SELECT DISCOURSES
OF
SERENO EDWARDS DWIGHT, D. D,
PASTOR OF PARK STREET CHURCH, BOSTON; AND PRESIDENT OF HAMILTON
COLLEGE) IN NEW YORK.
WITH A
MEMOIR OF HIS LIFE,
EY
WILLIAM  T. DWIGHT, D. D.
PASTOR OF THE TIIRD CONGREGATIONAL CHURCH, PORTLAND.
B O S TON:
PUBLISHED BY CROCKER AND BREWSTEPR
47, Washington-street.
1851.




Entered according to Act. of Congress, in the year 1851,
BY WILLIAM T. DWIGHT,
In the- Clerk's Office of the District Court of Maine.




INTRODUCTION.
TIuE Discourses, entitled, " The Death of Christ,"
which extend through the first 168 pages following
the Memoir, were delivered in the month of January,
1826, and were published the same year. They have
been for many years entirely out of print, and as the
discussion of the great question there presented has
been thought very able and satisfactory, their republi*cation in this volume, it is believed, will be welcomed
by various readers.
In the selection of the Discourses which occupy the
remainder of the volume, the Editor could not, of
course, aim at any thing like system. Yet, if he mistakes not, a certain sequence and order will be observed. In the first Discourse, entitled, "God's constant trial of man," the hearer, or man universally, is
contemplated as the subject of a probation appointed
by his Creator. In the second,-" There is no Differenee," the results of this probation  are distinctly
exhibited. In the third, —  Make you a new heart,"
man, the sinner, is required at once to return in penitence to the holy service of God.-This, which is his
most reasonable service, he is immovably disinclined
to do: and, therefore, in the fourth Discourse, —" e



iv               INTRODUCTION.
generation, a sovereign work," the Divine Agency
which overcomes this hostility, is presented as God's
sovereign exercise of grace. In the fifth, —' The
Church," as an Association instituted by Christ, and
including those who have been professedly regenerated, is considered. In  the  sixth,-" Why many
Christians mistake their own characters," a question
affecting the relative usefulness and happiness of
many belonging to the Church, is satisfactorily discussed. The seventh,-" Everlasting Life, already
begun in the believer," illustrates the greatness of the
change of state which has taken place in all the
regenerated, or in every Christian. The eighth," Fellowship with the Father and the Son," contemplates, in a somewhat different manner, the exalted
privileges of which the mature Christian is possessed,
while here on earth. In the ninth, —" Heaven," or the
final and blissful abode of the Christian, is vividly
exhibited. In the tenth, —" Mutual Recognition in
Heaven," or the renovation of that acquaintance and
intercourse in Heaven which has existed between
-Christians on earth, is the subject last in order.
To these Discourses is appended an Address on
the Greek Revolution. It was originally delivered as
a Discourse on the text, " Thou shalt love thy neighbor as thyself;" and was subsequently repeated and
then published in its present form, at the request of
"the Greek Committee" in Boston, in 1824. It is
here republished, as a specimen of the Author's manner, when treating such a subject.




CONTENTS.
INTRODUCTION,.....          iv
MEMOIR,.,......... vii
DISCOURSES, ON THE DEATH OF CHRIST.
Text.-" And when they were come to the place which is called,
Calvary, there they crucified him."-LuKE xxiii. 33....    1
GOD'S CONSTANT TRIAL OF MAN.
Text-"t  What is man,-that thou shouldst try him every moment?"
-JOB vii. 17, 18s.                                               169
THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE.
Text-" For there is no difference."-RoMANs, iii. 22...        1S7
THE SINNER REQUIRED' TO MAKE HIMSELF A NEW
HEART.
Text.-" Make you a new heart."-EzEIUIEL xviii. 31.                   203
REGENERATION, A SOVEREIGN WORK.
Text.-" The wind blovweth where it listeth, and thou hearest the
sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it cometh, nor whither
it goeth: So is every one that is born of the Spirit."-JOHN iii. S.   224
A4




vi                          CONTENTS.
THE CHURCH.
Text.-" The Church of the living God, the pillar and ground of the
truth."-1 TIMOTHY, iii. 15... 242
WHY MANY CHRISTIANS MISTAKE THEIR OWN CHARACTERS.
Text.-" Know ye not your own selves?"-2 CORINTHIANS, Xiii. 5.    258
EVERLASTING LIFE, ALREADY BEGUN IN THE BELIEVER.
Text.-" He that believeth on the Son, hath everlasting life."JOHN iii. 36..                                               275
FELLOWSHIP WITH THE FATHER, AND THE SON.
Text.-" And truly our fellowship is with the Father, and with his
Son, Jesus Christ. And these things write we unto you, that
your joy may be full." — JOHN, i. 3, 4..  291
HEAVEN.
Text.-" The heavenly Jerusalem."-HEBREws, xii. 22.            311
MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.
Text. —As also ye have acknowledged us in part, that we are your
rejoicing, even as ye also are ours, in the day of the Lord Jesus."-2 CORINTHIANS, i. 14.                                   328
THE GREEK REVOLUTION: AN ADDRES-S,..354




M E M OI R
THE Author of these Discourses was extensively known.
Although he was compelled by disease to withdraw for the
last fifteen years from every kind of active life, few persons,
while his health continued, mingled in a larger circle of acquaintances, or made more numerous or warmer friends.
His death was truly mourned, and his memory will be
cherished by those friends, who have survived him. To
such, it is believed, the following Memoir will be acceptable.
By others it will, I trust, be deemed sufficient for me to
say, that the state of retirement and almost seclusion in
which his latter years were passed, and which was strongly
contrasted with the stations of public usefulness which he
had previously occupied, has seemed to call for some such
notice as that which is here given.:
Sereno Edwards Dwight was born in Greenfield, a beautiful village in the town of Fairfield, Connecticut, May 18,
1786.  He was the fifth son and child of Rev. Timothy
Dwight, D. D., LL. D., President of Yale College. His
mother, Mrs. Mary Dwight, was the second daughter of
Benjamin Woolsey, Esq., of Dosoris, Long Island.
His baptismal name, Sereno Edwards, was given in remembrance of an uncle, the brother of his father, and the
next in seniority among a numerous family.  This uncles




Viii                   MEMOIR.
after having attained to maturity and married, entered the
medical profession   but was lost at sea not far from Nova
Scotia, at no distant period before the birth of the nephew.
The latter part of the name, Edwards, was given to the
uncle in memory of his maternal grandfather, the first
President. Edwards.  The former part, Sereno, was not
given as a name of fancy merely, but I have been unable
to discover its immediate origin. Its remote source is
probably Italian.  Its articulate sounds are unusually musical, but the name itself, until within the last thirty years,
has been very rare.  Whether the surprise which the announcement of a name so uncommon often occasioned, or
some other consideration, rendered it unwelcome, to the
nephew, is uncertain; but, from early life, probably, he
became dissatisfied with it, and occasionally contemplated
either his own silent disuse of it, or its being changed by a
legislative act.  On the title page of some of his publications he chose that his name should appear, as S. Edwards.
His personal dislike to the name, Sereno, has not, however,
been entertained by all, as it has been frequently given
to various individuals in immediate remembrance of himself.
Young Dwight was, almost from his birth, a child of no
ordinary promise.  He very early manifested great quickness of apprehension, mastering with ease the usual lessons
of children of his own ace.  His bodily conformation was
corresponding. Few who subsequently saw him when he
had reached full manhood, or had attained to forty years
of age, at either of which periods he was deemed one of
the handsomest men of his time, would doubt that, when a
little child or an active lad, he must have given promise of
the man.  In thes. early years his health was very good,
his spirit was uncommonly cheerful and hopeful, and with




MEMOIR,                       ix
his active frame and quick intellect he thus presented to his
parents and other friends that most attractive spectacle —a
bright and ardent boy, on whom life's mornin  is -rising
without a cloud, and before whose path the flowers and
foliage of May are every- where expanding.: This development of character and temperament was, in his case, aided
by various circumstances.  His village birthplace, Greenfield, has been ever indeed a peculiarly secluded spot, but
its natural attractions have been rarely equalled.  It forms
the summit of an elevated hill, whose front looks down on
the shores of Long Island Sound at three miles distance,
and which recedes inland so as to constitute an extended
area.  The prospect thus afforded of the surrounding country, and of the inland sea that washes its shore, is noble:
hill and valley, widening plains and scattered villages, with
the magnificent expanse of the Sound, greeting the eye.
On this beautiful spot, and in the midst of a quiet but flourishing village, whose locality secured for its inhabitants a
pure and healthy atmosphere, young Dwight was born; and
there his childhood and early youth were passed. 1Te was
thus nurtured and trained absolutely at home.  Unlike
many who, in later years, were his classmates at Yale College, unlike thousands of youths who are now in constant
training for admission to our literary institutions generally,
he was never withdrawn from the guardianship of parental
vigilance and affection. Of the fidelity of that guardianship
it is unnecessary here to speak.  Under its eye, and as the
youngest son of the family until he had attained to nine
years of age, he grew up through infancy and childhoodnot as a sickly hot-house plant, whose artificial richness is
the omen of its speedy decay; but a healthy, vigorous shoot,
branching forth in natural but not wild luxuriance.  His
social, intellectual, and moral character was thus formed




X                      MEMiOIR.
from the commencement. His father, during the entire
residence of the family at Greenfield, taught an academy
for pupils of both sexes, which he had himself instituted at
the commencement of his pastoral labors. This school soon
became celebrated, so that fifty or sixty pupils were annually
drawn to the village, a portion of whom became inmates of
his own family. This, his then youngest son, became himself one of these pupils as soon as his early years would
permit.  While his intellect was thus cultivated by his
father at the school, and while a less formal but not less
valuable mental training was imparted to him by both his
parents at home, he was familiarly introduced-even as a
child-into polished and intelligent society.  His father's
house had then become, scarcely less than it was subsequently at New Haven, the centre of a most desirable circle
of friends and strangers. Young Sereno's intellect was
thus gradually, but rapidly, unfolded, from year to year;
while the godly instructions, and example, and prayers of
his father constituted the suitable training of his heart.
And few pious fathers, it may be here properly said, even
among eminent ministers, have been able so to present to
their children the character and government of God as constituting the motives to a life of holiness and faith, as was
ever done by President Dwight in the bosom of his own
family. The result, through the divine blessing was, what
may be anticipated in every such case-that this son grew
up from the earliest childhood, to " fear God and keep his
commandments." Happily preserved as he was from contact with vicious companions in these early years, through
the vigilance of parental fidelity and also from the secluded
position of the village itself, he then formed the moral habits
which were conspicuous to those best acquainted with him
in later years. Among these were a deep respect and love




MEMOIR.                      Xi
for his parents, purity of conversation and feeling, a marked
dislike of whatever is mean and grovelling, generosity of
spirit, and a conscientious reverence for sacred things.
When Sereno was seven or eight years of age, he was
severely attacked by the scarlet fever. The disease took:
its usual course, and the boy, as was supposed, had recovered; when, in consequence of his playing in the open air
in a raw spring day, he caught a bad cold, which was
speedily followed by what is called, —the secondary stage
of the disease. He was then seized with convulsion fits,
of which he had more than thirty, and was brought very
near to death. While he was in this state and scarce a
hope remained of his recovery, his father, whose parental
attachments were very strong, was deeply distressed at the
prospect of his death; and as all mortal efforts were evidently powerless, he was led with the greater earnestness
to try the efficacy of prayer. While thus interceding for
the life of the child, he felt himself prompted to stipulate,to vow, may be the more accurate language-that, if God
would spare the child and restore him to health, he would
himself employ all his own influence in training him up for
the ministry of the gospel.  The state of mind which gave
rise to such a vow, or covenant, on the part of the father,
will be perfectly intelligible to some who may read this
narrative. The true disciple is invited to approach the
throne of grace with just such a filial freedom and boldness,
in his time of need.  He may address Him who is invisible as unreservedly, as confidently, as did ever the father
of the faithful, or the lawgiver of Israel,-talking with
Him, pleading with Him, covenanting with Him, ", as a
man talks with his friend."  The child was spared to the
supplications of the father, and in subsequent years, after
having finished his course of study at Yale College and a




Xli                   MEMOIR.
course of instruction of equal length as an officer in the
same institution, he entered on the profession of the law,
which he pursued for six years with good success. At that
period the vow which the father had made in the son's extremity, and the influence which the father had exercised
in successive years, were, through divine grace, made effectual in the choice of the ministry by the son as his
future sphere of duty. Anticipating here for a moment
what; will be more fully specified hereafter, I would add,
that the first discourse of the son which was also preached
in the presence of the father, was from the passage: " For
this child I prayed; and the Lord hath given me my petition which I asked of him. Therefore also I have lent
him to the Lord; as long as he liveth he shall be lent to
the Lord."
In December, 1795, young Dwight, when between nine
and ten years of age, was removed with the other members
of the family to New Haven, his father having then entered
on the presidency of Yale College. His transfer from the
secluded village of Greenfield to the beautiful town, which,
for the next twenty-one years, was to be his residence, was
doubtless only favorable to himself.  Here, as previously,
living ever under the parental roof and guided by the same
watchfulness and affection, the influence of a literary institution which now began indirectly to affect him, must have
tended the more rapidly to form his studious habits, and to
develope his mental powers universally.  Whether he had
commenced the study of the classics while at Greenfield,
I have no means of ascertaining; but he entered on such
studies immediately after his removal to New Haven, and
pursued them diligently until his admission into Yale College in 1799. He passed a portion, perhaps the whole, of
this period of his pupilage, under the successive masters of




MEMOIR.                     Xiii
the Hopkins' Grammar school,-an institution, whose origin
under a more imposing title dates as far back as 1658, if
not earlier. Two of these masters, Stephen Twining, Esq.,
of the class of 1795, and John Hart Lynde, Esq., of the
class of 1796, have been long deceased: -a third, the venerable Dr. Murdock, the very learned annotator of Mosheim, still lives in the vicinity of the institution from whose
walls he went forth fifty years since.  Upon soliciting information from him respecting the scholarship of the subject of this Notice, its writer received the following reply;
"' New Haven, March 19, 18510.
Rev. and Dear Sir:Your late excellent.Brother, the Rev. Sereno E. Dwight,
D. D., was under my instruction in the Hopkins' Grammar
Sehool at New Haven, during one or two quarters in the
year 1798: and he was not only the best scholar in that
school, but the best ever under my instruction any where.
His progress was so rapid, that he could not be kept in any
class more than a few days.  He so soon mastered the
Greek of Homer, that he took the whole 3d Book of the
Iliad (a short Book, indeed) for a single lesson.  Besides
Greek, he studied Hebrew under me for a time. His conduct in school was a perfect pattern of suavity, docility,
and obedience to good order.
I rejoice to hear that you are about to publish a volume
of Sermons, selected from those which he left in manuscript, with a niemoir of his Life prefixed.  It will, I have
no doubt, do honor to his memory.
With high esteem,
Dear Sir, yours,
JAS. MURDOCK."




