man never comes to by the very best operation of reason,
conscience, or self-love, or by the power of the will, or by the
desire of pleasure or the fear of suffering, or by the working of su-
perstition or enthusiasm, or by the dreams of imagination, sleeping
WHICH IS OF G O D. 549
or waking, or by human persuasion, either in the way of allure-
ment or terror, or by the mere influence of instruction, or educa-
tion, or example, or experience, or external rites, or events of
providence. A saving conversion is entirely above and beyond
what can be effected by any or all of these, without the divine
Spirit. It is a change to which no one ever attains, unless he
comes under the special operation of God.
But it must be remembered, that this special, Supernatural,
divine work, though so much above what the mere agency of man
can of itself ever attain, does not put a stop to man’s agency.
It puts a stop to his sinful agency; but at the same time it in-
fluences him to a holy agency. It changes his bad agency to a
good agency. The converted sinner continues to put forth as
real an agency, and as great an agency, as before. What then
is the difference? It is this. His agency now is of another and
better kind. The true convert wills or chooses as really and as
often as before. The difference is, he now chooses right. He
now has a will truly free. Before, his will was free from compul-
sion—free in every sense necessary to his being a moral, ac-
countable agent. But after all he was a slave to sin, and his
will was enslaved under the bondage of corruption. Now he is
free, and his will is free, in the best sense — free from the
slavery of depraved passions and desires. The work of God in
conversion emancipates the sinner, and emancipates his will from
this degrading bondage, and brings him into subjection to the will
of God. This is true liberty, “the glorious liberty of the sons
of God.
There never was a more palpable mistake, than to suppose, that
the efficacious operation of the Holy Spirit in the conversion of a
sinner interrupts or impairs his agency or takes away his freedom.
What converting grace does, is not to interrupt or impair a man's
agency, but to improve it, to make it what it should be ; not to
paralyze or embarrass the will, but to correct its irregularities,
and bring it to follow truth and righteousness, instead of error
and sin, to act for God, rather than the wicked one;— not to
take away freedom, but to give freedom — freedom worthy of the
e
550 THE CON V E R SION
name. This man never obtains of himself. He may change his
posture and his place, but he keeps on his fetters. He may act
with vigor — he may work hard ; but he is a slave.
I remark further ; that, in accomplishing the work of man's
conversion, God does just that which needs to be dome. A skilful
physician always aims to discover the nature and seat of the dis-
ease in his patients — to discover what needs to be done in order
to a thorough cure. And he well knows that, how far soever he
may be able to check or vary the outward symptoms or the visible
operations of the disease, he will fail of effecting a cure, unless his
medicine reaches the seat of the distemper and removes the radi-
cal evil existing there. Now in the dispensation of grace, God
undertakes to convert the sinner. And in this work of his Spirit,
he does that very thing which needs to be done in order to a
thorough and saving change. Now why or for what purpose is
the special operation of God necessary 7 What is the great work
to be accomplished, and which can never be accomplished, except
by the divine Spirit” I reply, first — if any one meeds such a
reply — that the special influence of the Spirit is not required to
make men moral, accountable beings; for they are so before their
conversion as much as after. It is not necessary, in order to
furnish them with any power or faculty of mind, which goes to
constitute them moral beings, or to put them under obligation to
obey the divine law; for they have every such faculty and are
under such obligation as really and as completely in their natural
state, as when renewed. The influence of the Spirit is not
always necessary to a man's outward reformation; for this may
be brought about by the exercise of his natural powers and dis-
positions. It is not necessary in order to excite strong emotions,
apparently religious and devout, such as Rosseau sometimes felt,
and such as many now feel in view of the natural beauty and
sublimity of divine objects, or under the influence of solemn rites,
or awakening events of providence. There are, as we have seen,
many and very remarkable things which men may do, and re-
markable intellectual acquisitions and external ornaments to which
they may attain, without regeneration. Very powerful and di-
W EII C H IS OF GO D. 551
versified are the operations of self-love, and natural conscience,
and the inclinations and instincts which belong to our mental and
corporeal constitution. The disorder which has seized upon us
does not destroy or supersede these natural principles of action,
though it perverts them. This disorder is of a moral or spiritual
nature. It affects us in our relations to God and his holy law.
It lies in the heart, the seat of moral action. The heart is de-
ceitful and desperately wicked. It is turned away from God and
is wholly inclined to sim. Out of this evil treasure of the heart,
Christ says, man brings forth evil things. Here then is the very
thing which needs to be dome, and which must be done, in order to
a saving conversion. The heart must be changed — changed
from enmity to love, from rebellion to submission, from disobe-
dience to obedience — from sin to holiness. So it is represented
in Scripture. God gives a new heart. He takes away the heart
of stone, and gives a heart of flesh. He gives a heart to love
God — a heart to believe in Christ— a heart to obey the gospel.
This is the great thing which needs to be done, and which the
divine Spirit does. Nothing else will answer the purpose. But
when God changes the heart — when he gives a new heart; the
essential work is done. There is a saving conversion — and
ultimately a complete conversion. The change, in its essence is
internal, but in its developments it reaches all that is external.