Zxiv                   MEMOIR.
As has been already noticed, young Dwight became a
member of Yale College in 1799, when he had somewhat
more than completed his thirteenth year.  The letter of
Dr. Murdock is an assurance that he must have been fully
qualified for admission to that seminary: indeed, it is not
improbable that, among a class of about seventy, not one
of its members was better fitted than himself A youth,
nay, a child-as he may be almost termed, who, while at
school, so speedily distanced every class in which he was
placed that it became necessary to permit him to study
alone, and who could master the third Book of the Iliad at
a single lesson, could undoubtedly have been prepared for
admission into the same Seminary with honor to- himself,
had tile qualifications for membership in 1799 been the
same as they now are in 1851. Still, his age was premature for an entrance upon a college life. Such was, no
doubt, the opinion of his Father.  But the son had already
made so rapid progress, that it would have been very dificult to have confined him for two or three additional years
to the walls of a grammar school, especially as he could
appeal to the father's example,-the latter having become a
member of the Freshman. class in the same institution in
1765, at the age of thirteen. Happily, as we shall soon
see, young Dwight surmounted every difficulty, and escaped every temptation to which the student at College,
and especially the boyish student, is exposed.  But the
writer would again express his conviction, and it is one in
which the officers of the New England colldges will, probably, universally concur, that the admission of youths at the
age of thirteen or fourteen is to be deprecated.  Such
indeed has been in later years the advance in the qualifications for admission, and such the corresponding advance of
the whole collegiate course, that a youth of fifteen is now




MEMOIR.                     XV
relatively but little older than was the youth of thirteen,
fifty years since. But aside from the present demand for
more mature powers of mind to grapple with and master
the difficulties of the existing course of collegiate studies,
a similar advance is needed in moral discrimination and
firmness of principle. The temptations besetting the young
student, have been greatly increased within the last thirty
years,-temptations, if not, as is often the case, to gross
sensual indulgence, yet to neglect of study for other objects. Secret societies have during this period been largely multiplied within these seminaries, whose influence, as a
whole, has been injurious to scholarship and to morality.
The youth is not only, as Wordsworth affirms, 6" father of
the man;" but our literary institutions have become so
thoroughly republican, that the youth at college as well as
elsewhere is not slow to discover that he is'the man"
himself.  The parent who would not, probably, be saddened by the career of a son whose intellect* and whose
morals may be both found wanting in his course of trial,
should not send him to the halls of a college before he has
attained to sixteen, or, what is better, seventeen years.
The subject of this Memoir, as has been intimated, was
the cause of no such parental suffering. Having been exceedingly well fitted, he took at once an honorable position
among his classmates, and this position he never subsequently lost. Of about seventy, he was the youngest but
two, if not literally the youngest. Many of these were
young men, as will be readily believed by those who read
over the names of the class of 1803, of vigorous minds,an equality with whom  could be scarcely maintained during successive years of study by one so much younger
than themselves. And where in such cases the race is
maintained by the stripling pari passu, until its very ter



Xvi                     MEMOIR.
mination, not rarely are his overtasked powers enfeebled
for future effort, even if they are not all buried in a premature grave. Young Dwight, possessed, however, too
much vigor of body and mind to permit him, either soon to
be left behind, or to sink from exhaustion at the honorable
termination of the four years' struggle.  His scholarship
was such, that he received for the Junior year the "6 Salutary Oration "-a very unusual distinction for a youth of
sixteen.  When he was graduated at the close of the subsequent college year, at the age of seventeen, he delivered
an oration on " Divorces," —a subject, that seems foreign to
the taste or the studies of one still so young, but indicating
at the same time, the settled moral principles which he had
already adopted. The legislation of Connecticut was even
then, as it has continued to be ever since, stained by a law
authorizing divorces for other grounds than that which has
been established by Him who instituted marriage, and who
has never commissioned individuals or legislators to lessen
its original sanctity.  Young Dwight selected this subject
as his theme, and fearlessly maintained the scriptural
standard to be the sovereign law.
His moral habits, while a member of the college, as
might be presumed from what has been just remarked,
were only praiseworthy.  It is not intended that he had
already become a true disciple of Him, whose gospel he
delighted in subsequent years to preach; although many
Christians undoubtedly are habitually less exemplary than
he was during this period.:Neither is it intended, that
just such youths apparently as was the subject of this Memoir, are not, and perhaps frequently, the subjects of evangelical piety; although themselves may disclaim the possession of such a character. The child who is born and
nurtured within a pious atmosphere, whose first recollec



MEMOIR.                     Xvii
tions are thus associated with the inculcation of the fear of
God, the preciousness of the Saviour, and a conscientious
performance of daily duties, and who beholds in the parent's life the bright exemplification of these instructions,
may be truly-converted long before he himself imagines it.
In such cases the outward change-which is the only evidence of the indwelling grace, is often, for a considerable
period, scarcely perceptible. Indeed, happier were it for
our churches generally, happier for Christian parents and
for their children, were the training to be ever steadily
directed to just such anticipated results. The family would
then, as it were, universally become as it is yet destined
to become, the nursery of the Church, and the great primary design of its institution be visibly accomplished.
But without affirming that young Dwight was at this season
a true Christian, his conduct while in college was truly exemplary. His habits as a private pupil, which, as we have
already seen, were those of " suavity, docility, and obedience to good order," were but strengthened while an
academical student.  His father was at the same time the
head of the College; and while he was a most tender parent,
and a kind instructor and counsellor of the young men
under his care, he was also a thorough disciplinarian. The
son followed the teachings of the father in both these relations, and whether as an individual simply or as a student,
was without reproach.  These four years were doubtless,
in many respects, the happiest period in his life.  Such,
indeed, would be a true affirmation of most of the Alumni
of our colleges. Were they questioned as to those golden
years when hope was brightest, and forebodings of the
unknown future were all but unknown; when the days rose
and set with scarcely a cloud, because the pulse of health
beat full, the toils were light and the intercourse with their
B*




Xviii                  MEMOIR.
fellows was fraternal and joyous;-how many would instantly recur to their college days, and sigh for " joys
departed, never to return "!'9 Emphatically might this be
asserted of him  whose course we have traced thus far.
Then in the glow of youth and health, a stranger personally to the ills of life and to that constitutional gloom which
is often their precursor, distinguished for his talents and
scholarship, his domestic and social relations generally
such as many would deem enviable, the months and years
of but few could have passed more happily away.
Immediately after his thus leaving college, he accompanied his father, with several other graduates, in one of
those journeys through New England, the description of
which was ultimately given to the public in the four volumes of President Dwight's Travels. These excursions
were made from year to year, during the six weeks' vacation following the annual commencement; and were always
most pleasant and profitable, as well to the younger friends
who were associated with him  as to the author of that
work.  In those days, when rail-roads had not made
travelling a mere matter of swift locomotion, and when
half the population of our villages even were not apparently to be found everywhere present except at home, the
daily progress of the traveller on horseback or in the chaise:along the valley of the Connecticut or from  town to town
upon the line of sea coast, alternated occasionally by one
or more days' resting amid the hospitalities of intelligent
and polished families, was a source of pleasure and of
health, to which: our present system of noise and crowding
and whirling onward, which is called,-travelling, varied as
it is by a -brief abode at some watering place or in a
thronged city hotel, can make no pretensions.  From  one
of these most- pleasurable excursions, the -narrative of




MEMOIR.-                    XiX
which will be found in one of the volumes of the Travels,
young  Dwight returned homeward after a few weeks' absence, to enter upon what was to him the new business of
instruction.
This was as an Assistant in an Academy, which had been
established in the village of South Farms, a parish of the
beautiful town of Litchfield.  The principal was James
Morris, Esq., a graduate of Yale College-at this time of
more than thirty years' standing, and a man of uncommon
worth.  He was a student at Yale while President Dwight
was a tutor, and their acquaintance subsequently ripened
into a friendship which continued through life. The influence of this gentleman upon the intellectual and religious
character of the inhabitants of this village was so happy
and so long continued, that it was said, and no doubt justly,
that " the people of South Farms had grown handsomer
in' Squire Morris's time.'   Our young Alumnus, now but
seventeen and a half years of age, passed the cominog year
as the Assistant of this gentleman, and resided during that
period in his family. The pupils were of both sexes, and
they came thither from remote states, as well as firom the
neighboring towns. The studies were classical and nmiscellaneous, and not a few of the young men were considerably more advanced in age than the Assistant.  But his
influence as an instructor and as an individual was, apparently, not lessened by the circumstance of his youth.  He
had now attained to manly stature, his face was bright with
intelligence, and his manner was already dignified as well
as courteous.  His intercourse with Mr. Morris and his
worthy family was pleasurable only, the pupils were docile
and respectful, and thus the year passed pleasantly away.
Returning to New Haven, he passed the succeeding
year as an amanuensis of his father.  President Dwight,




XS X                    MEMOIR.
as is known to the readers of the introductory Memoir of
his life in his Systematic Theology, was afflicted from early
life, with an extreme weakness of the eyes, —occasioned by
their premature use after his recovery from  the measles.
This weakness was so great that, while he resided in Greenfield, he was compelled to preach habitually from brief
notes-being wholly disqualified from writing out his discourses. The same practice was necessarily continued for
a number of years after his entrance on the presidency;
but as his salary was increased during the latter half of his
tenure of the office, he was then enabled to offer a compensation-a most inadequate one indeed,-each year, to an
amanuensis.  Small as was the stipend, however, the employment was coveted; and fourteen young men, graduates
of the college, occupied it during as many successive years
till his decease. His System of Theology was thus principally dictated by him during the first four years, to the
first four amanuenses, of whom  his son, Sereno, was the
first. About the first forty discourses of the System were
thus written by the subject of this Memoir, as it was the
practice of his father, unless when peculiarly interrupted,
to dictate a new discourse every week. During the same
period also he thus wrote, under the same dictation, various
miscellaneous discourses, and certain portions, it is probable, of the Travels.  The Theological Sermon was usually
dictated, and then written down, during the first two days,
when its author was not interrupted by visitors: the remainder of the week was employed in dictating and in
writing down other discourses, or miscellaneous compositions. Had not this process been thus pursued, none of
President D)wight's Works, some of his occasional discourses excepted, would have ever appeared. In this
employment the son was a useful auxiliary to th3 father.




MEMOIR.                      Xxi
I-is intelligence was such, as to require no second utterance
of the sentence which had been previously unheard or misunderstood; and his handwriting, though not graceful, was
uncommonly legible, and  rapidly  executed.  His own
knowledge of Theology as a science, must have been much
increased by such an employment. Inquisitive and active
as his mind ever was, he could be permitted to propose inquiries and suggest difficulties, and thus become instructed by luminous explanations from his father, which few of
those who succeeded him would have deemed allowable to
themselves. Possibly had this year not been thus occupied,
he might not have ultimately entered the ministry.
The ensuing year, the third after his leaving college,
and which also immediately preceded his entrance on the
office of Tutor, was devoted, as is supposed, to a course
of study more or less general.  No reference to this period
of his life has been found among his manuscript papers, and
the writer of this brief Memoir was then a child, and residinog at some distance from  New Haven at a classical
school, so that his own recollections are here wholly at
fault.  What this course of study was, and how great the
progress made, is matter only for conjecture.  His thirst
for knowledge, and his more than ordinary facility of acquisition, are assurances that the year must have been profitable.
At the commencement of the college year of 1806, Mr.
Dwight became a tutor in Yale College-an office, which
he retained for the four succeeding years.  This portion of
his life, it will be perceived, was of the same duration as
his previous course of academical study, and was, perhaps,
not less important in the formation of his mind and character. The class of which he took the supervision, in company with his fellow tutor, Mr. Mills Day, (a gentleman,




Xxii                   MEMOIR.
whose premature death was deeply mourned by all acquainted with his modest but uncommon worth,) had been
just admitted; so that one half of the class which was specially commited to his instructions, was to continue under
his almost exclusive guidance for the three following years.
This circumstance was equally favorable to the teacher and
to his pupils. He was not thus constrained to build on
another's foundation, to make over again what another had
previously marred, to subject himself to the invidious comparisons of students who preferred a former teacher's instructions, or discipline, or demeanor. The young men
were to be moulded by him solely, so far as the circumstance of his being their only instructor could invest him
with such a power; for the present system of appointing
tutors to specific departments of instruction is, comparatively, of recent date. The character of the class, and
particularly of his own division, was also desirable.  It
is the class of 1810 in the Triennial Catalogue, and the
names there enrolled of many since become eminent in the
various walks of life assure us, that there was no ordinary
amount of talents then placed under the supervision of a
single instructor. The letter of Rev. Dr. Goodrich, which
appears below, himself one of the pupils of Mr. Dwight, informs us that the tutor was fully adquate to every demand
which was thus made on him, and that throughout the entire
course he secured the respect and confidence of these
young men.  Whatever the branch of study, whether the
classics or mathematics or rhetoric, he was at home in them
all; and his aptitude to impart instruction-by no means a
uniform attendant on thorough scholarship in the teacher —
was corresponding.  Where discipline in its different forms
was needed, he hesitated not to enforce it; while his frank
and friendly demeanor secured general good will. His




MEMOIR.                    Xxiii
fine personal appearance, to which previous allusion has
been made, undoubtedly increased his influence as an instructor. His height exceeded six feet, his person was
symmetrical, he was perfectly erect and graceful in' his
movements, his forehead was uncommonly broad and lofty,
his countenance full of intelligence, and his general air for
so young a man that of uncommon dignity.  Not a few of
his division of the class were considerably older than himself, but they manifested the same respect for him in the
daily intercourse of the recitation room as their youngest
associates.  That this account is not hyperbolical, the letter
already referred to is sufficient authority.
" Yale College, May 16th, 1851.
Rev. and Dear Sir:Your brother, the Rev. Sereno E. Dwight, D. D., was
tutor of the class to which 1 belonged in College.  I was
under his instruction three years; and in compliance with
your request, I will mention what occurs to me, respecting
his character and habits as an instructor.
Few men ever entered on the tutorship at so early an
age. He was, I believe, but little more than twenty.
Many of his pupils were older than himself, and none of
them were more than four years younger. Yet he commanded the entire respect of the class; and I believe there
was not one of us who did uot consider it a privilege to be
under his instruction.  There was so much animation in
his character and mode of teaching, that he made the recitation room a lively and cheerful place.  He was then in
high health; the disease, which afterwards preyed so long
upon his constitution, had not yet commenced; and the
alacrity with which he performed every duty, seemed to
diffuse itself among his pupils, so that most of us felt our




Xxiv                   MEMOIR.
studies as thus conducted, to be rather a pleasure than a
task. He was thorough and exact in every branch of instruction, but the classics were his favorite study. The
translations which he gave from time to time, were uncommonly close and elegant. He entered fully into the spirit
of the author, and endeavored to make the recitations not
a mere exercise in grammatical analysis, but a means of
refining the taste of his pupils and enriching their minds
with elevated sentiments or useful knowledge. He bestowed much attention upon English composition.  His
criticisms were kind but rigid; and when he saw talents for
writing that might be developed, he took great pains to
draw them forth by encouraging the timid and quickening
the indolent.  His whole course of instruction pointed remarkably to the duties of a public life.  He was himself
preparing for those duties, and such was the cast of his
character, that he identified, to an uncommon degree, his
own pursuits with those of his pupils. Hence, he spared
no pains to make them able writers and speakers.  He encouraged extemporaneous debate. He gave great attention to the disputes of the Junior year. He seemed determined, in short, to carry us along with him, as far as possible, in the course of training which he had marked out
for himself; and the obligations under which he laid us,
have been felt by many with increasing force in the advance
of years.
I am very truly,
And with much respect,
CIIAUNCEY A. GOODruICc"
It has been said that the four years which Mr. Dwight
passed as a student, were in many respects the happiest
part of his life. Yet it is doubtful, whether his subsequent




M'MOiit                     Xxv
four years as a tutor were less pleasurable.  The buoyancy
of youth is indeed more free from care and foreboding, and
is therefore more light hearted, but the quality of its pleasures is inferior to those of early manhood.  The draught
of the latter is deeper, its taste is keener and more discriminating. The young man of twenty-two and twentyfour is far more intellectual than the youth of eighteen;
his plans and hopes, instead of the flight of the vagrant
bird, have begun to circle around some valued object; and
iife has become to him far more of a distinct and prized
reality. Such discriminations might be justly made in his
particular case. He had, indeed, finally separated from the
society of most of his classmates, but the mature friendships
which he was now forming were more than a compensation.
His associates in the instruction and government of the college, both the permanent and the temporary officers, were
men whose society was in itself equally pleasant and profitable. The President was his father. Two of the three professors, the same whose respected names have long been first in
seniority, were not many years older than himself; and the
third somewhat older still, is now the honored ex-President.
With each of these his associations were familiar and
friendly.  His fellow tutors were also all men of personal
worth and intelligence, so that rarely indeed could the
office which he filled present equal attractions to another.
While he was a tutor, he commenced the study of Law.
He had been informed by his father, and doubtless long
anterior to this period, of his own desperate sickness when
a little child; of the prayer which was then offered, and of
the promise then made, by that father.  But while revering that parent as few sons ever do revere a father, he
could only reply that he did not deem himself a renewed
man; and that he could not, therefore, conscientiously,
C




xxvi                   MEMOIR.
commence a course of study for the ministry.  That
prayer and that promise, however, were yet to receive.
their full answer of fulfilment, although neither the father
nor the son may have anticipated it at the:time. Sovereign
influences were no doubt even then directing the way, however litttle they were seen. ZBut with such views of his
own character, Mr. Dwight could make no other decision,
and he entered accordingly on a course- of legal study.
His first instructor was the  Hon. Charles Chauncey of
New Haven, who had been for many years a Justice of
the Superior Court of that state, but who had retired fromthe bench. Under the direction of this gentleman, he and
one or more associates pursued the study of the elementary
principles of the profession; and when- it became necessary
for him to acquire a knowledge of its practice, he then
became a student in the office of Nathan: Smith, Esq.,
thenj and for many years, one of the most eminent lawyers
in the state.  His course of study under Judge Chauncey he was able to pursue without iufrihging upon the
claims of his office as a tutor; neither did his subsequent
preparation apparently interfere with these duties, as he
was:admitted to the bar soon after his resignation of that
offie.
After Mr. Dwight had completed the first three years
of his tutorship, the class, of one half of which he had
been the instructor, entered on the studies of the fourth
year under the direction of the President.  He commenced, accordingly, the instruction of one division of the
class which was admitted in 1809, and was graduated in
1813.  With, these young men he remained one year,
commanding similar respect and confidence to those which
he had received from his senior pupils.
He was admitted to the bar of New Haven County in




MEMOIR.                    XXVii
November, 1810,-two months after his connection- with
the- college -had terminated, and he now entered at once
with his characteristic ardor upon the-life of a lawyer.  In
many respects he-was peculiarly fitted for ultimate success
and distinction in his profession.  His talents were- superior, his previous acquisitions could be all rendered auxiliary, the nice logical distinctions of law-as a science-he
relished and readily comprehended, he - was sufficiently
fluent, and his- character was unblemished.: His ardent
temperament, to which allusion has been just' made, was
somewhat -of a — disadvantage; for the lawyer, whether
giving counsel in his office or conducting the cause of his
client in court, should of all men be self-collected and cool.
Imperturbableness not unfrequently gains- the mastery,
whether amid the strifes of the forum or the debates of the
senate chamber, over a superior intellect which is easily
moved from  its balance.  It is not intended that Mr,
Dwight was hot headed or passionate, few men were less
so; but that his natural ardor was such as to require
watchfulness:and restraint, when amid exciting scenes.
Thus it is-:wisely —ordered.  Where the endowments and
acquisitions are enviable, there will be found some drawback, some infirmity, making a compensation, as it were,
to those who might otherwise repine at the superiority to
which they cannot attain. - Had his subsequent life been
wholly given to the law, he would have doubtless completely overcome, as he did in a good degree actually overcome,
this excitability. - -Expediency and philosophy, not to speak
of higher principles, are usually efficient — teachers in such
caSes.
As Mr. Dwight, like almost all other lawyers, was constrained to make his way to success by his own efforts, he
had sufficient leisure for legal study for a considerable




xxviii                 MEMOIR.
period. This absence of active business, so often dreaded
by the young lawyer, is in most cases indispensable to ultimate distinction.  Law, like many other sciences, is to be
fully mastered only after long years of patient application.
Where clients crowd upon the lawyer of but three or five
years' standing, so that his time is principally spent at
court, he may become prompt, fluent, confident, and for a
time rapidly grow in repute; but the thorough student will
at length overtake him, and then leave him far behind.
The subject of this Memoir preferred the latter species of
eminence, and his diligence in study was corresponding,
His habits of application would authorize such an affirmation here, could there be no reference to living testimony,
for he who has been ever characteristically studious, will
least of all intermit his application when once entered on a
permanent profession. Such testimony, however, is not
wanting.  A gentleman, who was then and for a number
of subsequent years among the foremost in the profession
at New Haven, and who in later years has been one of the
most eminent of the Bar of New York, informs me that,
brief as was his legal career, he was deemed a'" learned
lawyer."
In August, 1811, Mr. Dwight was married to Miss
Susan Edwards Daggett, the eldest daughter of I-on.
David Daggett, who was then at the head of the legal profession in the State, and who was in later years Chief
Justice of its highest court. This lady was possessed of a
vigorous and cultivated mind, and of a refined taste, and
at the time of their marriage she had been for several
years a professed disciple of the Saviour. Their union
continued for twenty-eight years, and it was distinguished
for the steadfastness and strength of their mutual affection.




MEMOIR.                   xxix
They had but one child, a daughter, who died in the earliest infancy.
While Mr. Dwight was slowly making progress at the
bar, he found some leisure, as other lawyers have done who
have finally reached a high eminence, for the labors of an
author. He had been for some time preparing the materials for a work on Geography, which he would have completed, and then published in his own name. This being
in some manner made known to Rev. Dr. Morse of Charlestown, Mass., whose own work on geography had been
printed in successive editions, he proposed to Mr. Dwight
that the materials thus:collected, with some others also
which himself should furnish, should be moulded into a new
edition which should still bear his own name.  The work
was thus ultimately written, much after the plan of the
geography of Pinkerton; and when published, it bore the
name of Dr. Morse.  Mr. Dwight, it is supposed, was substantially the author of the work, although the writer is
unable to speak with precision as to the relative claims of
the two gentlemen. The knowledge of geography which he
thus personally acquired, was comprehensive and accurate
to an extent rarely equalled.
While at the bar, he also wrote another -work, which was
not published until a number of years after his entrance
into the ministry. This was a treatise on that still vexed
question,-the- lawfulness of marrying a wife's sister. He
espoused the negative, and in an elaborate dessertation, in
which the argument from the Scriptures is exegetically ex-:amined at great length, considered the whole subject rather
in the style of a lawyer than of a divine.  When the
volume, a duodecimo of near two hundred pages, was at
length published at New York in 1836, he referred in the
preface: to its composition in such a manner, that a reader




XXX                   MEMOIR.
unacquainted with the author's personal history, might suppose him to have never left his original profession. This
was not, of course, intended to mislead any one; but as
no allusion was then made to his ministerial character, and
none indeed was called for, the mistake might have been
naturally made. The work was subsequently republished
in Great Britain, with a highly commendatory introduction,
by Rev. Dr. Wardlaw of Glasgow.  The reasoning of Mr.
Dwight has been deemed by some readers unanswerable;
but the question, after all that has been written on it, and
after all the enactments of parliaments and votes of kirks
and general assemblies, seems to have come no nearer to a
generally satisfactory decision.
Neither of these works was permitted to interfere with
the legitimate claims of his profession. The cases in which
he was employed and which were gradually and surely increasing, received his full attention; in the language of
the gentleman to whom reference has been already made,
"1 he prepared them well, and argued them ably." As his
own standing at the bar continued to be but recent until
his abandonment of it for the ministry, he could be but
rarely employed as the senior counsel; but I am informed
from the same quarter, that " it was deemed an advantage
to have him as an assistant in a case, because it was known
that he would be thorough in the preparation."  This was
his general characteristic, whatever the subject of investigation: thoroughness. He would fully ascertain the facts,
on which the merits of the case rested; and he would then
soundly apply the principles of law. To adopt once more
the language of the same gentleman, when generally describing Mr. Dwight's professional position: "he was a
faithful, able, and learned lawyer."  Such a character he
could not have possessed, it should be here said, had he not




MEMOIR.                     xxxi
been strongly attached to the profession itself. The lawyer
may occasionally acquire wealth, or he may render his profession the handmaid to his ambition, while in either case
it is disrelished for itself alone: but he who would attain
to its legitimate honors, must seek them because they accord with his own tastes.  Such indeed is obviously the
case in every walk of life, especially in those which are
highly intellectual or moral.  Like " the prize of the high
calling of God in Christ Jesus," incomparably nobler than
them all, they must be sought with the heart, if they are
to be ever attained.  It should then be said here that,
when Mr. Dwight, after six years' practice at the bar resolved to change his profession, it was not from any previous disrelish for its studies or its other duties, nor from any
scruples as to its being consistently pursued by a Christian
man. Many years afterwards, when the writer of this
Memoir, having in contemplation a similar change in his
own case from the Law to the Ministry, consulted his
Brother as to its expediency, the answer was given in the
negative.
His health which had been uninterrupted for many years,
was weakened nearly two years after his admission to the
bar by a lingering fever.  While thus unwell, a dose of
mercury was prescribed among other remedies by the physician; but instead of the ordinary healthful action of the
medicine, its influence was most noxious. A fiery eruption
soon extended over different portions of the bodily frame,
the irritation of which was most distressing, and which no
applications could effectually remove.  Of this malady a
more particular account will be given hereafter.
It has been already said that Mr. Dwight, when the
ministry had been named to him as a profession by his
father, had replied that he did not deem himself a renewed




XXXii                  MEMOIR.
man. It has -been also observed, that his life had been
irreproachable.  In his domestic and social relations, he
had been, to the external eye, one who apparently feared
God and kept his commandments.  None were more constant in the public exercises of religion: he had maintained
family prayer from the commencement, nor is there reason
to doubt that he was regular in his private devotions.
Many would have named him as an example to not a few
professed Christians, and he himself could have truly
said —'" All these things have I kept from my youth up."
Whether, while he thus disclaimed the character of personal piety, he was expecting to secure in time the requisite evidence of possessing it by his continuance in this
course of blameless living, or whether he was waiting for
some peculiar intervention of divine grace to remove every
obstacle, cannot be asserted. It is not improbable that he
was resting to some extent on both of these anticipations.
But the time'at length arrived, when he was to rest on
other hopes than these.,At this season, in the summer of 1815, a revival of
religion had been making some progress in the First Congregational Church, of which Rev. Dr. Taylor, now Professor of Didactic Theology in Yale College, was then the
Pastor.  On some one Sabbath at this time a sermon was
preached by the Pastor on the subject of prayer, with a
special reference to the prayers of unconverted persons,the preacher affirming that all prayer, to be acceptable to
God, must be offered in true penitence and faith, or, in
other words, by a holy heart.  Mr. Dwight, who was then
a parishioner, heard this discourse, and was much dissatisfied with its strain.  In describing it to others he stated,.and no doubt sincerely, that Mr. T. had virtually preached,
if he had not directly said, that it is sinful for impenitent




MEMOIR.                  Xxxiii
men to pray.  The latter gentleman was informed respecting Mr. Dwight's complaints of the sermon, and on the
following Sabbath he pursued the subject at greaterlength,
and especially as a reply to such objections,-using in his
arguments the most familiar and direct style.  The truth
thus presented was accompanied with other power than
that of the preacher. He for whom it was peculiarly intended, when entering, as was his wont, on the evening
devotions of the family, was soon compelled to desist,-his
deep emotion preventing him from proceeding.  The next
morning he called at the house of his pastor, and after
conversing for a moment on indifferent topics, the tears
began to run down his face, and he then without delay
told Mr. Taylor that he had come to converse with him
respecting his own salvation. All timidity and hesitation
were at once dismissed, his objections to the sentiment
respecting the nature of the prayers of impenitent persons
were abandoned, and he became at once absorbed in the
great question of his own reconciliation to his Maker. His
convictions, as Dr. T. informs me, from whom I have received this narrative, were very deep and thorough; and
within a few days he began to be conscious of a new and
sacred peace. O blessed change, when man thus becomes
" a new creature!'
Some readers of these pages may look with incredulity
or wonder at this stage of the narrative, assigning either
no explanation of the issue as it became now apparent in
Mr. Dwight, or ascribing it to mere fanaticism, or enthusiasm.  But such a solution will not answer.  The previous
MIemoir assures us that he possessed neither of these temperainents, neither did they control him at any portion of
his subsequent life. Though of ardent temperament, this
had been a characteristic from boyhood, it was not now first




xxxiv                   MEMOIR.
developed. I-e was too intelligent, too rational, to be led
away by religious delusions; nor had his previous career
been stained by any of those flagrant or secret crimes, the
remembrance-of which sometimes overwhelmns their subject with remorse.  Reasoning directly from  the effect to
its adequate -cause, we can assign none,-if we profess to
credit the revelations of the New Testament-but the
truth made efficacious by the Holy Spirit's grace.
The change in Mr. Dwight was so marked, as immediately to be visible. He had no false shame to deter him
from openly glorying in the Cross, and he began at once to
act, as one who had consecrated himself without reserve to
the service of Christ.  In the public and private duties of
religion, and in familiar conversation, he was now evidently
swayed by a new spirit. He also began, in company with two
other gentlemen who had been long professed disciples, to
conduct social religious meetings in various private families.
So evident indeed was: the change, that the opinion was
soon entertained among his friends that he would speedily
relinquish the law for the ministry. Such was indeed his
early-formed purpose, which he communicated at the time
to his pastor, and doubtless also to his wife and his father;
but, which, for obvious reasons, was then made known to
but few others.  What were the chief considerations which
thus swayed him, the writer is ignorant.  Every such case
must be, necessarily, determined by its own peculiar relations.  He was, probably, conscious of a far stronger
desire for the ministry than for the law,-nay, the latter
profession had not, improbably, become distasteful to him;
his anticipated usefulness, as he must have decided, would
be greater; -and then his father's prayer and vow, though
not prescribing for him the rule of duty, must have been
seriously pondered. lIe had no misgivings as to the




MEMOIR.                    XXxv
decision; and as soon as the proper time had come for
action, he acted accordingly.
Every such case, it has been just said, has its own characteristic features, so that no one can become a precedent
for others.  Unquestionably, Christian men; are as truly
needed at the bar as in the ministry. A pious lawyer or
a pious physician, may, each, not less signally honor the
gospel during a useful life, than a preacher of righteousness.; In many cases, perhaps in most, if the newly converted lawyer still retains his relish for his profession, it
would be unwise in him to forsake it for the pulpit.'If his
desire for the self-denying duties of the ministry is so strong
as with difficulty to be resisted, then, if possessed of the.
appropriate mental training, and if neither his age nor circumstances dissuade him, he may properly yield to that
desire.
His purposed change of profession, as has been said,
was not immediately announced.  He was to'adjust his
professional business, which had been gradually. augmenting, and this required considerable time.  He was also to
become himself possessed of that preliminary state of
thought and feeling, of purpose and conversation generally,
which should render the change, when publicly announced,
-familiar instead of strange to himself; and this demanded
much time for reading, for reflection, for conversation with
wise counsellors.  Pursuing the order of dates, it may be
here observed, that he made a public profession of his faith,
in the First Congregational Church of Neow Iaven, Oct.
29, 1815. That he was received, and probably in the,
early part of the following year, under the care.of theAssociation which subsequently licensed him to preach, can
scarcely be doubted, as the latter measure is regularly a
consequent upon the former in such bodies; but of the,




Xxxvi                  MEMOIR.
time when he was thus received, I have no knowledge.
He was licensed by the West Association of New Haven
County, Oct. 8, 1816.
Soon afterwards he preached his first sermon. The text,
as has been observed on one of the earliest of these pages,
was:-" For this child I prayed, &c."  His father, as it
has been also said, was a hearer. What reflections, what
emotions, must have crowded upon both! In the afternoon
of the same day, the father preached in the same pulpit,
that of the First Congregational Church. As the latter
was then sinking under the disease which proved fatal in
the succeeding winter, this discourse was, in the providence
of God, the last which he delivered.  The last discourse
of the father, and the first discourse of the son, delivered
on the same Sabbath and in the same pulpit,-and of a
son who had been thus restored from that desperate sickness of childhood, and whose life had now all converged, as
it were, to this very issue;-this was a rare coincidence!
A few weeks subsequent, Mr. Dwight was chosen by the
Senate of the United States their Chaplain for the session
of 1816-17, and accompanied by Mrs. Dwight, he proceeded to Washington, where he passed the winter.  His
official duties were far from being burdensome; he formed
some pleasant acquaintances and renewed others, and the
session passed away for him not unprofitably. While he
was thus occupied, he henrd the tidings of his father's
decease at New Haven, and he was overborne with grief.
His filial affection and reverence had been always signal,
and this event, which he had not anticipated, required the
exercise of all his submission.  His meeting again for the
first time, on his return, his mother and a younger brother,
who had been present with his father during the last sickness, was but the irrepressible exhibition of his emotions.