The cause of the outward irregularities is removed, and of course
those irregularities cease ; — they immediately begin to cease,
and in the end they cease entirely. This new heart, this new
principle of action, is “ the seed” planted in the renewed, and
which an apostle says “remaineth in them.” It is an abiding
principle. And ultimately they will cease to sin, “because they
are born of God.” This renewal of the heart is the commence-
ment of a spiritual change, which, according to its own nature,
and the appointment of God, is to be continually advancing, and
finally to be made perfect.
I have now touched upon another characteristic of that con-
version which is the work of God, namely, that it is a permanent
change. I do not mean that the change would be permanent,
•
552 THE con VERSION
independently of divine influence. But it is, in fact, permanent.
When God gives a new heart, he gives it effectually. He that
begins this good work, will carry it on to perfection. Its con-
tinuance depends on the same cause as its commencement; and
we could not know that it will continue, did we not know from
the word of God, that he will continue to work in the believer to
will and to do, till he is made perfect in holiness. That conversion,
that religion, which is “ of the will of man,” has no security for
its continuance. And if it should continue — if those who as-
sume the appearance and the profession of godliness without re-
generation, should persevere in their superficial, self-made reli-
gion — as some doubtless do ; they would still be numbered with
hypocrites and unbelievers. But the general fact is, that false
converts draw back, and thus make it evident that they are not
born of God. Their goodness is like the morning cloud and early
dew. Not so the goodness of those whom God turns by his ef-
fectual grace. They have within them an incorruptible seed.
They have a well of water, which never fails, but springs up to
eternal life. The divine power which works in them is superior
to all other powers and cannot be overcome. Their governing
affection, their principle of action, though opposed by so many
contrary influences, will hold out and be victorious, because it is
in alliance with omnipotence. God is greater than all, and no
one can pluck his people out of his hand.
My brethren, the subject which I have introduced is one of
great extent and of inexpressible importance, and I can do but
little towards a just and adequate discussion of it. I might go
over the common Scriptural views which are set forth by evangeli-
cal preachers and writers, and which are all of great importance.
I might say, that those whom God turns by his special grace,
have a new spiritual discernment ; and that they have an affec-
tion for God essentially different from natural Self-love, and en-
tirely above it. They have new desires, new hopes, new joys,
and new sorrows. They have new views of themselves, and of
the preciousness of Christ and his Salvation; and they live a new
and spiritual life. These topics are all important ; but I cannot
dwell upon them at the present time.
W EII C H IS OF G O D . 553
And now, my hearers, it must be evident to you, that all con-
versions, which are merely the work of man, are worthless in
themselves, and worthless and permicious in their results. Let
them be multiplied ever so much — let hundreds or thousands of
sinners be converted, in this way, in a short time ; and let it be
published and sounded abroad, that so great and wonderful is the
number of converts. If the conversions are merely the work of
man, they may for a time, be to the glory of man ; but they are
not to the glory of God. God will not own them. They are all
worthless, like chaff which the wind driveth away. A thousand
spurious conversions are of no more value than one, and one is of
no value at all. Every one is a counterfeit. And you know that
counterfeits are without value, and that multiplying them does
not give them value. The counterfeit coin is all cast away, and
the authors of it must answer for their dishonesty and fraud. A
minister, from mere love of honor, may desire a revival of reli-
gion; and may pursue such a course as will enable him to count a
large number of conversions. But conversions, without regenera-
tion, are entirely worthless." They are worthless to those who are
the subjects of them; — worthless to ministers, and to the church.
Spurious conversions are really worse than no conversions. In the
end, they are both worthless and calamitous to all cóncerned.
But, who can duly estimate the worth of a real, saving conver-
sion ? Who can tell what blessings are involved in it — what
peace and joy in this life, what hope in death, what blessedness
without end in heaven? Who can tell what a crown of rejoicing
it is to a gospel minister, and what benefits it secures to the church;
— what joy it awakens among the angels in heaven, and what
glory redounds from it to the grace of God . A minister, who
has added to his church hundreds of persons, who have been born
only of the will of man, has done nothing to purpose. His min-
istry has been barren. But if, through the grace of God, a gos-
pel minister may be the instrument of really converting a few
sinners, and preparing them for usefulness and comfort on earth,
and rest in heaven ; he will not have labored in vain. He will
stand and gaze upon those few souls, freed from the bondage of
VOL. V. 47
554 SP U R I O U S CON V E R S I O N .
corruption, and adorned with the beauties of holiness, once ene-
mies to Christ — now cleaving to him as the chief among ten
thousand, and striving to be like him ; — he will fix his eye upon
them as they move forward in the Christian life, and as they fin-
ish their course on earth, and as they go to enjoy the end of their
faith, the salvation of their souls; and he will be constrained to
say, oh! what work of God in the vast creation around us can be
compared in real worth, and glory, with the work of his Spirit in
the conversion of sinners |
And if the conversion of one sinner is of such excellence;
what will be the conversion of a great multitude which no man
can number ? What will the angels say, and what will you say,
when all nations shall be converted 7 You may have wept for
joy over the work of God, in the conversion of a beloved child,
or a dear friend, for whom you had travailed in birth. How then
will you adore and praise the grace of God, when you look from
the heavenly world, and see the whole human family turned from
sin and adorned with the beauties of holiness. What powerful
reasons then have we to come daily to our God and Saviour and
to offer up the fervent prayer for the millions who are perishing
in sin — turn them, O God, and they shall be turned. Amen.