MEMOIR.                  XXXv1i
Well does the writer remember the hurried entrance, and
then the repeated convulsive bursts of anguish, and then
the bending down upon a table for support under the shock
that was all but rending his frame!
In the summer of 1817 he was unanimously invited by
the Park Street Church and congregation in Boston, to
become their pastor.  This invitation he accepted, and he
was ordained Sept. 3, 1817.  The discourse on the occasion was preached by Dr. Beecher, then pastor of the
church in Litchfield, Conn., from Psalm xix. 7-10.  Its
title, as subsequently printed, was, 1" The Bible, a Code of
Laws." On the same occasion were ordained several missionaries, who were soon to proceed to other countries
under the control of the American Board.
Mr. Dwight was more generally known as the Pastor of
the Park Street Church than in any other relation. The
years thus passed, were his years of greatest usefulness,
It will be obviously proper, accordingly, that a somewhat
more extended account should be given of this portion of
his life. That this may be properly done, it will be necessary to allude to the original formation of the church itself.
Soon after the commencement of the present century, it
began to be extensively known that the preaching of the
ministers then occupying the Congregational churches in
Boston, had become widely different in its doctrinal character from that of their earlier predecessors.  What are
usually termed, the doctrines of grace, or what has been
distinctively called, the Orthodox system of faith, had been
gradually relinquished; and what is now familiarly termed,
liberal Christianity, had been made the substitute. It is
unnecessary to inquire as to the cause, or the progress, of
this change: the fact, with which alone we are concerned
here, is now universally atcmitted.  So gradual however
D




XXYiii                 MEMOIR.
had it become, that, at the period just named, but one
church, —' the Old- South "-'was- considered as in any
measureretainining the primitive faith -of New England;
and in even this church -that faith was almost struggling for
existence.
-Some few-of the members of this:church who- deeply
deplored this departure from  the belief' of. their ancestors,
began -at this time occasionally-to meet- each other for- fraternal -communion and conversation; and these. meetings,
in conjunction- with -those of a circle of pious females which
were similar, continued for several years. They were then
induced- to attempt to build a house:of worship, and to form
a church,-=-the creed of which was -prepared for the occasion, and was distinctively orthodox. - Their new sanctuary
was dedicated -in January- 1810; and in July, 1811, Dr.
Griffins then a professor; in the Theological Seminary' at
Andover, was installed as the ffirst pastor.  He was dismissed in May, 1815.
-From- this statement, purposely  made as concise as:
possible, it will be seen that the — position now- occupied by
Mr. Dwight was peculiar.  The enterprise, as it:may be
termed, of the little band which had resulted in the formation of the Park Street Church- and congregation, had- been
viewed with general jealousy from the beginning; the new
sanctuary had involved them  largely -in debt; and the
style of preaching of the:first Pastor, (of which- the Park
Street -Lectures -are a specimen,) powerful as it -was admitted to be, had -but augmented -the prevalent disfavor
towards the new Society. — Their numbers also were com-r.
paratively few -.  With the -state of things, as it has- been
now.described, their new pastor was fully acquainted.
He entered with his.whole heart upon-this difficult sphere
of- duty..'His constitutional ardor was now regulated by




MEMOIR0.:                  XXXiX
Christian:principle, but its energy was not lessened.::   s
conversion had been attended, as we have seen, by a pro-.
cess of thorough conviction; and the first -features of: this
vital change often continue: to. be characteristic through
life.  They.evidently pervaded his entire ministry.-; He
had abandoned his previous; profession and renounced all
that the world could offer him in prospect, because he had
become conscious that he was ",not his own;'" and as the
servant of his Divine. Master, he proceeded with moremthan
ordinary fidelity and self-denial to, do his appointed work..
In his different departments of labor, the church were prepared to give him the requisite co-operation, and he found
among them many efficient ".fellow-helpers to the truth."
His primary sphere of labor and of usefulness he rightly deemed to be, the pulpit.  He was to preach the pure
gospel.  This was the cardinal object for which he had
been invited thither by those, who wished that the truth as:
it is in Jesus might be once more proclaimed throughout
that city. of the Pilgrims as in:former days, for the edifica-,
tion of. the saints and.for the conversion:of sinners.  He
began, with such views, to' address his discourses directly
to the conscience.  His:preaching, from  the very commencement, was so strongly characterized by directness and
pointedness, that he might:be described,as one:who, in the,
best. sense of.the language, was always aiming at. a revival,
of religion either among his unrenewed or his believing
hearers.  As the sermons which he left behind:him, and of.
which an unusually Islarge number have been completed,considering the comparatively brief period of his ministry,
are examined in their chronological order, it is surprising
to note how constantly such. is the strain. Whatever the
leading subject, whether it. related to men as renewed or
unconverted, or simply as moral agents, whether doctrinal.




xi                     MEMOIR.
or preceptive, whether intended for instruction or impression, the discourse is rarely closed without addresses to one
class, and ordinarily to both classes, of the most searching
character. There is no harshness of language nor of sentiment.  There is no accumulation of fearful scriptural
terms and images, as if a mere repetition of horrors were
the chief employment of the preacher. There is no selfrighteousness, no assumed air of a judge calmly sentencing
a criminal, either of which evinces that the preacher is a
stranger to the meekness and compassion of the Saviour.
But there are constantly found a directness and a closeness of application, both to the worldling and the Christian,
which evince that, forgotten as such preaching had been
until within the past few years, he meant to declare to
them the whole counsel of God. As auxiliary to this result, Mr. Dwight adopted from  the commencement the
most simple and familiar phraseology. His own taste, as
we have seen, was highly cultivated; his conceptions were
often poetical; and had he coveted, as do many, a repute
for pulpit eloquence, few, it is believed, would have surpassed him. But as if such objects were unthought of, he
has adopted in his ordinary discourses a phraseology so
plain as to be intelligible to the most illiterate and obtuse
ear. The reader of the polished pages of some of our
modern classics would have pronounced much of Mr.
Dwight's preaching distasteful for this reason, had he not
been too much impressed by its directness and energy to
permit him to be critical.  As illustrations of this characteristic, I would refer to the first four Discourses of this
volume which follow the Discourses on the Death of Christ;
and also to the Discourse on the subject-Why many
Christians mistake their own characters.  It is believed
that but few published American sermons are more pointed,




MEMOIR.                      xli
more fitted to convince the: conscience, than~ these, while
few are so absolutely inartificial and plain in their style.
The subjects of his discourses were habitually selectedon the same principle: all were directly aimed at the promotion of holiness.:Had his:ministerial course extended,
through twenty instead of eight years, his range of subjects would have been doubtless much more comprehensive; but during its brief continuance he seemed incapable,
as it were, of contemplating but two objects,-the immediate conversion of the sinner, and the constant growth of
the believer, as the results of his preaching.  His sermons.
were accordingly to an unusual degree the:exposition and
illustration of such themes as, the sinfulness of unrenewed
men in their relations to the law, the providence and the
grace of God, the duty -of immediate repentance, the sinner's fixed disinclination to return to God the only inability,
the fulness of grace and salvation in the Saviour, the
sincerity of the divine invitations, the necessity-of- regen.
eration, the duty of constant growth in -holiness, the future
glory of the church-now  rapidly approaching, and the
blessedness of the heavenly state.  With these were:associated among other topics three to which he gave a special
prominence, the Christian training of children by their
parents, revivals of religion, and the errors of the system
which had been so widely substituted in that city for the
doctrine of grace. While there is scarce a subject which
has not been treated in some form or other, for of -him it
may be truly affirmed that he purposely kept back nothing,
these were the themes to the enforcement of which his own
conversion in -its characteristic features had inclined him,
these constituted the staple of his preaching.  And theses
as has been just remarked, were- ever -presented with. a
directness so personal,, the hearer, -instead of being, per.
D*i




8tii:                  B~MEMOIR.
mitted to conjecture whether another might not be intended
instead of himself, or of pausing to criticise the preacher's
oratory, was constrained so anxiously to look within his own
heart, that it is matter of wonder how speedily popular Mr.
Dwight became, and how steadily he retained this popularity.
In addition to the labors of the pulpit, there were various other modes in which, as would be expected, he habitually sought access to his people for their benefit. Besides
a third and familiar meeting on Sabbath evening, he conducted a regular meeting on the week, in each of which a
similar earnestness and solemnity attended his ministrations. But he should be specially noticed for his deep
interest, as a preacher and pastor, in the young. His
frequent discoursing on the duty of parents to train up
their children religiously, has been just mentioned. Though
himself the parent of but one child, and of which he was
almost immediately bereft, no father of a large family
seemed to be more fully pervaded by a sense of the obligations thus originated; none could raise the standard of
duty higher, or more feelingly urge its claims. One of his
discourses on this subject, which was preached in various
places, was at a subsequent period considerably enlarged,
and was printed in New York, in 1838, as an 18 mo. of
82 pages, with the title of "FORBID THEM NOT: or the
Hindrances, which prevent little children from coming to
Christ." Few of the same nature are better fitted to be
useful, and had not the copyright been sold, it might have
appeared in this volume.  With the same object in view
he established a Pastor's Bible Class for the younger members of the congregation, including those principally who
were above fourteen years of age. This is supposed to
have been the first such class ever established in Boston,
or in the churches in that vicinity. Its number was at




MEMOIR.-                     xliii
first less than forty, but was soon increased so as to crowd
the room. To use the words of one describing it,-" There
the descent of the Divine Spirit was early manifested.
The lucid exposition and faithful application of Scripture
truths caused many a suppressed sigh to be heard, many a
silent tear to fall, and many an anxious soul mentally to
inquire-' What shall I do to be saved?'"   Mrs. Dwight
was accustomed to be present with her husband at the
meetings of this Bible Class, when she occupied a particular seat; and a small picture, subsequently engraved, was
executed, representing Mr. Dwight in the attitude of
addressing the Class which surrounded him, while his wife
is seated in her usual position by his side.
His pastoral visits were made an important means of
usefulness.  -Iis multiplied duties did not permit him to
make such visits frequent, neither is it supposed that, except in peculiar cases, they can be repeated often to
advantage; but when he was able from time to time thus
to call on his people, his evident design was the promotion
of their eternal welfare.  On such occasions he conversed
with the members of the family and the domestics, as a
pastor who sought familiarly to apply the instructions of
the pulpit, and then closed the interview with prayer.
His deep feeling and solemnity steadily tended to
strengthen every good impression.  Similar to such visits
were those which he was accustomed to make to little associations of ladies, who held meetings among themselves for
their religious improvement.
His efforts for the prosperity of the foreign missionary
enterprise were conspicuous.  At the time of his ordination the American Board had been in existence but seven
years, and its sphere of operations, as well as its resources,
was narrow; but among its many friends who have beheld




xliv                  MIEMOIR.
its rapid enlargement in later seasons, none have been more
zealous than was then Mr. Dwight. He personally introduced the observance of the Monthly Concert into the
Park Street Church, and into the Congregational churches
of Boston, and the system of contributions which has subsequently been there maintained.  At these meetings he
was accustomed to communicate such religious intelligence
as was new and important, and also to describe geographically the missionary stations and the surrounding regions
of country. His extraordinary knowledge of geography
was here peculiarly serviceable, and as the general subject
itself habitually awakened his lively interest, and as but
few persons could more command the attention of auditors
either in conversation or when speaking alone, it will not
be doubted, as some of those who were then his parishioners have recently stated to me, that these concerts possessed  an  extraordinary  attraction.  It may be also
observed here that the mission of the American tBoard
which was established at Jerusalem, was first suggested, as
is believed, by Mr. Dwight.
The preaching of Mr. Dwight, as has been previously
said, seemed to be constantly directed, as it were, towards
one great object,-a revival of religion among his church
and congregation; and some of the additional means which
he adopted in more familiar intercourse, have been also
noticed. As has been already implied, the seasons when
these visitations of salvation were frequently known among
the Congregational churches in Boston had long, since
disappeared, so that " a captivity," as it has been
termed, of more  than  " seventy  years"  had  now
elapsed. But the day for their return had -now at length
come.  In the summer and autumn of 1822 the commencement. of a- revival was apparent in the Park Street




MEMOIR.                     xlv
Church, which soon after extended to the two other orthodox churches in that city. Its subjects were speedily so
numerous, that from three to four hundred persons assembled in a common public room for the purpose of inquiry
and counsel from their pastors. The revival continued
through the following winter, and the labors of Mr.
Dwight, as well as of the other pastors, were multiplied
and constant. They were aided by the co-operation of
their respective churches, and the results were evidently
most auspicious.  When the spring had come, the same
demand still existing for ministerial effort, several of the
most experienced and distinguished ministers from  the
churches in New England were sent for to assist the
wearied pastors of the churches in Boston. This relief
had become indispensable to the subject of this Memoir,
who had become exhausted for the time by the incessant
demands on his bodily and mental powers, so that he was
constrained to travel for a season for rest and recruiting.
But the ultimate results, as just observed, were most auspicious.  Large accessions were made to these respective
churches, the number in Park Street, where the revival
commenced, being the largest. The preliminary work of
conviction was also peculiarly thorough, so that the changes
were more than ordinarily enduring. The influence on
that church, particularly, has been visible until the present
time.  This, their first season of refreshing from  above,
has been also, as I am informed, the most signal. How
much of the subsequent growth of Christ's kingdom which
has been apparent in the multiplication of orthodox churches
in Boston and in their existing efficiency, is to be directly
ascribed to this first and great revival, it is difficult indeed
to conjecture. The immediate influence of these scenes on
Mr. Dwight was such as would have been anticipated from




XlVi                    MEMOIR.
his temperament and character. - An unusual mellowness
of feeling pervaded his conversation, and the tear was ever
ready to flow, so:that those who sought his counsels were
assured of what is so:needful at such a time,.-their pastor's deep sympathy.  As the result, the converts loved
him with an unusual affection. Few pastors indeed have:
ecqually possessed, what the apostle Paul valued so highly,the love of their spiritual children.  HTe merited this as
truly by his faithfulness as by his tender sympathies, for
while he anxiously sought to strengthen the weak and to
guide the doubting, none dreaded more than he to encourage a fallacious hope.
While Mr. Dwight was thus laboring in his Master's
service and at length reaping the abundant harvest, it will
be supposed that he must have become extensively known
to those who desired the progress of evangelical religion in
Boston.  His house had thus become the resort of many
visitors from different portions of the country, who were
cordially welcomed, for, like his father, he was "' given to
hospitality."  The courtesy which he was thus showing
under his own roof, he persuaded the families of the congregation, it may be proper here to observe, to show publicly on a conspicuous occasion. The evangelical Congregational ministers of the state were: not accustomed: at this
time, to visit Boston in the month of May, as at the present day.  It was at his suggestion, that zthe hospitality of
his own people (and perhaps,-also, of the other kindred
churches in the city) was tendered to these ministers
throughout the commoniwealth, in anticipation of the then
approaching season of May.  The tender was accepted;
and, as the result, a similar yearly attendance -has been
secured each succeeding anniversary.:The fruit of his labors had now become apparent in the,




MEMI1OIR.:Xlvii
enlargement of the society, not -less than in the growth of
vital holiness. - At his ordination, their numbers were few
and their:strength was feeble; but at: the close of the
revival just noticed, they had become numerous and powerful.  Many young men, a most desirable' element to
every religious congregation, were first drawn by his reputation to become his hearers; and when; converted, as
many of them were, they added strength to the growing
body.  But -while. prosperity of every: kind was thus
attendant, the pastor, to whose indefatigable labors it was
so largely owing, had been for some time paying the tax
so frequently demanded in such cases, in his impaired
health and vigor.  His recruiting during a brief interval
of rest after the revival, was but temporary, and in the
summer of 1824 it was evident that a protracted season of
relaxation had become indispensable.  It was therefore
unanimously voted by the church, that he might be absent
from his pastoral duties for a- year, -with the design that he
should visit Europe;- they also voted that his salary should
be continued, and that the pulpit should be supplied at
their expense, (luring this period. Mr. Dwight accordingly
soon set sail from  New York for Europe in the month of
August, and after a voyage in which he suffered much
from sickness,: he landed on the continent.
His. absence continued through the allotted term, he
having returned in August, 1825.  Hie visited France,
Switzerland, and Italy, which was his eastern terminus;
and retraced his -way on the continent through Austria and
Germany, after which he- arrived at London in the anniversary week of May, 1825.  His' continental journeys
were very pleasant and -salutary to his health, and as he
presented himself as a delegate:from  one or more of our
national societies at the  anniversaries in London, he was




xlviii                 MEMOIR.
introduced at once, without using one of his letters, to a
large circle of desirable acquaintances.  So constant was
the demand upon him as a speaker, that he spoke ten different times in about eleven days, —the call being often first
made as he sat on the platform, and with an earnestness
which constrained him, however reluctant, to yield. A
more extended notice would be given of this tour, including
some very interesting incidents, had not a packet of his
letters containing the only account been unfortunately
destroyed.
On his return Mr. Dwight was cordially welcomed by
his people, and he resumed his official duties with apparently recruited health. His labors were continued with no
serious embarrassment till the close of January, 1826, when,
in consequence of unusual exertions in speaking in the
pulpit, he perceived his voice to be much injured, so that
every subsequent effort to speak was attended with great
difficulty.  This evil he ascribed, and probably correctly,
to the unusual dimensions of the church in which he
preached, its area then being very large and its elevation
uncommonly great.  Neither did he possess, as do many
public speakers, that skill, in adapting the voice to the
structure of the room that is to be filled, which is indispensable to the health and comfort of the preacher.  Unlike most persons, he had not what is called-a musical
ear; he could not discriminate between the different notes
of the octave; so that, although his voice was uncommonly
pleasant in conversation, he seemed unable to regulate it
when its tones were elevated. His difficulty in speaking
was at times excessive, and apparently fromn this cause
only. Much indeed of his previous ill health, which had
occasioned his, European excursion, had been thus
originated. He became accordingly convinced that a dis,




MEMOIR.                    xlix
ability, occurring so soon after his return, and from a cause
which was irremovable-as a change in the dimensions of
the building seemed to be altogether inexpedient, when
contemplated in connection with his many pastoral duties,
rendered his dismission necessary both for the people and
himself.  He came to this conclusion with extreme regret,
for the union had been most happy; but his opinion having
become fixed, he urged the necessity of his dismission so
strongly that the congregation could only comply.  He
was dismissed April 10, 1826, both the people and the
council bearing honorable attestation to his fidelity and usefulness.
That he was sincere in these convictions, is not to be
doubted: yet it is questionable whether he did not act precipitately. So great had been his usefulness, so harmonious the connection, that it s severance-whatever the
occasion-was to be exceedingly deprecated.  No pastoral
station could have been selected for him in New England
that was more desirable. At this very time his prospects
of a long ministerial career, steadily brightening with good
to men and with honor to God, were never more distinct.
Had he made a longer experiment of his power of speaking, or resorted to a temporary cessation from  the effort,
the difficulty might, perhaps, have been overcome.  Without questioning the entire sincerity of his brother's course
in this matter, the writer has ever regretted the decision.
Soon after his dismission Mr. Dwight returned to New
Haven, in which city and its vicinity he resided the seven
succeeding years. During the earlier portion of this time
he preached occasionally in various pulpits, and might have
again assumed the pastoral office, had he favored the application. Perhaps the only reason why he was not speedily
resettled, was his commencement of an important and
E