G E N E R A L IND E X.
ABBOT, Samuel, Funeral sermon, W. 220–225.
ABILITY, II. 134. See agency, moral.
ABRAHAM, I. 287 ; II. 317; . . . his faith, W. 11.
ACCOUNTABILITY, assumed in Scripture, W. 22—84.
ACTIONs, moral, II, 78; V. 53, 74. -
ADAM, consequences of his sin, I. 238; II. 251, 347; IW 3.05;
... our representative, II. 316; . . . his sin, W. 135, 195.
ADDRESS, dedicatory, T. 5.
AFFECTIONS, moral, are they voluntary, II. 87; W. 78, 91;
. . defined, II. 89, 300; . . . anticipated, 115; . . . law of,
116, 121; . . . of the unregenerate, sinful, 119 ; . . . con-
trolled, 142; . . . classified, W. 37, 175; . . . control volitions,
89; . . . directions to inquirers, 93; . . . spontaneous, 186;
... right or wrong, 161, 192; . . . character of, determined,
187.
AGENCY, of man in writing the Scriptures, I. 104; . . . free
moral, consistent with divine purposes, 514—523; II. 158;
. . with moral necessity, II. 151; W. 123–148; . . . and
depravity, II. 294; . . . reply to inquirer about, W. 149–
199; . . . man a moral agent, II. 57 ; W. 130, 190; . . .
standard of moral good and evil, II. 60; . . . relation of to con
science, II. 67–76; . . . to sensation, 77 ; . . . to intellect,
556 G E N E R A L IN D EX.
78, 93, 109; . . . to volition, 80, 93–102; W. 72; . . . and
to affections, II. 103, 111; W. 98–103; . . . uninterrupted,
II. 164; . . . commencement of, 311; . . . does not limit the
power of God, IV. 379; . . . contrary choice, W. 123–145.
ANALOGY, dangerous in theology, I. 78, 275–281.
ANGEL, of the covenant and of Jehovah, I. 369.
ANGELS, called men, I. 293.
ANGER, ascribed to God, I. 83; II. 435.
APOSTLES, successors of, III. 492.
ARIANISM, I. 269, 270.
ARMINIANISM, I. 483. See Unitarians.
ASSEMBLY'S catechism, I. 452.
ATONEMENT, learned from the Bible, II. 888; . . . how to be
studied, 395; . . . nature of, proved by several classes of texts,
399–423; . . . sanctification, an object of, 425—431; . . .
described by metaphors, 435; . . . objection of Unitarians,
440; IV. 63—80, 267—280; . . . necessity of, proved, II.
444–449; . . . vicarious, 456—461; . . . a satisfaction, 467
—473; . . . the payment of a debt, .474—476; . . . an equiva-
lent, 478; . . . Christ's active obedience in, 482–489;...
extent of, 490–495; . . . proved, 497 . . . reconciliation of
different views of, 505—515; . . . Coleridge on, 522–535.
ATHEISM, W. 502. e
AUGUSTINE, his Christian experience, II. 573.
AWAKENED sinners directed, III. 26.
BAPTISM, a Christian ordinance, III. 809—316; . . . infants,
proper subjects of, 317–322; . . . its relation to circumcision,
328, 334, 415, 425 ; . . . its suitableness, 330 . . . proved from
Scripture, 339–391; . . . from ecclesiastical history, 394–
409 ; . . . its import, 429; . . . its utility, 482; . . . church-
membership of the baptized, 437 ; . . . duties to them, 440;
. . . the mode of, 444; . . . practical suggestions, 456–465.
BEECHER, Rev. Dr. L., his view of sin, II. 218.
BELIEVERs, their example, W. 215; . . . and future bliss, 339.
BENEVOLENCE, a duty, W. 266.
G E N E R AL IN DE X. 557
BIAS, see disposition.
BIBLE, standard of truth, I. 6—9; . . . contains mysteries, 27 ;
... inspiration of, see inspiration; ... its own interpreter,
256.
BISHOP, III. 505.
BORN again, see regeneration.
BRAINERD, his experience, II. 574.
BROWN, Moses, sermon on the death of, W. 265.
CANDOR, necessary in a theologian, I. 2.
CAUSE, remarks on, W. 104—148.
CHALMERS, on depravity, II. 213.
CHARNOCK, his view of regeneration, II. 541.
CHOICE, I. 462.