1                      MEMOIR.
arduous enterprise-that of writing an extended Life of
the first President Edwards,- and of editing a new and
enlarged edition of his works.. This work had been recommended to him, nay, it may be said, urged upon him, by
his father in preceding years; it was a work also of which
he had never lost sight while in Boston, but for the execution of which he was then disabled by his uninterrupted
ministerial duties.  He had however, even then, been diligently collecting the materials.  At New  Haven, and
while residing also occasionally, for the sake of the needed
retirement, in some of the neighboring villages, he possessed
adequate leisure; and then entering on the work, he prosecuted it with more or less rapidity for a number of the
following years.  This edition of Edward's Works was
ultimately published at New York, in 1829, in ten octavo
volumes, of which the first volume contains the Life. This
constitutes a very large octavo of 766 pages, and indicates
on every page the fidelity and unwearied research of its
author. All previous biographies of President Edwards
are little more than a brief succession of annals, compared
with this.  The introductory account of his childhood; the
narrative of his ministry at Northampton, and especially
of the events ending in his dismission; his personal history,
while at Stockbridge, with the account of the machinations
of his persecutors at that time; and much also of the subsequent part of the volume; are, in  many portions,
entirely new, and in others are so largely amplified, that
no additional biography will, probably, be hereafter deemed
necessary. In the English reprint of this edition of Edwards' Works, this Life is styled by Henry Rogers, (the
associate Editor of the Edinburgh Review, and the writer
of the article on Faith and Revelation in one of its late
numbers) in an introductory Essay, " the admirable Life




MEMOIR                       Iii
of Edwards."  The additions to the Worcester edition of
Edwards' Works, which were made in Mr. Dwight's edition,
consist of the Life, just mentioned-rin itself a very large
volume; of the Life and Diary of Brainerd, which, in
addition to the very brief account in the Worcester Edition, occupies almost a volume; of Miscellaneous Observations of President Edwards; of Types of the Messiah;
of Notes on the Bible; and of many Occasional Sermons.
Early in 1828, Mr. Dwight commenced, in conjunction
with his youngest brother, Henry, a large school for boys
in New Haven, which was modelled on the plan of the
German Gymnasiums, and which during its continuance
was familiarly called by that name.  The design was, to
furnish a thorough classical education; and for such lads
as were not to be trained for college, the best preliminary
instruction for active life.  A  succession of first rate
teachers was employed for the various departments, and
in addition, the two principals themselves gave instruction
in certain branches, while exercising a general superintendence.  The system was so complete that, while the
school continued-which was more than three years —no
college in New England could probably afford superior
advantages to those pursuing the same branches of study.
Boys and young men were sent thither from every part of
the country, the number for a season exceeding one
hundred, and for a considerable part of the time being
very large'. Towards the close the number was much
diminished. The health of the younger Mr. Dwight, long
imperfect, became still feebler; while that of the elder
brother, which had been long affected by the malady
already briefly noticed, was gradually unfitting him for the
toilsome duties of such a station. The Gymnasium was
discontinued in the summer, or fall, of 1831.




lii                    >MEMOIR.
A  more distinct notice must be here taken of this
malady. Previous to its commencement, Mr. Dwight
possessed a remarably vigorous constitution, and enjoyed
as uniform health and cheerfulness as are almost ever
allotted to man.  It commenced in 1812, about two years
after his admission to the bar.  In consequence of a sudden change of temperature succeeding in the evening of a
very warm day in October, he became exceedingly chilled,
and before the next morning he was seized with a violent
lung fever.  To arrest this fever at the commencement a
large dose of calomel was prescribed, which produced a
more distressing salivation, as the subject of it long afterwards remarked, than any other case which he had ever
seen, except one in the general hospital of Paris.  His
confinement to his bed continued for five weeks, and during
this period measures were adopted to promote a constant
perspiration, which-whatever may have been its effect on
the fever-carried the mercury to the third skin, where it
lodged, and immediately produced a mercurial sub-fever.
These particulars and others which follow are taken from a
description of the malady, given by himself in a letter to
another, which was written twenty-five years after its commencement.  This description is so minute and accurate,
as to furnish important hints to a skilful physician respecting so peculiar a complaint; while it exhibits a case of
physical suffering so aggravated and long continued, as to
occasion wonder that health had not been long previously
completely destroyed, and reason often driven from its
throne.  The details of this letter cannot, of course, be
here given.  The disease first manifested itself in a fiery
irritation over the crown of the head, and thence extended
from the neck over the upper half of the front of the
body, as well as locally on the back; occasioning in various




MEMOIR.                      liii
places an almost leprous incrustation of the skin, from
which, when broken, a caustic, poisonous ichor would issue.
Other localities of the body were similarly affected, in
which the disease ultimately became seated, occasioning
often great suffering during the day but almost intolerable
anguish at night. The sufferer was then compelled to pass
regularly through a process of measures to secure relief,
which seemed only less painful than the torment of the disease itself. Without these, to sleep was impossible; and when
using them, sleep was scarcely ever secured —as he says in
this description —until two in the morning, and usually not
until three. These particulars are here given, as without
them no just conception can be formed of the habitual sufferings of Mr. Dwight during a large portion of the last threefifths of his life.  A further but brief notice of the same
disease will be also necessary on a subsequent page.  No
other reference will be here made to it than to say, that,
after having endured the distress which it occasioned him
for twenty-five successive years, he thus describes it at the
close of the letter:-" If there be in the present life any
cup of unmixed and double distilled misery-it is this."
Mr. Dwight continued to reside at New Haven from the
closing of the Gymnasium-school in 1831, until the spring
of 1833.  In March of that year he was chosen President
of Hamilton College in New York, by the Trustees of that
institution, and in April he signified his acceptance of the
appointment. He was inducted into office on the second
Wednesday of August.  In September, he received the
honorary degree of Doctor of 1Divinity from Yale College.
The institution over which he now began to preside, was
at this time in a most unprosperous condition. From various causes which had been for some time operating, the
number of students had been greatly reduced, and the




liv                    MEMOIR.
college itself had become deeply in debt. An attempt had
been made to raise by subscription from its friends a sum
sufficient to discharge these debts: this had proved however, an almost entire failure, and was soon abandoned.
Dr. Dwight was but imperfectly acquainted with this state
of the college, when he accepted the appointment.
To save the institution from ruin it was indispensable
that a large sum of money should be raised, and the new
President, at the meeting of the Trustees, when its acceptance was made known, was appointed 1" an Agent to raise
funds which would place that College on a permanent
footing." The sum of fifty thousand dollars, to be invested
as a permanent fund, was deemed necessary for this object,
and not less necessary were deemed the personal efforts of
Dr. Dwight to secure it. Had he foreseen the burden
which he was thus called to assume, it is not improbable
that he would have declined accepting his office.  His
proper duties were a general superintendence of the institution, and the personal instruction of the senior class. To
relinquish these for a large portion of the year, that he
might publicly present the wants of the college at meetings
in the different towns which were to be visited, and then
personally solicit subscriptions from various individuals,
was an exchange little expected and less welcome. But
having accepted the office, and perceiving that the efforts
contemplated were indispensable to save the college, he
entered on his self-denying work with great zeal and
energy. Accompanied by one of the Trustees, who had
been appointed his associate, he travelled extensively over
various portions of the state, making public addresses in
the larger towns, and obtaining subscriptions from  a great
number of individuals. Five months, if not a larger part,
of the college year of 18-32-4 were thus occupied, and




MEMOIR.                      Iv
including a large sum which was obtained by one of the
professors who also labored for the same object, the subscription of fifty thousand dollars was completed, by the
following June.
Dr. Dwight instructed the senior class of the year just
specified during the whole period, except while absent on
this unofficial course of duty. He also instructed the class
immediately succeeding throughout the entire year. The
text books were Locke, Paley's Moral Philosophy, Say's
Political Economy, and Butler's Analogy. In his instructions he made the specific lesson, whatever it may have
been, simply the text for the elucidation and inculcation
of his own views, assenting to the author or differing from
him, as his own independent course of study and thought
inclined him. This, as one of his pupils informs me, generally, he was accustomed to do with an amplitude of discussion and illustration which stimulated the young men themselves to the proper mental efforts-both as students, and
at the recitation.  Such, it needs not be here observed, is
the only mode of teaching, which deserves to be called
instruction.  The teacher, whatever his department, and
whether in a college or theological seminary-whether in a
school of law or medicine, if he would not merely quicken
the memory of the students at the expense of dulling their
intellects, will do something more than inculcate implicit
deference for the text-book and its author, and then bestow
the largest praise on him who most correctly repeats the
lesson.  Aside from  the exact sciences, there is but one
book which is to be thus treated; and its expounders and
commentators, from Augustin down to Edwards, and to the
present hour, can claim as little the unqualified assent of
the youthful student as any other writer.  Dr. Dwight,
While presiding at Hamilton, as while a tutor at Yale,




lvi                    MEMOIR.
taught the young men to think for themselves, and,
as inseparable from this, to call no man master. Brief as
was his connection with the college, he succeeded in imparting to his immediate pupils much of the same spirit.
In such instructions he was peculiarly aided, both by his
ardent temperament, and by his uncommon powers of
address.  None who have listened to him, whether as the
preacher, or instructor, or in familiar conversation, ever
questioned his sincerity or his earnestness, when speaking
on an important subject; and the favorable impression thus
made, was deepened among his pupils and in the familiar
circle by his copiousness of thought and language, and by
his brilliant imagination.  His presidency continued but
little more than two years, so that his talents for instruction
were but partially displayed. As an evidence of the
respect and confidence which he acquired, however, it may
be added, that one long conversant with the institution
indirectly informs me, that " he never heard a syllable of
complaint lisped against him as a teacher." Another, the
pupil already referred to, describes him as " a very superior
teacher." A third, who is also an alumnus of the college,
and who has been long an Editor of a very widely circulated religious newspaper in the city of New York, thus
speaks of his presidency generally.  " The students were
exceedingly charmed with his style of instructions; and to
this day, now seventeen years since, I remember it to have
been  very quickening, suggestive  and brilliant.  His
departure was much regretted by the students, especially
those of the more advanced classes.  His whole general
influence on them as a teacher, a disciplinarian and a man,
was such as to wake them up from the sluggish, inefficient,
inactive state of mind into which they had settled, and to
make them feel that they had something to do in the




MIEMOIR.                    lvii
world-to make them work like men."  This last informant
mentions him, as " the one teacher, who did more than all
the other teachers combined, whose instructions he had
himself ever enjoyed," to stir him up to a proper conception of his duties and privileges as a student and a man.
Allusion is made by this gentleman to Dr. Dwight's
course as a disciplinarian.  I learn from  still another
source, that " he was decided in discipline; but that he
endeavored to anticipate the necessity for its exercise, by
giving to the students, both in his own class room and in
the general meetings of the whole body, sound and wholesome instruction and advice." As a matter of fact, no
difficulties in the government of the college occurred
during his presidency.
In Sept., 1835, Dr. Dwight deemed it his duty to
resign the presidency of HIamilton College. IHis reasons,
as specified in his letter of resignation, were these: " That
the College was much more deeply in debt than he had
anticipated on his acceptance; that, although after a year
of unceasing toil, mortification and self-denial, he and
others had succeeded in raising a fund of $50,000, the
college had still a debt of $15,000 or more without means
of payment; that, although since his accession, the number
of students had been steadily increasing, yet there was no
prospect that the College would attain a permanently prosperous footing on its present location; that he had, therefore advocated its removal to Utica, which project the
Trustees had refused to countenance; and that he, therefore, felt it his duty to resign." How far these reasons
should have availed with him, the writer feels incompetent
to decide. The college which has subsequently received
important aid from the state, and from private donors, has
been for some years very flourishing. That the president




lviii                  MEMOIR.
was sincere in his convictions, is undoubted.  Still, it is to
be regretted, that he did not remain longer at his post,
and patiently exert the influence which he was widely
acquiring for the removal of existing evils whatever they
were.  It is scarcely to be doubted that, at no distant
season, most of them would have disappeared.
After his resignation Dr. Dwight returned to New
Haven, where he resided, though often absent, until the
fall of 1838.  During this period he spent a few months
in presenting the subject of African Colonization to public
audiences, in its immediate connection with the Pennsylvania Colonization Society.  Had he possessed full health,
none of our great philanthropic institutions could have
more worthily commanded his best services; for the ultimate object of many of its warmest friends (whatever may
have been the original design of its founders) is the civilization and evangelization of Western and Central Africa,a result inseparably connected with the final triumphs of
the Redeemer's kingdom.
His malady still continued to distress him. Indeed, the
letter describing it must have been written during the preceding year. In addition to the sufferings already mentioned which had now become seemingly inveterate, it had
also produced dyspepsia in some of its worst forms. Twice
-was he thus apparently brought to the verge of dissolution.
He had from time to time tried the prescriptions of various
physicians, during its successive stages; but as the benefit,
if received, was temporary only, he began at length to distrust all such remedies, and to try those recommended by
more questionable authority. Some of these, as is not
unfrequently the case, were apparently salutary for the
season, and he was thus led to the use of them more frequently and occasionally in large quantities.  The general
V~~I-YI CL~ VVMIVLLLI)  ~~ LW




MEMOIR.                     lix
effect in all such cases is injurious, and in his own case it
was very injurious; yet not let others censure nor wonder,
until they have passed through a similar furnace.  Sufferings such as he has depicted, endured-with frequent mitigations, no doubt-for ten, twenty, and twenty-five years,
will at length prompt their subject to resort to any remedies, any measures, commended by credulous hope. The
mind is no less affected by such a disease than the body,
for the whole nervous system is made to enter from the
commencement into the closest sympathy.  Such was
signally and unhappily the state of Dr. Dwight. Hlis
mind, like his bodily frame, became constantly excited and
often chafed. He made scarcely a mental effort but under
the pressure of this iron weight; if he resorted to relaxation, his disease, like a haunting spectre, was still present;
if, like others when in sore trouble, he anticipated final
relief and cure, that hope, so often false, would soon yield
to despondency. It would have been strange indeed if his
demeanor toward others, nay, if his character in its outward aspect, had not been thus affected.  Difficulties
which but rouse a man in health to efforts that ensure success, soon intimidate the nervous invalid.  Opposition to
his own plans or opinions is often misconstrued; his extreme sensitiveness renders him  unconsciously irritable;
where he cannot convince nor persuade, his very earnestness may make him dogmatical, and a speedy retreat from
trouble or continued labor seems a duty where others would
patiently s" stand in their lot." Such has been the gradual
change in many others,-such had for many years been
gradually becoming the change in the- subject of this
Memoir; and in a still more marked degree was this
apparent after his removal to the city of New York, in the
fall of 1838.  He was accompanied by Mrs. Dwight, who




lx                      MEMOIR.
had ever been a most affectionate wife, sharing with him
every trial, and cheering him in- his darkest hours. As
their only child, who was born a few years after their marriage, had soon died, their mutual affection, which, as has
been previously observed, was peculiarly strong, had gradually acquired a corresponding singleness and devotedness.
But he was soon to be deprived of her sustaining presence,
as her health, which had been for some time feeble, gave
way entirely in the following summer; at the close of
which she died, at the house of her father in New Haven.
Her husband returned to New York, a solitary man, uncertain as to the future, disabled, in his own view by his
disease, from pursuing the ministry or any literary employment, and constrained-for the time at least-to suffer
each day to pass away as innocently and, in one sense, as
inactively as it might.
Weeks, months, years, slowly lapsed, and he continued
thus to live.  At the beginning of what thus proved the
last stage of his life, he firmly cherished the hope that he
should be speedily relieved from his disease, so far at least
as to permit his resumption of the pastoral office or an
entrance on some other course of active duty.  To become
cured, in whole or in part; to become daily comfortable,
instead of suffering ceaseless anguish;-this was his constant object.  For its attainment he not only continued to
consult and to reconsult physicians, and to try the efficacy
of successive remedies which skill or. empiricism recommended, but he also ceaselessly sought, as he had ever
done, the intervention of the Great Physician.  To the
urgency, the intenseness of the supplications, in seasons of
social devotion, others, besides the writer might here bear
witness.  To a still greater importunity in his hours of
secret communion, his Bible bears moving attestation.