CHRIST, meaning of the word, I. 401, 404; . . . his departure
expedient, W. 478; . . . a person of the Godhead, I. 253—
260; . . . worshipped, 261; . . . the whole Scripture to be
studied for his true character, 266; . . . this principle often
disregarded, 268–273; . . . his relation to the Father without
analogy, 278; . . . humanity of, proved by different classes of
texts, 283—285; . . . objections of Arians answered, 286—
298; . . . connected with divinity, 300—314; . . . his person-
ality, 302; . . . prečxistence of, proved, 319—332; . . . proof
of his divinity, from his names and titles, 335–345; . . . from
his attributes, 346—349; . . . from his works, 350–358; . . .
from miracles, 359—363; . . . from future judgment, 364; . . .
from worship, 368–392; . . . his Sonship, 393—411; . . .
object of his mission, IV. 91; . . . his righteousness imputed,
III. 201–207.
CHRISTIANs, V. 300, 354, 452.
CHURCH, its government, III. 488. See government.
© C & e º e Dr. John H., sermon at his funeral, W. 324.
CLARKE, his argument from necessity, I. 205.
COLERIDGE, his view of original sin, II. 370; . . . and of atone-
ment, 522. - - -
COMFORTER, see Holy Spirit.
47%
558 G E N E R A L IN DE X.
CONGREGATIONALISM, III. 572, 574–577.
CoNSCIENCE, II. 67–89.
CONTROVERSY, IV. 1–4.
CONVERSION, exhibits divine attributes, I. 221; . . . use of the
word in, W. 204; . . . follows regeneration, II. 547 ; . . . of the
world, W. 354; . . . that which is of man, W. 536—545; . . .
that which is of God, W. 546—554.
COURSE, of theological study, IV. 549–578.
COUNSEL, see purpose.
CovENANT, defined, III. 419.
CREATION, mysterious, I. 23.
CREEDS, use of, I. 85–94.
CROSS, of Christ, to be gloried in, W. 494.
CULTURE, moral, II. 99—102.
DAY, on moral agency, II. 48; W. 130.
DEACONS, their appointment, III. 503, 518.
DEBTs, sins, I. 83; . . . ours to law, paid by Christ, II. 474.
DECREES, see purposes.
DEPENDENCE, of men and all things on God, I. 223; II. 42—47;
W. 170, 452, 460; . . . of Christ, I. 299.
DEPRAVITY, no valid objections against, II. 201; IV. 301; II.
204–208; ... proved, IV. 28–38; II. 211; . . . universal,
217 ; . . . different degrees of, 221; . . . total explained, 230;
. . established, 233; IV. 297 ; . . . native, IV. 298; . . .
defined, II. 237 ; . . . marks of, II. 238—246, 274–280; . . .
in infants, II. 269; IV. 128—158; . . . objections considered,
II. 271, 285–293; IV. 177—187; . . . terms, innate, heredi-
tary, etc. explained, II. 346–854; . . . other theories equally
objectionable, II. 356–367 ; IV. 197–201; . . . Coleridge
on, II. 371.
DESIRE, see affection.
DESPAIR, of sinners precluded by God’s mercy, W. 532–585.
DISCREPANCIES, in Scripture, apparent, I. 114.
DISCUSSION, theological, IV. 343.
DISPOSITION, V. 55; II. 143, 60, 62; IV. 133; . . . change in
regeneration, II. 539–549.
G E N E R A L IN DE X. 559
DISSIMILITUDE, see unlikeness.
D0CETAE, their view of Christ, I. 272.
DOCTRINES, how established, I. 49; . . . not to be rejected for
difficulties, 53–66.
EDICT, see purpose.
EFFECT, see cause.
ELDERS, III. 505.
ELECTION, I. 482; . . . personal, 483; . . . whether conditional,
485; IV. 49 ; . . . subject to no valid objection, I. 538—542;
IV. 55–59.
ELLINGWOOD, Rev. John W., sermon at his ordination, W. 377.
EMOTIONS, see affections.
ENTHUSIASM, II. 51, 110.
EPISCOPACY, see prelacy. -
Evarts, Jeremiah, sermon on his death, W. 280.
EVIL, see sin.
FAITH, defined, III. 79, 80; . . . grounds of, 81; . . . rule of,
82; . . . what it implies, 83; . . . evangelical, 85–90; . . .
Salvation promised, 91; . . . illustrated, 95—99, 127 ; . . .
imperfection of, 101 ; . . . growth in, 103; . . . prayer of, 122
—125. See prayer.
FARRAR, Phebe, sermon at her funeral, W. 338.
FASTs, Catholic and Episcopal, III. 569.
FATALISM, II. 16; W. 122, 127, 141.
FATHERs, their authority, III. 521—535, 568.
FESTIVALs, Catholic and Episcopal, III. 569.
FLESH, use of the word in Scripture, I. 271, 294; II. 255.
RORCE, defined, I. 72.
FoEEKNOWLEDGE, I. 507–511; II. 400; IV. 326.
FORGIVENESS, shows the transcendent mercy of God, W. 518–
527; I. 83; . . . by Christ, II. 399; . . . conditions of, II.
400, 402.
FORGIVENESS of injuries our duty, W. 528–531.
FOSTER’s letter examined, III. 269—307.
560 G E N EIR AL IN DE X.
GLORY, declarative and essential, I. 356, 390; III. 59.
GOD, his relation to us, I. 82; . . . unlikeness to men, 222—237 ;
. . . his existence assumed in the Bible, 194; . . . proved, 195,
204––207 ; . . . inmate idea of, 197; . . . able to prevent sin,
IV. 348—372; . . . is love, W. 501.
GOODNESS, see benevolence.
GODHEAD, I. 252—264.
GospIL, should be spread, I. 193; W. 354; . . . effect of, W.
172, 173. e
&OVERNMENT, of God, IV. 97 ; . . . of the church, III. 488; . . .
see prelacy and congregationalism; . . . of the state, III. 543.
GRACE, explaimed, I. 67.
GREATNESS, how acquired, W. 244.
HAIA, Rev. Gordon, sermon at his ordination, W. 353.
HALYY URTON, his Christian experience, II. 574.
HARMOA Y, of truth, I. 87.
HAWEs, Rev. Dr. Joel, sermon at his ordination, W. 386.
HEART, the state of, influences the conceptions, W. 465.
HEAVEN, nature of, W. 343–346.
HEWIT, Rev. Dr. Nathaniel, sermon at his ordination, W. 426.
HCLINESS, nature and definition of, III. 56; IV. 93, 295, 304.
HOUSEHOLD, baptism of, III. 371.
HUSS and Spinoza, I. 13, 14.
IDE, Rev. Dr. Jacob, sermon at his ordination, W. 377.
IMPURITY, see heart.
IMPUTATION, II. 371, 351; . . . of sin to Christ, 480; IV. 34;
. . of Christ’s righteousness to us, III. 201–207.
INCOMPREHENSIBLE subjects, I. 15, 17, 45.
INQUIRER, reply to, W. 149—199.
INQUIRERs, directed, W. 93.
INSPIRATION, I. 95–192.
INVOLUNTARY, II. 81; W. 43–49. See agency.
JENKYN, on atonement, II. 505, 512.
JUDSON, Rev. Adoniram, sermon at his ordination, W. 358.
G EN E R AL IND EX. 561
JUDGE, the unjust, I. 81.
JUDGMENT, I. 313, 364.
JUSTICE, see God.
JUSTIFICATION, III. 156—219; . . . explained, 156–170; . . .
nature, grounds and consequences of, 171–194; . . . distinct
from sanctification, 197; . . . by imputed righteousness, 201—
207 ; . . . Paul and James reconciled, 208—212; . . . no en-
couragement to sin, 213; . . . stated in creeds, 216–218.
LETTER to Mahan, IV. 524–534.
LETTERS to Unitarians, IV. 1—121; . . . on religious controver-
sy, 1–4; . . . on creeds, 5—12; . . . on divine perfections and
government, 13–17 ; . . . on the proper mode of reasoning in
theology, 18–22; . . . on depravity, 23–38; . . . on election,
39–63; . . . on atonement, 64–80; . . . on divine influence,
81–90; . . . on Dr. Channing's sermon, 91–99; . . . and on
the practical influence of orthodoxy, 100—121.
LETTERS to Dr. N. W. Taylor, IV. 343–453.
LETTERS to young ministers, W. 1—34; . . . on steadfastness and
progress in Sacred learning, W. 1–7 ; . . . on the limits of our
knowledge, 8–21; . . . on scriptural mode of preaching, 22
—34.
LITURGY, of the Episcopal church, III. 554–566.
LORD’s Supper, see Supper. *
LORD’s day, see Sabbath.
LOVE, of men to God, II. 90 ; . . . of God to men, 502; . . .
God is, IV. 13; W. 501.
MEEKNESs, in a Christian minister, W. 377.
METAPHORs, I. 79, 81; II. 435; IV. 66.
MINISTERs, their duties, W. 404, 413, 426; III. 18, 492, 585–
591; W. 377 ; . . . duties to, W. 227, 428 . . . their account,
385.
MIRACLES, a dissertation on, IV. 535–551.
MISSION, of the church, W. 356.
MOTIVES, influence of, II. 74, 130, 138—150; . . . the strong-
º
562 G EN E R A L IN DEX.
est, W. 111–121; . . . subjective and objective, II. 138;
. . . whether necessary, 147 ;
MUNSON, see Lyman.
MYSTERIES, I. 20–26; . . . no objection to Christianity, 30,
54–58; . . . in providence, W. 320.
NATURAL, defined, II. 556; IV. 159.
NECESSITY, whether a proof of divine existence,II.205; . . . of
atonement, II, 444; . . . moral, explained, I. 126–128, 147;
W. 190; . . . proved, II. 129–181; . . . natural and moral,
146; . . . case of indifference considered, 148; . . no valid ob-
ligation to, W. 138; . . . not fatalism, W. 141.
NEWELL, Rev. Samuel, sermon at the ordination of, W. 353.
66 Harriet, sermon on the death of, W. 364.
NOTT, Rev. Samuel, sermon at the ordination of, W. 353.
OBEDIENCE, Christ's, active and passive, II. 483, 484.
PANTHEISM, I. 265.
PARABLES, see metaphor.
PARDON, see forgiveness.
PATERNITY, of God, IV. 15.