MEMOIR.                      IXi
Others who cannot enter into the feelings of a Brother,
when seeing these mementos of a fainting spirit that still
clung to a covenant God, may here peruse passage after
passage, which the owner of the volume had specially
selected and marked out as fountains of consolation and
hope; and these all refer to waiting on God.  One of
these,-the close of the 27th Psalm, and it is from the book
of Psalms pre-eminently that this store-house of encouragement was drawn, is here cited as an example.  "' Wait on
the Lord; be of good courage, and he shall strengthen
thine heart; wait, I say, on the Lord."'  This is underscored, as if every word had been pondered and treasured
up, and the entire verse is also connected in a similar manner with the preceding one so truly descriptive of the
sufferer's own feelings:-' I had fainted, unless I had
believed to see the goodness of the Lord in the land of the
living."
While the early part of these his last years was thus
insensibly passing away, his mind continued active.  He
did not enter on any extended course of literary or
scientific research, desirable as it would have been for himself and others, for this demanded more health, more firmness of purpose than what he deemed himself now to
possess; but he satisfied his characteristic thirst for
knowledge by reading, and also at intervals by investigating some specific subject which interested him for the time.
In this he was very kindly aided by the partners of a
large bookselling house, Messrs. Bartlett and Welford,
who gave him free access for many years to the valuable
works with which their shelves were constantly filled.
Here he might be often found, either engaged in intelligent
conversation, or absorbed in reading some newly imported
work. He could thus keep pace with the publications of
F




lxii                  MBEMOIR.
the season, at home and abroad, while his mind was for
the time healthfully refreshed. Could he have investigated
several subjects successively with the acuteness displayed
in the " Hebrew Wife," which had been lately published,
although originally written when he was a lawyer, he might
have made important additions to the general stock of
knowledge, and perhaps effectually resisted his own increasing tendencies to disease and extreme depression. But while
unfitted, as he thought, for such efforts, his mind was kept
constantly active. Strangers or former acquaintances, when
in conversation, ever found him to be well informed on literary subjects, ready at any moment to sustain his own part
in a courteous discussion, and evincing, unless overborne
by debility, his characteristic ardor.
After his residence in New York had commenced, he
rarely, if ever, entered the pulpit.  From every such effort
his feeble health, as he was satisfied, precluded him. He
experienced, however, a very high gratification in listening
to the preaching of several of the ministers of that city.
Having no family, and feeling disinclined, as a minister
himself, to become connected with any particular church,
he was accustomed to attend, in an irregular alternation,
on the preaching of four or five ministers whom he peculiarly preferred. In describing them respectively, he
would commend each for the mental vigor which, as a
hearer, he found necessary to secure his own undiverted
attention: but he would more earnestly commend the deeptoned spirituality and the searching exhibition of truth,
which also drew him to each as a frequent auditor. Where
these were divorced, no pulpit oratory, no stores of learning nor doctrinal acuteness, could have ever made him a
hearer. When mentioning some impressive discourse to
whichl he had been thus listening, his change of voice and




MEMOIR.                     lxiii
countenance and manner would usually almost at once
reveal his own deep interest in the subject; and he would
thus unconsciously assure the friend whom he was addressing, that he prized none the less than when at Park Street
Church, the fundamental doctrines of the gospel.
I have said, that years thus passed away. He not
unfrequently visited New Haven while his mother, whom
till her last hours he treated with rare filial reverence and
affection, continued to live.  It is believed that he also
visited one or more of the springs famed for benefiting
cases resembling  his own; and that he may have passed
portions of several summers in quiet villages, as a temporary retreat from the heated city. Iie was also accustomed for a number of years, as the warm season drew
nigh, to form indefinite plans of travelling to some distant,
secluded spot, and of there passing the summer monthssolely occupied in applying remedies for the cure of his
disease.  Such projects, though scarce ever carried into
effect, gave occupation and excitement for the time to his
thoughts, and were thus salutary. There were also intervals when he appeared to be sensibly mending, and when
the long absent friend would have pronounced him at the
first interview to be as cheerful, if not also as healthy, as
when he was residing in Boston. Had his income, which
for one living in New York was very limited, permitted
him to travel again, and for several years, in Europe, in
company with a suitable friend, his health might possibly
have been still recruited. But confined as he had thus
become to the city, with the habitual persuasion that his
disease was incurable, his depression of spirits gradually
withdrew him from society, and his health became more and
more feeble. To a few friends he still clung, but he was
too much of a sufferer, too constantly sad, for any other in



lxiv                    MEMOIR.
tercourse.  Indeed, for many years before his decease, his
mind, when occupied with the subject of his malady, was
evidently unhealthily affected. On all other subjects, even
to the last, his intellect retained its undiminished vigor,
and his feelings were in accordance. But when conversing
about his feeble health, a morbid excitability, in which his
opinions were evidently swayed by his habitual and often
intense despondency, betrayed itself.  In this respect his
state of mind strongly resembled that of the poet, Cowper,
with this diversity, —that the mind of the latter was the
primary seat of disease, while that of the former suffered
but in sympathy with the body.  Few of those who knew
him best, could know what constant and exhausting
demands were for almost forty years made on that sympathy; how the poisonous disease of the skin, the fevered
irritation of the nerves, with accompanying dyspepsia in
some of its worst forms, and all acting on a brain long
since made unnaturally sensitive and constantly denied for
hours at night the soothing restorative of sleep, may chafe
even the pious spirit, and render life a pilgrimage of gloom.
One of his Christian friends, in speaking of his condition,
remarked, that' nothing but the influence of religion had
preserved Dr. Dwight from insanity:" and another deliberately said, that'" nothing besides could have restrained
him from suicide."
But he was graciously preserved from both.  Ile, who
had most mysteriously but wisely appointed it for him so
long to suffer, enabled him also to endure unto the end.
In the spring of 1850, the writer saw his brother for the
last time in the city of New York. lie had then but
partially rallied from a severe attack, closely connected
with his disease, which had confined him for a month; and
his unusual debility was apparent to the little circle of fam



MEMOIR,                     lxv
ily friends with whom, during their brief sojourn in the city,
he passed much of the time. But when warmed in conversation, he forgot for the season his sufferings, and
conversed with an enthusiasm  and eloquence on various
subjects characteristic of his happiest days. The effect on
two strangers who happened to be present a part of the
time, was, to rivet them to their seats; where, as if spell
bound, they listened in mute admiration until the lateness
of the hour caused him to withdraw.
In the early part of the following October he visited
Philadelphia, with the purpose of trying the efficacy of
hydropathy. His physician, to whom he had been specially
recommended, perceiving his great debility, had but
moderately subjected him  to the usual regimen, when,
after a few weeks, which were pleasantly spent, he was
suddenly seized with chills and fever, and the attack soon
extended to the brain. One of the most eminent physicians
of the city was called in consultation, who pronounced the
symptoms to be those of a softening of the brain,-a
disease, to which intellectual men are more subject than
others, and which has been lately increasing in this country.  The writer was speedily summoned by telegraph
from Portland to Philadelphia, and on entering the chamber was familiarly recognized by his brother. The memory
of the latter, however, once so tenacious, was almost gone.
During the first half of the week that followed, he would
often commence replying to questions addressed to him,
and after uttering a few words with difficulty, would then
stop, and place his hand on his head as if overborne with
pain; then, after a pause, he would either complete the
sentence, or, what was perhaps more frequently the case,
sink into entire unconsciousness.  Twice, and twice only,
through the week, did he address the writer, except when




lxvi                     MEMOIR.
thus replying; in the last of which instances, he uttered a
brief law maxim in Latin, for the purpose of qualifying his
refusal to a request just made.  Once, when the danger of
his case was intimated, he immediately closed his eyes and
appeared to be engaged in prayer; but after the briefest
reply to a second and then a third suggestion, he. sunk at
once into insensibility.  At no one moment was he fully
aware of his state, nor after the first day or two was he
capable of comprehending it.  The last day and night
were passed in seeming unconsciousness of every object
around him, and in this state he departed early in the
morning of Saturday, November 80, 1850:-welcomed, it
is humbly trusted, among the first to greet him, by those
whom  he had ever most filially revered and those most
fondly loved, to that world where' there shall be no more
death, neither sorrow nor crying, neither shall there be any
more pain;" and where " God shall wipe away all tears
from the eyes."
His remains were conveyed, early on the ensuing week,
to New HIaven, where, after appropriate funeral solemnities,
they were deposited by those of his wife, within the beautiful cemetery of that city, which also contains the ashes of
his parents, and of two of his brothers.  HI-s grave is
designated by a marble monument, which bears the following inscription:
SERENO EDWARDS DWIGHT, D. D.,
Second Pastor of Park Street Church, Boston; and third President
of Hamilton College, in New York.
A Scholar, a faithful Pastor, a truly able and eloquent Preacher;
and destined, having " turned many to righteousness,"
to " shine as the slars forever and ever."
Born May 18, 1786.
Died November 30, 1850.
<E. 64.




MEMOIR.                    lxvii
As an appropriate close of this Memoir, the following
letter, addressed to the writer, and signed by the Pastor,
Rev. Mr. Stone, and Rev. Louis Dwight, as a Committee
of the Church, is here introduced.
" Boston, Dec. 6th, 1850.
Dear Sir: —
The Park Street Church desires to express its sympathy
with you, and other relatives and friends, on occasion of
the death of your brother, Rev. Sereno E. Dwight, and to
assure you that his character as former pastor of this
church is held in affectionate remembrance.  Many surviving members of the Church testify their strong appreciation of his services.  They well remember his faithful
preaching; his affectionate and heavenly conversation; his
most acceptable and useful pastoral visits; his earnest
personal private appeals to their hearts and consciences;
and his successful labors as a minister of Christ. Especially
do they remember, and often speak of, his comprehensive
views, his animating addresses, and his earnest prayers at
the Monthly Concert for the conversion of the world; and
his most effective services in revivals of Religion.
THis person and manners, his intercourse in general
society, and his extensive knowledge made him very
pleasant to many people in Boston, as well as to the
religious society with which he was more immediately connected.
Many members of this church, now living, have thought
much of him, during the long years of his absence and
sickness, and gladly, at any time, would, if they could,
have alleviated his sufferings.
We have often heard with deep sympathy, how much he
suffered from his protracted and unmitigated disease, which
laid him aside from pastoral duty and public usefulness.




1xviii                MEMOIR.
There is a singular coincidence of circumstances illustrating the kind of affectionate remembrance in which he
was held. At a Union Meeting for Prayer in the Old
South vestry in Boston, on Friday morning, Nov. 29th,
1850, it only having been heard by report that Mr. Dwight
was sick in Philadelphia, his name was mentioned, as an
esteemed Christian minister, and once a Pastor of Park
Street Church; and prayers were solicited in his behalf.
In a few hours after, on Saturday morning, Nov. 30th, we
trust his departed spirit was glorified with his father and
with Christ, where there is no more pain.
Most affectionately your friends in the fellowship of the
gospel."
Yes.  Were it not for the hope of a speedy recognition
and union in that world of purity and joy between those
whom  death has severed, how often would the hearts of
survivors die within them!  That hope now lessens the
sorrow of                              A BROTHER.
Portland, July, 1851.




DISCOURSES 








DISCOURSES ON TIlE DEATH OF CHRIST.
LUKE  XXIII. 33.
AND WHEN THEY WERE GCOME TO THE PLACE WTIICH IS
CALLED CALVARY, THERE THEY CRUCIFIED HIM.
THE Death of Jesus Christ, whether we regard him as
a mere nman, as a superangyeie being, or as " Good mnanifest in the flesh," was a wonderful event in the government
of a righteous God. As such it is everywhere represented
in the Scriptures; and as such it has been uniformly regarded by the church, in every country and in every age.
That the Scriptures actually point out the Great End for
which it took place, is admitted by all; yet the various
theories devised to account for it differ as widely from each
other, as they could have done, if their several authors,
instead of looking to the Scriptures for an explanation of
this most singular event, had resorted merely to conjecture.
These theories, though numerous, may all be reduced to
two classes:-those which deny,-and those which adnit,-that the Death of Christ was an ATONEMENT FOR
THE SINS OF THE WORLD. They who regard it as an
Atonement, insist that, without it, mankind could not have
been pardoned nor saved; while those who deny that it
was an Atonement, I believe without an exception, deny
also those, which have been regarded by the great body of
the church in every age, as the Fundamental Doctrines of




4                 DISCOURSES ON THE
Christianity.*  Probably, therefore, it will be admitted on
both sides, that no question can be more important or more
deeply interesting to man, than the question, WHY DID
JESUS, THE MESSIAH, DIE UPON THE CROSS?
As this is a point of mere revelation, it can be deter.
mined only by a reference to the Scriptures; and he, who
examines them attentively for this purpose, will perceive
that the sacred writers have adopted two different modes
of presenting the subject to the mind. They have recorded
a series of facts relative to the Death of Christ, which no
believer in the scriptures can controvert. They have also,
in various forms of phraseology, directly  declared the
great end for which he died. It will be admitted that
these facts, and these forms of phraseology rightly interpreted, are perfectly consistent with each other; and that
no explanation of this event, which is not consistent with
both, can be true.  In attempting to answer this question,
it is my design therefore, to detail the facts connected with
it at some length; to recite also the forms of expression
referred to, with the view of determining their true scriptural import; and then to inquire how far the various Theories devised to account for the Death of Christ are consistent with these facts, and with the plain declarations of
the Scriptures. It was the rule of Newton, in his philosophical researches, to reject every explanation of an event
inconsistent with the phenomena that attended it; and, to
adopt the same rule on the present occasion, will probably
be regarded by every mind as at once fair and safe.
THE FACTS relative to the Death of Christ, which I propose to recite, are the following:
1. It was not the result of Accident.:S Particularly, the Depravity of Man, the Deity of Christ, the Reality and
Necessity of Regeneration, the Personality and Agency of the Holy Spirit,
Justification by faith, and Eternal punishment.




DEATH OF CHRIST.                   5
It is obviously true that no event, so far as relates to
God, is the result of accident; for "known unto God are
all his works from the beginning of the world." And with
regard to the death of Christ, Peter said to the Jews, on
the day of Pentecost, " Him, being delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God, ye have taken,
and with wicked hands have crucified and slain."' And
the whole company of apostles and disciples say, in their
united prayer, " Of a truth against thy holy child Jesus,
both Herod and Pontius Pilate, with the Gentiles and people of Israel, were gathered together, to do whatsoever thy
hand and thy counsel determined before to be done."t
The sufferings and death of Christ were not therefore the
result simply of popular tumult, or of the machinations of
HIerod and the Sanhedrimr, but are to be referred, originally, to the determinate counsel of God.
2. It was the subject of Prophecy.
This fact is often asserted in the New Testament. Peter
declared to the Jews, that "' God before had showed by the
mouth of all his prophets that the Christ should suffer;"t
and in his first epistle, he says that " the prophets inquired
and searched diligently, what, or what manner of time the
Spirit of Christ, which was in them did signify, when he
testified beforehand the sufferings of Christ, and the glory
which should follow."~ Luke also tells us that our Lord,
in one of his last interviews with his disciples, showed them
from 5Moses, the Prophets and the Psalms, that the Christ
must suffer and rise from the dead. ll  And Peter on the
day of Pentecost declares to the Jews, that the passage in
the 16th Psalm,' Thou wilt not leave my soul in Hades,
W Acts, ii. 23.                  t Acts. iv. 27. 28.; Acts, iii. 18.                 ~ 1 Peter, i. 10-12.
II Luke, xxiv. 44-46.
1*




6                DISCOURSES ON THE
neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One to see corruption,"'
refers-not to DaIvid, but —certainly to Christ.
This fact is also evident from the prophecies themselves.
Every one who admits with John that the serpent, who
tempted and deceived our first parents, and who said unto
them,'~ Ye shall not surely die," was not simply and merely a serpent or snake, but 1" that old serpent, the Devil and
Satan," who was "' a liar from  the beginning," who " deceives the nations;" and that the seed of the Woman was
the seed of the Virgin; will of course admit that the prophecy communicated to " the Tempter" in Paradise,The Seed of the Woman " shall bruise thy head; and thou
shalt bruise his heel," refers directly to the death of Christ.
In addition to this, and the passage just cited from the 16th
Psalm, I shall mention but two of the predictions of this
event in the Old Testament. The first of these, in the 53d
chapter of Isaiah, is so minute and exact an account of
the death and burial of Christ, that it seems far more like
a history, than a prophecy.  It exhibits him as " the Mlan
of Sorrows," as "wounded for our transgressions," as
"led like a lamb to the slaughlter," as s" numbered with
the transgressors," and as having'" his tomb with the rich
man;" and it is accordingly often quoted as referring to this
event by the apostles. I will refer you to a single instance
to prove this point.  The Ethiopian treasurer was reading
this chapter of Isaiah when Philip joined him in his chariot.
The Treasurer then asked Philip, "Of whom speaketh the
prophet this-of himself, or of some other man? Then
Philip opened his mouth, and began at the same scripture,
and preached unto him Jesus."t
The other prediction from Daniel concludes in the following manner: "And after threescore and two weeks
t Acts ii. 29 —31.             f Acts viii. 32 —35.




DEATH OF CHRIST.                     7
from the going forth of the commandment to restore and
rebuild Jerusalem  shall Messiah be cut off, but not for
himself.*
3. The Death of Christ was absolutely necessary.
In his conversation with Nicodemus, our Lord tells him,
"' As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even
so nmust (ovcg 4vw86vam Si -even so is it necessary that)
the Son of man be lifted up, that whosoever believeth on
him might not perish, but might have everlasting life."t
How momentous the necessity here mentioned, when the
everlasting life or perdition of all who believe, i. e. all who
are actually saved, turns on the fact of his Death!  In his
prayer to the Father, he says,-" I know that thou hearest
me always;"-yet amid the sorrows of Gethsemane, we
are told that he went a little further from his disciples, and
prayed, cc 0 my Father! —if it be possible, —let this cup
pass from me!"  The cup was his approaching death upon
the Cross.  Of course, if the end of his Death was to be
answered, it was not possible, that the cup should pass from
him, or that he should not suffer death. After his resurrection he said to the two disciples, on the way to Emmaus,
" Ought not the Christ,"-(oX;c' TcCvO'SEI  arctv.rov
Xglsrov, Was it not necessary for the Christ) —" to suffer
these things?"
This necessity did not arise either from the fact that the
event had been predicted; or from the arbitrary appoint-:ment of God.  God does not first lay himself under unwise or unnecessary obligations, by predicting events not
proper in themselves; and then justify himself, on the
ground that he has pledged his word to bring them to pass.
— " He sees the end from the beginning."-Neither is he
more arbitrary in his appointments, than in his clispensaa Daniel, ix. 25, 26.             f John, iii. 14, 15.




8                 DISCOURSES ON THE
tions.  The death of Christ was predicted, only because'it
was appointed; and it was appointed in the beginning, not
arbitrarily or without reason, but under as clear a view of
the reasons which rendered it necessary, as if it had not
been resolved on until the morningo of the crucifixion.
The necessity existed therefore independently both of the
appointment, and of the prediction; and was in the order
of nature the cause of both. It was appointed, merely
because it was necessary to accomplish the End for which
it took place; and that this necessity was absolute, we
learn from the occurrences in the garden of Gethsemane.
There was therefore from eternity an invincible necessity
that the Son of God should die, if the end actually brought
to pass by his death was to be accomplished.
4. It has excited a very deep interest in the heavenly
world.
Peter, after declaring that the Holy Spirit, who was in
the prophets, predicted " the sufferings of Christ, and the
glory which should follow," subjoins, "1 which things the
angels desire to look into;" or more literally, " into which
things, the angels bending over earnestly, desire to
look."' These sufferings therefore, and the glory that
should follow, had been early revealed in heaven, and had
occupied the deeply interested attention of its exalted inhabitants.-On the Mount of Transfiguration, when the
face of Christ did shine as the sun, and his raiment was
white as the light; when, a voice came forth from the cloud
of glory,-" This is my beloved Son, hear ye him;" —and
when Moses and Elijah appeared in glory, conversing with
him; the subject of their conversation was " his decease,
which he should accomplish at Jerusalem."-An angel
came from heaven to comfort him in the garden, when in
* I Peter, i. 10-12.




DEATH OF CHRIST.                9
the view of his approaching sufferings, his soul was " exceeding sorrowful even unto death."
This interest of the heavenly world in the Death of
Christ has not diminished since it took place. An angel
descended and rolled away the stone from the mouth of
his sepulchre. Two angels were in the sepulchre, to
announce to his disciples his Resurrection. His death has
changed the worship of heaven, and put a new song into
the mouths both of saints and angels. "And I beheld,"
says John, " in the midst of the throne, a LAMB, as it had
been slain. And they sang a new song, saying, " Thou art
worthy; for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God
by thy blood, out of every kindred and tongue, and people and nation. And I beheld and I heard the voice of
many angels round about the throne, and the four living
ones, and the four and twenty elders; and the number of
them was ten thousand times ten thousand and thousands
of thousands; saying with a loud voice,' Worthy is the
Lamb that was slain to receive power, and riches, and
wisdom, and might, and honor, and glory and blessing."' "
To understand fully the importance thus given to the
Death of Christ, we must recollect that the songs of heaven
had been previously occupied in praising God for the display of his perfections in Creation and Providence; and
that, on the occurrence of this event, the whole population
of the upper world learned A NEW SONG-an ascription of
blessing and praise to the Lamb that was slain. No other
event in the universe has produced such a change in the
praises of heaven. If then the heavenly hosts were not
mistaken in their views of this event; no other event in
the universe is comparable to it in importance.
W Rev. v. 6-12.




10               DISCOURSES ON TEE
5. A similar degree of importance is attached to this
event by the writers of the sacred volume.
It is spoken of as the great manifestation of the love of
God:-" God commandeth his love toward us, in that,
while we were yet sinners, Christ died for us." " Herein
is love; not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and
sent his son to be the propitiation for our sins." It is
mentioned as the highest possible evidence of the willingness of God to bless mankind. 6' He that spared not his
own Son, but delivered him up for us all, how shall he not
with him also freely give us all things." It is mentioned
as the sum and substance of the Gospel, which the Aposties preached: " We preach Christ crucified, unto the
Jews a stumbling-block, and unto the Greeks foolishness,
but unto them which are saved the power of God."  " I
am determined to know  nothing among you, but Jesus
Christ and him crucified.'  It is described as the only
thing in which an Apostle could glory: " God forbid that
I should; glory, save in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ;
by which the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the
world."
Thus, there is a perfect harmony in the interest felt in
this event' and in the views entertained of its importance,
by inspired men on earth, and by the holy inhabitants of
heaven.
6. Various Titles were given to Christ with reference to
his Death, which are given to no other person. By John
the Baptist, he was publicly announced to the Jewish
nation, on the banks of the Jordan, in the following manner, " Behold the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin
of the world."  He is called by Peter "a Lamb without
blemish and without spot;" and by John, " the Lamb,"
"C the Lamb that was slain," and " the Lamb slain from the




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 11
foundation of the world."  He is called the Redeemer;
and the reason is given by the saints in heaven," Thou
art worthy, for thou wast slain and hast redeemed us to
God by thy blood;" as well as by Paul-" We have redemption through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins."
lHe is called "( the Saviour of the world;" and the reason
assigned is because " he shall save his people from their
sins;" and of this language two explanations are given,
both connected with his death.  The first is, that he saves
us from the wrath of God or the punishment of sin:;4 Go(
commendeth his love toward us in that while we were yet
sinners, Christ died for us; much more then, being now
justified by his blood, we shall be saved from wrath through
him."  The second is, that he saves us from the power of
sin: " Who gave himself for us, that he might purify unto
himself a peculiar people zealous of good works." lIe is
called the Deliverer; because, in {he language of Paul,
4" he delivered us from the wrath to come."  He is also
called a Ransom; because he " came to give his life a
ransom for many."  These titles are given to no other individual.
T. Great multitudes who lived and died before his death,
were possessed of real piety, and wvent to heaven; and of
these, numbers were men of pre-eminent piety. This was
true of Abel, Enoch, and many others before the Deluge,
of Noah, and Melchizedeek, of Abraham, Isaac and Job,
of Jacob, Joseph, and still greater numbers in Patriarchal
times; of Moses and Joshua, of Samuel, Elijah, and the
prophets, and far greater multitudes under the Levitical
economy. As they all died before the death of Christ,
they knew nothing of that event, unless it was typified in
sacrifices, or unless they were acquainted with and fully
understood the prophecies in which it is predicted." That




12             ]DISCOtRSES  ON THE
they had some indistinct apprehensions of the subject, some
assurance of "' the bringing in of a better hope" than sacrifices presented, we, who believe that sacrifices were
merely types of the Great Sacrifice, most fully admit.
That their views were exceedingly imperfect, we know
from two facts.' No prophecy of Scripture is of its own
interpretation,-(its own interpreter;) or is adequately
understood until it is fulfilled.  The Disciples also, with all
the helps derived from sacrifices, from prophecy, from the
repeated and most explicit annunciations of the event by
Christ himself, and from witnessing the Sacramental Supper, could say, after the event had taken place, " We
trusted that it should have been he, which should have
redeemed Igrael;"' and could render it necessary for
Christ to say to them,-" O0 fools, and slow of heart to
believe all that the prophets have spoken! Ought not the
Christ to have suffered these things, and to enter into his
glory?" By the great body of those that died before
hirm, we have reason therefore to suppose that his death
was, to say the least, very imperfectly understood8. Those who died and went to heaven before his comr.:ng, for some reason or other, felt a ceep personal interest
in his death.  Our Lord himself informs us that the patriarchs and prophets foresaw his coming, and rejoiced in
their anticipations of the event: " Your father Abraham
rejoiced to see my day, and he saw it and was glad."
i' For I tell you that many prophets and kings have
desired to see those things which ye see, and have not
seen them; and to hear those things which ye hear, and
have not heard them."  This interest, we are told by
Peter, was, excited by the Death of Christ: " Of which
salvation (that of the soul) the prophets have inquired
anod searched diligently, who prophesied of the grace that




DEA.TH OF CHRIST.                13
should come unto you; searching what, or what manner of
time the spirit of Christ which was in them  lid signify,
when he testified beforehand the sufferings of Christ, and
the glory that should follow." Those, who thus died in
faith before the coming of Christ constitute one common
family with those, who have possessed the same character
since his death: -" Of whom the whole family in heaven
and earth is named."   They are styled one " general
assembly and church of the first-born."  This union of
the righteous of all generations into one family is not
merely said to be accomplished by Christ, but by his
blood:'" In whom we have redemption, through his blood,
even the forgiveness of sins, according to the riches of his
grace;-having made known unto us the mystery of his
will, according to his good pleasure which he hath purposed in himself; that in the dispensation of the fulness of
time he might gather together in one all things in Christ,
both which are in heaven and which are on earth, even in
him."  When this one family arrive in heaven, whether
they lived before or after the appearance of Christ on
earth, they feel, for some reason or other, one common
obligation to Christ, and express their thanks in one common song; and that song is an acknowledgment of one
common benefit conferred on each, the benefit of redemption: "And they sung a new song, saying, Thou
art worthy-for thou wast slain, and  hast redeemed
us to God by thy blood, out of every kindred, and
tongue, and people and nation."  There is no diversity
of feeling here.  The acknowledgment made, by such
of the redeemed as died before the coming of Christ,
is not merely, like that of the angels, founded on the,
pleasure which they take in the happiness of others; it
is founded on a personal benefit conferred on themselves..
2




14               DISCOURSES ON THE
They do not merely say with the angels —" Worthy is the
Lamb that was slain;" but as a part of " the general assembly and church of the first-born," they unite in a still
deeper expression of gratitude,-" Thou hast redeemed
us to God by thy blood."
9. Christ knew that he was to suffer death.  Hle knew
kimself to be the Messiah; and he had read the numerous
prophecies, which announced his death as certain. At the
commencement of his ministry, he said to Nicodemus,"' As Moses lifted up the serpent in the wilderness, even so
must the Son of Man be lifted up."  On Mount Tabor,
Moses and Elijah conversed with himr on his own approaching
death.  On his last journey to the scene of his sufferings,
he said to his Disciples, —' Behold we are going up to
Jerusalem; and the Son of Man shall be betrayed unto
the chief priests and unto the scribes; and they shall condemn him to death, and shall deliver him to the Gentiles
to mock, and to scourge and to crucify him."  The evening before his crucifixion, he announced his death to his
disciples, pointed out Judas as his betrayer, instituted the
sacramental supper for its commemoration, and in the full
view of its approach endured the agony of the garden.
The certainty of his Death on the Cross was, therefore, a
subject of frequent and familiar contemplation, throughout every part of his public ministry.
10. Christ did not die, because le deserved death.
The conduct of his enemies throughout his life proved
that they were convinced of his innocence.  tie was often
in their power, and was the object of their violent hatred
and unceasing persecution.  Had they believed that he
deserved to die, they would have arrested him, and brought
him to an open and fair trial, that they might at once justify themselves and destroy his influence.; yet, though they




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 15
often sought to kill him, it was always either secretly, or
by violence, and never by proving him worthy of death
before a lawful tribunal.  The fact, too, that at last they
subjected him to a mock trial; and even on such a trial,
thought it necessary to suborn false witnesses against him;
proves conclusively that, in their view, a fair trial must
have resulted in his acquittal.
That he did not deserve death un~der the Levitical Law,
is easily evinced fromr his examination before the High
Priest.  Caiaphas commenced the examination in his own
house, during the night, by asking him of his disciples, and
of his doctrine.  Jesus answered, " I spake openly before
the world; I ever taught in the synagogue, and in the
temple, whither the Jews alw.ays resort, and in secret have
I said nothing.  Why askest thou me? ask them  which
heard me, what I have said unto them; behold, they know
what I said."  The first charge related to what he said respecting the temple' Destroy this temple, and in three
days I will build it argan;"-Referring to the temple of his
body.  One set of witnesses te.tiied, " This fellow said, I
am able to destroy the temple of God, and to build it in
three days."  Another set declared,'6 We heard him say,
I will destroy this temple that is made with hands, and
within three days I will build another made without
hands."  In their testimony they neither agreed with each
other, nor with the fact; and the charge was so frivolous,
that the High Priest himself paid it no attention.  When
it was day, the Sanhedrim, the chief priest and scribes,
led him into the council-room: and finding no other charge,
on which they could try him under their Law, the High
Priest at length adjured him  by the living God to tell
them, —" Whether he was Christ, the Son of the blessed
God?"  He then replied, " I am."'"Then the High




16               DrscO-JRSES ON TAlI
Priest rent his clothes, saying, He hath spoken blasphemy;
what farther need have we of witnesses?  Then the whole
Council exclaimed, Tie is deserving of death;" and they
all pronounced him 1" guilty of death."  The fact that he
called himself the Son of God, he admitted; the blasphemy, he denied, on the ground that he actually was the Son
of Godl, and had also proved it by the highest possible
evidence.  These were  the only two charges alleged
against him while he was in the power of the High Priest;
and on both his perfect innocence is apparent.
He did not deserve death at the hand of the government.
This is conclusively proved by the subsequent occurrences
of his trial. Pilate and Herod, who were his judges, were
both false and bloody men; and the Sanhedrim, who accused him, were the most sagacious and malignant of mankind.  Their first charge was, —' We found this fellow
perverting the nation," but of this, they could specify no
instance, and produce no evidence.  They then accused
him of forbidding to pay tribute to Cesar; when he actually directed the payment of it, as well as paid it himself.
They next charged him with treason, in usurping royal authority to himself, "l Ie said that he himself is Christ, a
king;" but this they could not substantiate.  The truth
was, that, when the people came by force to make him a
king, he refused the offer; and it was his own most explicit declaration,'"  My kingdom  is not of this world."
Pilate then went out to the Jews, and said, " I find no
fault at all in this man."  On hearing this, they were still
more fierce, and, as their last charge, accused him  of
stirring up a sedition in Galilee.  Pilate, finding him to
be a Galilean, sent him  to Herod, as Galilee was his province; but HIerod, after trying in vain to convict him of
the charge, and treating him with the utmost contempt,




DEATH OF CHRISTo                 17
sent him back to Pilate.  Then Pilate, calling together the
chief priests, and the rulers and the people, said unto
them, " Ye have brought this man unto me as one that
perverteth the people; and behold, I have examined him
before you, and I have found no fault in this man, touching those things whereof ye accuse him.  No; nor yet
Herod; for I sent you to him; and lo, nothing worthy of
death has been done by him; I will therefore chastise him,
and release him." And when they were clamorous for his
crucifixion, he called for water, and washing his hands
said to them," I am innocent of the blood of this righteous
person."*
He did not deserve death nor suffering at the hand of
God.  Suffering is inflicted for sin, and for sin only; and
is intended either to punish, or to reform, But Christ was
absolutely free from sin; and therefore neither deserved
punishment, nor needed reformation.  Of this we have the
most decisive evidence.  To establish it, we can appeal to
his enemies.  They were always watching his words and
conduct, and he boldly challenged them,-" Which of you
convinceth me of sin?"  Yet, when put to the proof on
his trial, they could substantiate no charge agairnst him.
Pilate and Herod likewise pronounced him innocent; and
Judas, returning the thirty pieces of silver, said to the
chief priest, —" I have sinned, in that I have betrayed the
innocent blood:"-,a fact which they also admitted in their
reply, —" What is that to us; see thou to that."  "' Here
then is the testimony of his accusers, of his judges, arid Qf
his betrayer.
We can appeal to his friends; and they wrote as they
were moved by the Holy Ghost. Paul declares to the
X See Doddridge's Expositor for a full and connected account of the
Trial of our Lord.
2*x