PAYNE, Dr. George, his view of reprobation, considered, I. 501;
. . . of depravity, II. 214; . . . of regeneration, 542.
PELAGIANS, see Unitarians.
PENALTY, see punishment.
PERFECTION, treated in reply to Mahan, IV. 465–523.
PERSEVERANCE, the doctrine stated, III. 221, 225; . . . proved,
222–229; . . . objections considered, 231—240.
PHILOSOPHY, of mind, essay on, W. 36—103; . . . in religion,
iW. 348; W. 11; . . . should accord with the Bible, 83.
PLATFORM, the Saybrook, III. 574; . . . and the Cambridge,
575..
PORTER, Rev. Dr. Ebenezer, sermon at his funeral, W. 299.
POLYTHEISM, I. 250—264.
PBAYER, nature and duty of, III. 105; . . . efficacy of, 106–109,
G E N E R A L IN DEX. 563
112–116; . . . a means of the grace, 110; ... which it ex-
ercises, 114; . . . in harmony with Christianity and providence,
115; . . . how answered 116; . . . of faith, 121—141; IV.
484; . . . heard, III. 142; . . . qualities and circumstances of,
145—153; . . . forms of, see liturgy.
PRELACY, III. 490–552; . . . not supported by Scripture, 490
—515; . . . occasion of its introduction, 521—535; . . . apos-
tolical succession, 537—545; . . . influence of, 547—552.
PRESBYTER, see elder.
PRESBYTERIANISM, III. 572.
PROFESSORs, in Theology, their duties and dangers, IV. 345.
PROPHET and prophecy, I. 123.
PROVIDENCE, defined, II. 1; . . . proved, 2–4; . . . particular
and universal, 5–9 ; . . . qualities of, 10–12; . . . implies
present divine agency, 15–20; . . . proofs, 22—29; . . .
other views of, considered, 37–55.
PUNISHMENT, future and endless, maintained, in reply to John
Foster, III. 267—306.
PURITY, II. 136. See heart.
PURPOSES, of God, I. 459–564; . . . defined, 462; . . . desi-
rable, 463; . . . grounds of opposition to, 465; . . . proved,
468—471; . . . . extent of, 475—481; . . . election, 482;
... personal, 483; . . . whether conditional, 491,494; . . . qual-
ities of, 486, 496; . . . reprobation, 500; . . . proved, 503,
507; ... relation to foreknowledge, 508—511; . . . objections
considered, 518–543; II. 158—160; . . . proper mode of
teaching, I. 546—564.
QUOTATIONS. see inspiration.
REASON, an insufficient guide, I. 7–9 ; . . . not contrary to
Scripture 32; . . . progressive,41;...province of, respecting re-
demption, II. 393.
REGENERATION, its nature, II, 587–549; III. 1–10; . . .
Holy Spirit the author of, II. 557–570; . . . not from self-
love, II. 561—569; . . . by direct divine influence, III. 1
564 GENERAL INDEX.
—10; . . . unregenerate doings, 21, 23; . . . directions to sin-
mers, 26; . . . evidences of, 44–51.
REPENTANCE, nature of, III. 68–77; . . . duty of, III. 21.
REPROBATION, see purposes.
REPUTATION, importance of to a minister, V.426.
RICE, Rev. Luther, Sermon at his ordination, W. 353.
RULES, for the study of divine subjects, I. 41–66.
SABBATH, divinely appointed, and how to be sanctified, III. 476
—486.
SABELLIANISM, I. 276, 443.
SACRAMENT, explained, III. 308. See supper and baptism.
SALVATION, II. 495, 497.
SANCTIFICATION, see perfection.
SIN, overruled for good, I. 240. See depravity; . . . necessary
means of the greatest good, IV. 371,413.
SMITH, Rev. Thomas M., sermon at his ordination, W. 440.
SPINOZA and Huss, I. 12, 13.
SPIRIT, the Holy, his divinity, I. 413; . . . and personality, 414
—422; . . . advent of, W. 482.
SPRING, Rev. Dr. Samuel, sermon at his funeral, W. 227.
SOCINIANS, see Unitarians.
SoN of God, see Christ.
STUDY, course of, in theology, IV. 549–578.
SUASION, moral, II. 119; III. 1—20; IV. 375; W. 172.
SUBMISSION, to God, useful, I. 588.
SUCCESSION, see prelacy.
SUPERNATURAL, II. 556, 557.
SUPPER, the Lord’s, III. 466–473; IV. 578.
SUSCEPTIBILITY, II. 89; W. 69.
SYMINGTON, his view of atonement, considered, II. 505–510.
SYSTEM, the present, I, 21; . . . in theology reasonable and ad-
vantageous, I. 85, 92.
TASTE, W. 151.
TAYLOR, Rev. Dr. N. W., letters to, IV. 343–453.
GENERAL INDEX. 565
TEMPTATION, W. 183.
TERMS, explained, I. 67. \
TRANSGRESSION, see sin. -
TRINITY, explained, I. 73,432; . . . how to be studied and taught,
265; . . . faith of early Christians in, I. 437–440; . . . failure
of philosophical speculations, 441–448; . . . how expressed in
the assembly’s catechism, 452; . . . importance of the doctrine,
455—458.
USEFULNESs of Christians, W. 281.
UNION, the duty of ministers, W. 407. .
UNITY, the divine, IV. 9; I. 61'; ... consistent with plurality, I.
243; . . . illustrated and proved, 246—253.
UNITARIANs, I. 91, 253, 255, 263;II. 425, 440; IV. 128—231.
See letters to.
UNIVERSALISTS, their use of the word Father, I. 82. See Uni-
tarian and punishment.
WICARIOUS, see atonement.
VIRTUE, see holiness.
WOLITION, considered, II. 80–89, 300; W. 42. See agency.
VolunTARY, explained, II. 81, 82, 87, 301; W. 43–49.
WARDLAW, quotations from, I. 328, 359, 366.
WARE, Dr., letters, IV. 1–121; ... reply to his letters, 125–289;
. . remarks on his answer, 294—339. -
WILL, of God, I. 462, (see purpose,) of man defined, II. 81,298;
W. 42–50, 188; . . . Scripture use of the word, II. 83; its
relations to the affections, 87, 93—102; W. 72, 7.8, 169; . . .
power of, ascertained, II. 135; W. 73; . . . free, W. 97.
WOODs, Rev. Dr. Alva, sermon at his ordination, W. 395.
WOODBURY, Rev. Benjamin, sermon at the ordination of, W. 412.
WORCESTER, Rev. Dr. Samuel, sermon on the death of, W. 242.
WoRD, of God, W. 200–211.
WOL. W. 48
Genesis,
Exodus,
: 9–11
: 24
22:
Leviticus,18:
26:
Numbers,25:
l)cuter. 2:
27:
32:
Joshua, 11:
1 Samuel,29:
2 Chron. 30:
Ezra, 6:
7
28
Psalms, 8:
16:
32:
32:
40:
51:
51:
58:
11, 12
ge e
II. 169 Isaiah, 6:
1 I:
Wol. Page.
II. 2] S
III. 212
IV. 24, 205
IV. 28
II. 217
IV. 25
III. 419
III. 212
I. 140
III. 334
III. 21 1
I. 480
I. 336,480
º 480
IV. 185
III. 480
I. 4S0
III. 480
III. 480
I. 347
I. 337
III. 161
I. 132
I. 172
I. 521
III. 162
I. 252
I. 522
II. 423
I 462
I. 462
I. 462
I 141
I. I 19
I. 140
III. 174
II. 483
I. 129
II. 259
II. T59
40:
44:
45:
Jeremiah, 16:
17:
17:
32:
Danicl, 12:
Matthew, 2:
15:
Mark, 4:
INDEX OF TEXTS.
Vol. Page.
1—10 I. 220,345
2, 3 I. 289
3 I. 345
6 I. 347
5, 6, 7–22 I. 250,252
9 IV. 31
9 II. 217
10 I. 348
40 III. 226
8—12 I. 121 174
17, 18 I. 127
23 I. 130
16 III. 448
24 II. 423
12 IV. 71
7, 8 III. 122
24, 25 I. 308
19, 20 I. 175
3, 4 III. 483
31, 32 I. 416
34 II. 174.184
: 37 III. 912
7, 8, 9 I. 128
10 II. 333
13–17 I. 3.71
7 II. 147
1–6 III.357, 359,363
: 15, 17 III. 508
: 18 III. 494
: 14 IV. 148
: 13, 14 III.355–367
: 23–33 III. 250
: 23 III, 445
: 54 II. 447
33 III. 358
2 III. 358
: 4 III. 445
: 31 II. 447
: 14 IV. I 50
: 15 III. 363
: 27 IV. 406
IN D E X OIE T E X T S. 567
*•
Vol. Page. Vol. Page
11: 23, 24 III. 138 5: 3—4 I. 4l6
12: 29 I. 252 7: 8 III. 420
Luke, 1: 16, 17 I. 343 7: 51 I 4 17
1: 35 I. 406 7: 59, 60 I 375
I: 72 III. 419 8: 3 III. 448
2: 1 I. 462 8: 37 I. 404
4: 40, 52 I. 286 11: i III 448
9: 6 III. 358 13: 2—4 I 4 16
13: 2 III. 35S 13: 32, 33 I 406
16: 17, 18 III. 159 18: 35—37 I. 120
17: 1 II. 147 18: 38, 39 III. 159
18: ll, 12 III. 159 13: 48 I. 484
18: 15, 16 III. 355 15: 9 III. 100
22: 43 I. 2S8 15: III. 5] ()
24: 7 II. 447 15: 1 III. 388
24: 27, 44 I. 136 16: 4 I. 462
John, 1: 1 I. 323,335 16: 14, 15, 33 III. 370
l: 1—3 I. 324 16: 19 III. 448
1: 1, 14 I. 330 20: III. 516
I: 46 I. 130 21: 13 II. 416
3: 1—7 IV. 32 23: 8 III. 250
3: 16 III. 4 | Romams, 1: 7 I. 386
3: 16 II. 497 1: 20 I. 205
3: 1—7 II. 227 2: 13 III. 212
8: 6 II. 255 3: 9 IV. 26
3: 14 II. 447 3: 12—19 II. 2] 7
3: 23 III. 447 3: 20—24 III. 160, 163
8: 36 III. 227 3: 24 III. 182
4: 10—19 IV. 252 3: 24, 25, 26 IV. 77
5: 18 I 34 l 3: 25 II. 423, 462
5: 24 III. 297 4: 3 I. 140
5: 25—29 III. 253—25S 4: 3 III. 202
5: 36 I. 403 4: 5 III. 156, 174
5: 44 - II. 174 4: 25 II. 4l 1
6: 29 III. 91 5: II. 348
6: 37—39 IV. 254 5: 9 III. 175
6: 39, 40, 45 III. 227 5: 10, 11 II. 424, 486, 506
6: 44 II. 180 5: 11 II. 516
7: 52 I. 130 5: 12—19 II. 217, 251, 267
8: 43 II. 185 5: 9, 10 III. 228
8: 58 I. 32l 5: 18, 19 II. 483
9: ] 6 III. 358 5: ]IV. 33
10: 27—29 III. 227 5: 12—21 IV. 218
10: 34, 35 I. 403 6: 3, 4 III. 451
10: 33—36 I. 140,34l 7: 14—25 JV, 512
ll: 4 I 391 7: 15—23 II. 94, 256
11: 29 I 402 7: 7 III 160
12: 37—40 II 219 8: 7 II. 175, 185
14: 15: 16: I. 419 8: 30—39 III. 297
14: 28 v 479 9: 4 III. 423
16: 27 IV 253 9: I 1—24 IV. 43, 264
I 7: 2 IV. 252 9: 30—32 III. 163
17: 12 III. 247 9: IV. l64
Acts, 1: 24 I. 384 10: 13, 14 I. 378
2: 21 I. 378 11: 5, 6 I. 494
2: 25—31 I. I 19 1 l: 15 II. 486, 506
4: 20 II. 190 1 1: 2l II. 259
4: 26—28 IV. 247 11: 36 I. 353, 472
568
IN ID EX O F T E X T S.
1 Cor.
2 Cor.
Gal.
Eph.
12:
;
6
: 10—13 I.
: 14
: 10, 12, 25, 40
: l 4
: 1 1
1, 2
3
: 27
14
7
21
16, 17, 18
8, 9, 10 I.
17
7—9
15
15
21
10
I3
13
27
24
3—11
1 1
Vol. IPage.
III. 445 | Col. 2:
148, 161, 176 || 1 Thes. 3:
II. 175 3:
I. 152 4:
III. 365 | 1 Tim. 4:
II. 498 | 2 Tim. 1:
III. 445—454 1:
III. 246 3:
I. 172 4:
III. 229 | Hebrews, I:
III. 466 1:
III. 249 6:
I. 420 7:
I. 4] 6 10
III. 505 11:
IV. 501 | James, 2:
IV. 150 | 1 Peter, I:
I. 61 1:
III. 253—259 2:
III. 4 17 3:
L. 14l 3:
III. 259] 2 Pcter, 1:
III. 100 1:
II. 421 2:
I. 3 1 2:
155, 331, 320 3
I. 153—155 3:
II. 176 3:
II. 258 | l John, 1:
IV. 35 1:
III. 163 2:
III, 162 2:
II. 418 2:
IV. 77 3:
III. 452 3:
III. 42] 3:
IV. 43—255 4:
I. 47] 4:
III. 230 4:
II. 258 4:
IV. 34 5:
I. 149 | Rey. I:
I. 417 1:
II. 42] 1:
II. 427 4:
III. 229 5:
I. 297—330 7:
I. 392 22:
Phil.
13—14
8
3
: 20
: 30
2
25
6
6—8
11
12
IV. 509
Vol. IPage
12 III. 451
I 1—13 I. 376—385
12—17 III. 253
16, 17 III. 258
14 III. 5 I 8
6 III. 519
9 I. 494
l6 I. I 36
l3 I. I 1 1
6 I. 368
8 I. 120, 258, 340
4, 6, 8, 9 III. 242
9, 10 II. 3l7
: 26—29, 38, 39 III. 244
III. 98
17, 18, 19 III. 209
1—3 III. 519
10, l l I. 121, 174
24 II. 419
18 II. 4 1 l
2l III. 455
1 I. 343
21 I. 135, 174
1 II. 498
20—22 III. 244
: 3, 4, 8, 9 IV. 4S0
15, 16 I. 149
18 I. 377
6 7, 9 IV. 496
7 II. 426
2 II. 423, 497
19 III. 248
45 IV. 497
3 IV. 497
9 IV. 498
15 II. 420
6 I. I48
10 II. 423, 501
14 II. 498
15 I. 402
1, 5 I. 402
5, 6 I. 377
5 II. 399
8, 17, 18 I, 320, 328, 347
ll I. 472
l 1—14 I. 377
10 I. 387
13 I. 847
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