18               DISCOURSES ON THE
Hebrews, that he was " holy, harmless, undefiled and separate from sinners;" and that " he was in all points tempted
as we, and yet without sin:"-and to the Corinthians,
that " God made him to be sin for us, who knew no sin."
Peter informs us, that "1 he did no sin, neither was guile
found in his lips;"-and John that " in him was no sin."
The eleven also, after the best opportunity of observing
the most secret actions of his life, were led, from a thorough conviction of the perfect purity of his character, to
renounce all that they valued in the present world, and to
devote themselves to suffering and death. —We can also
appeal to God the Father. He twice declared concerning
him, with an audible voice, " This is my beloved Son, in
whom I am well pleased."  In raising him from the dead,
likewise, he gave the most public testimony of his perfect
approbation.
11. His Death, on his own part, was Voluntary.
His consent to die was solely owing to the consequences
of his death; for merely in itself considered, he was utterly unwilling to die. When the Jews sought to kill him,
as they often did before he had fully manifested to the
nation and to the world that he was the Messiah the Son
of God, he took effectual care, knowing their wicked
designs, to save his life; and repeatedly escaped from
their hands.  The reason assigned is, that his hour was
not yet come. In the garden, his agony and bloody sweat,
and his prayer thrice repeated with his face to the ground,
" O my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from
me!" furnish the highest conceivable evidence that, if it
had been possible, he wished to avoid his approaching sufferings. Yet we have seen that he perfectly knew when,
where, by whom, and in what manner, he was to suffer
death. That he also voluntarily consented to die, he him



DEATH OF CHRIST.                 19
self declares in the most explicit manner,-" I lay down
my life for the sheep. No one taketh it from me, but I
lay it down of myself. I have power to lay it down, and I
have power to take it again."  In Galilee, he told his disciples, that he was going up to Jerusalem to be crucified;
he might therefore have remained in Galilee, and not have
gone up to the Passover.  After his arrival, his opportunities to escape were abundant. He might have left Jerusalemn when Judas left the upper chamber; but instead of
that he said to him,-" What thou doest do quickly."  As
he was now fully revealed as the Messiah, though he knew
all the machinations of Judas and the priests, he chose not
to avoid them; because as it is said, " he knew that his hour
was now fully come."  In the garden, when the Roman
guard approached, and inquired for Jesus of Nazareth, he
said unto them,-" I am he;"-and " they drew backward, and fell to the ground." —0One word from his lips
prostrated them in the dust.  And when Peter, drawing
his sword, cut off the ear of the IIigh Priest's servant, he
said to him, —" Thinkest thou that I cannot now pray to
my Father, and he shall presently give me more than
twelve legions of angels?"  Certain it is, therefore, that
Jesus, instead of being surprised by his enemies, had his
whole life to deliberate whether he would be crucified or
not; and that there never was a moment, when he might
not, if he had pleased, have avoided that ignominious
death.
12. It occurred very early after tMe commencement of
his public ministry.
He entered on his ministry:after he was thirty years of
age. The previous part of his life was passed in such
absolute obscurity at Nazareth, a village- in the remote
parts of Galilee, that, notwithstanding the remarkable




20                DISCOURSES ON THE
scenes of his infancy-the annunciation to the shepherds,
the offerings of the magi, the prophecies of Simeon and
Anna, the murder of the infants, and the conversation
with the doctors in the temple-he lived there all this time
unknown and unsuspected as the Messiah: so absolutely
unknown, that John the Baptist his kinsman, who knew
himself to be the forerunner of the Messiah, and who
knew that the Messiah was actually come, assured the
Jews, at his baptism, that until he saw the Holy Ghost
descend in a bodily shape like a dove, and rest upon him,
he did not know what individual was the Messiah.'  Then,
for the first time, was it said to the Jews —" Behold the
Lamb of God, who taketh away the sin of the world!" So
unsuspected had his character as the Messiah been, that
his acquaintance in Nazareth, when they saw him after his
baptism stand up in the synagogue and read the Scriptures,
asked instinctively, " How knoweth this man letters, having never learned?"  His public ministry continued but
three years and a half, or at most but four years. His
death occurred at the most important and eventful period
of his life. IIe had all the activity and ardor of youth,
combined with the full vigor of manhood. He had become
extensively known, and had gained a high character as a
holy man, as an eminent prophet, and worker of miracles.
His fame and influence were continually extending, and
the number of his disciples regularly increasing. The
apostles were wholly unprepared for his death. When he
was apprehended, they all forsook him and fled; and, when
he was crucified, their faith in him as the Messiah entirely
failed.  When he died not a word of the New Testament
- The reason of this was, that John had lived previous to his entrance on
his ministry near Hebron, in the Soutth of Judea; while our Lord had lived
during the same period in the North, at Nazareth.




M, A3 t  OV CHRIST.              21
was written, and but a small part of the instructions necessary to compose it were given.  The Church too was not
yet organized, and no permanent order of ministers appointed. IIis followers were very few, feeble, and timid,
andl they were so fully convinced that he was to be a reigning temporal MAessiah, that, when they saw him  crucified,
they were utterly confounded and disheartened.
13. The Sacramental Supper was instituted as a jperpetual commnemoration of his Death.  " For as often as ye
eat this bread, and drink this cup, ye do show the Lord's
death until he come." Except his resurrection,* which
was a consequence, and in him  as the 1Messiah the Son of
God, obviously a necessary consequence, of his death; no
other occurrence of his life, —not even his birth, is thus
commemorated.  To the day, or the week, or the month,
in which he was born, there is not an allusion in the New
Testament; and even to the year, the allusion is so indistinct, as not only to have occasioned a long and yet unsettled
controversv, but to have led those who fixed the Christian
Era into a mistake as to the true year of the Nativity.
As this commemoration of his death is divinely appointed;
and as no other event of his life, not even his birth, is thus
commemorated; it is obvious that his death was the event
of prime importance in his life; that, which especially
occasioned his Incarnation, that peculiarly, which called
forth the song of the angels at Bethlehem.
14. His Death, both as it was appointed by God, and
as it actually took place, was violent and ignominious.
Peter, as we have already seen, declares that Herod and
Pontius Pilate, with the Gentiles and the people of Israel,
did only " what the hand and counsel of God had determined before to be done." The night before his crucifix+ In the Christian Sabbath.




22               DISCOURSES ON THE
ion, he was arrested as a criminal.  In the council-room of
the Sanhedrim the men who held him, mocked him, spit in
his face, buffeted him, smote him, blindfolded him, and
struck him in the face with the palms of their hands. In
the palace of Herod, he was mocked, insulted, and arrayed
in a gorgeous robe.  In the hall of Pilate he was scourged,
crowned with thorns, spit upon, smitten on the head, and
mocked with pretended homage. On Calvary, he was
nailed to the cross, and there, between two thieves who
suffered with him, and amid the taunts and insults of the
surrounding populace, he expired.
15. His Sufferings were inconceivably intense and cistressing.  The scene in the garden of Gethsemane was all
owing to the fact, that in the most lively and realizing manner he anticipated the events of the following day. In the
commencement of it we are told that, taking Peter, James
and John, " he began to be in great dejection, amazement
and anouish of mind."  Then he said to them, " My soul
is exceedingly sorrowful, even unto death; tarry ye here,
and watch with me."  Then he went forward, and kneeled
down, and fell on his face, and prayed that, if it were possible, the hour might pass from him. "CAnd he said, 0
my Father! all things are possible unto thee; if it be possible, let this cup pass from me; nevertheless, not what I
will, but what thou wilt!" And he returned, and found
them sleeping.  And again he went away the second time,
and prayed, saying, " 0 my Father! if this cup may not
pass away from me, except I drink it, thy will be done!"
And he returned, and found them asleep again. And he
went away the third time, and prayed, saying the same
words.  And  there  appeared an angel from  heaven,
strengtheningr him.  And being in an agony, he prayed
yet more earnestly; and his sweat was as it were great




DEATH OF CHRIST.                     23
drops of blood, falling to the ground." If this overwhelming agony arose from  the bare expectation of his sufferings
on the morrow, how beyond conception dreadful must have
been  the  actual endurance  of those sufferings;  when
crowned with thorns, and nailed to the cross, and subjected to the triumph of the powers of darkness, he cried
out with a loud voice, " My God, my God, why hast thou
forsaken me!"
16. IIe endured sufferings far more intense than those
of mere crucifixion-sufferings inflicted on him by Godsufferings not of the body, but of the mnind.  Isaiah announced that this would be the case.  He says'" We esteemed him smitten of God, and afflicted."  lie calls his
sufferings, " the travail of his soul;"  as if, in comparison
with his mental sufferings, those of his body did not deserve
to be mentioned. He declares that "' the Lord laid on him
the iniquities of us all."  He also predicted, that he should
" make his soul' an offering for sin;" as though the mere
sufferings of his body would have been wholly inefficacious.
Christ himself taught his followers not to be afraid of a
violent death;-" Fear not them which kill the body; and
after that have nothing more that they can do;"-and
doubtless he had sufficient firmness and consistency to do
that himself, which he enjoined as a duty on others.
The scene in the garden is wholly inexplicable, if it was
occasioned by the anticipation of mere bodily suffering.
Paul knew  that himself was to be crucified, and that his
time was drawing near.  Yet he said, in the full and sol* The idea that =i  signifies merely the body, or the animal life, and
never the soul, the spirit, is perfectly unfounded. See Gesenius' Lexicon
on this word; and among other passages, Deut. xxvi. 16.-Cant. i. 7. —1
Sam. i. 15.-and Ex. xxiii. 9; in each of which as well as in many other
places it denotes the spirit, the seat of' the thouzghts, volitions, and aactions.




24               DISCOURSES ON THE
emn anticipation of that event,-" I am ready to be offered,
and the time of my departure is at hand;"-and Peter,
when the hour of his crucifixion had arrived, requested
that he might be crucified with his head downward, as unworthy to suffer in the same attitude with his Master.
They felt no shrinking, no withdrawing from  the dreadful
conflict; and thousands of martyrs,-many of them  in
feeble health, many of them nearly exhausted by previous
tortures, many of them youths, and many of them females,
have approached the cross or the faggot, not only without
agony or extreme agitation, but with alacrity, and even
with triumph. Yet Christ, under the bare expectation of
his sufferings on the following day, being "' in great dejection, amazement and anguish of mind," thrice prostrated
himself to the ground, offering that most earnest prayer" 0 my Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from
me!" and then he prayed still more earnestly, and being
in an agony, "his sweat was as it were great drops of
blood falling to the ground." Why then this amazing difference?  If Christ was a Sutger-anyelic being; this conduct of his, on the supposition that he anticipated no sufferings but those of the bodcy, indicates a want of fortitude,
a weakness of nerve and of resolution, utterly inconsistent
with his exalted character, and lowering him down below
the level of Paul, and Peter, and multitudes of others,
even of youths and helpless females. If you doubt on
this point, read any history of Martyrdom, and you will
doubt no more. And if Peter or Paul had discovered
similar terror on the near approach of crucifixion, we
should have regarded it as decisive evidence of the want
of resolution. If Christ was a mere f3,anz; yet he was
a perfect man, and fully conscious of the entire approbation and love of God, and knew that he did not die for his




DEATH OF CHRISTO                  25
own sins.  What unspeakable supports are these under
sufferings and death!  Why then this amazement, this
agony, this sweat of blood flowing to the ground! Will it
be said-pardon me the question, it has been said-that
this was owing" to the peculiar tenderness of his feelings,"
and to " the delicate susceptibility of his nervous system?"
If by-this phraseology is intended, his lively sympathy for
the distresses of others, —that indeed is a virtue; but it
has nothing to do with the case.  If by it he intended, a
peculiar susceptibility of pain, and a peculiar dread of
enduring it; it is a mere imperfection, a weakness, for
which in every other case we have no respect-a want of
that fortitude and tranquility of mind, which great multitudes of women, and they, too, imperfect and sinful, have
exhibited in full view of the faggot and the cross.  Will it
be said, that his apprehensions of the approaching scene
were peculiarly clear and distinct?  They could not be
more so than the apprehensions of those, who are brought
to the very edge of that fire in which they are to be burne d,
or to the very foot of' that cross to which they are about to
be nailed.  Will it be said that his anticipations of suffering were peculiarly realizing?  Yet Paul had been in
deaths often, and thrice stoned, and once left for dead'; but
he said, " None of these things move me, neither count I
my life dear unto me.  I am ready to be offered, and the
time of my departure is at hand."  The anticipations
surely. were not more realizing than the reality; he was
not falsely alarmed, and in that wway deceived with regard
to the'magnitude of his sufferings-; yet the two malefactors,
under the actual endurance of these -sufferings, and with'
nothing from within or from- above to sustain their minds,
appear to have undergone them, and- for a longer period,
without a complaint.
3




26               DISCOURSES ON THE
The bodily sufferings of many of the martyrs appear to
have been far greater than the sufferings of the cross.
Many of them were roasted by a slow fire; many were
broken on the wheel, and left to expire under long protracted agonies; while others had their flesh torn off by
red-hot pincers. Any one compelled to make his choice,
would prefer the death of the cross to either of these, or
to many other modes of destroying life under long-continued tortures. Many also endured the cross itself. Multitudes of those martyrs did not merely endure their sufferings without a groan; they sang Hosannas to a crucified
Redeemer, while in the very agonies of death.
The scene witnessed on Calvary establishes the same
point.  Christ certainly knew what his chief sufferings
were; yet he does not allude to his bodily sufferings, when
his agony on the cross became overwhelming. Hle makes
no mention of the wounds in his hands or his feet, or of
the racking of his frame. His only cry was,  il"My God,
my God, why hast thou forsaken me!"-and this most
bitter cry announced that, when Jehovah withdrew his
face, his soul was in a far deeper darkness than that in
which the veiling of the sun involved the outward world.
On no supposition therefore, which does not bring on
Christ the charge of a weakness and irresolution passing
that of multitudes of women, can we explain the phenomena of Gethsemane and Calvary, except on the single supposition that Isaiah was in the right, when he said that he
was "smitten of God," that " it pleased Jehovah to bruise
him," that the Lord laid on him "the iniquity of us all,"
that he suffered " the travail of his soul," and made his
soul an offering for sin;" and that he himself was right in
supposing that his great sufferings, those in comparison
with which the sufferings of his body were forgotten, arose
from the fact that he was forsaken of God.




DEATH OF CIHRIST.               27
17. Very remarkable events preceded, attended, and
followed, his Death.
What a most surprising meeting was that on Mount
Tabor. There went up to the holy mount, Jesus the Mediator, and the three chief apostles; Peter, James and
John; and there came down from heaven to meet them,
not merely Elijah the chief of the prophets, and Moses the
lawgiver of Israel, but God the Father, revealing himself
in the voice, and in the cloud of glory which overshadowed
the mount; and the subject of their conversation was his
approaching DEATH.
Scarcely less'remarkable was the scene witnessed at his
Crucifixion. When he bowed his head and gave up the
ghost, the sun was darkened; and the veil of the temple
was rent in twain from the top to the bottom; the earth
did quake, and the rocks rent; the graves were opened,
and many bodies of the saints which slept arose and
appeared unto many. At his resurrection, also, "' behold
there was a great earthquake; for the angel of the Lord
descended from heaven, and came, and rolled back the
stone from the door of his sepulchre, and sat upon it. His
countenance was like lightning, and his raiment white as
snow; and for fear of him, the keepers did shake and
became as dead men."
What other event, let me ask, ever summoned such a
conclave of Earth and Heaven; or covered the noonday
sun with an untimely veil; or waked up from their long
sleep the lifeless tenants of the grave?
18. The sufferings and death of CHRIST, considered
merely in themselves, and unconnected with their consequences, were a very great evil.
The death of any living man, considered in itself, and
apart from the consequences which may attend it, is mere




28               DISCOURSES ON THE
ly, so much suffering for nothing.  But the sufferings of
Christ were beyond conception intense and dreadful, and
considered in themselves were an incalculable evil. Of his
own opinion on this point, the scene in Gethsemane is a
most emphatical expression.
The character of Christ enhances this consideration to
an inconceivable degree.  He arose on this world as the
Sun of righteousness, to diffuse a heavenly light and
warmth and life over the realms of darkness and of death.
" I," said he, " am the Light of the world; he that followeth me shall not walk in darkness, but shall have the
light of life."  He was the great Prophet of mankind;
teaching what they needed to know concerning God, their
present character, and. their own everlasting happiness and
virtue.  His example was a perfect exhibition of piety to
God, and of benevolence to man.:One stroke of the pencil of Peter has depicted his whole life-" Jesus of Nazareth, the man who went about doing good."  His miraculous power was exerted continually in healing the sick; in
restoring the maimed; in causing the lame to.walk, the
blind'to. see, the deaf to hear, and the dumb to sing; in
giving reason to the lunatic, in casting out demons, and in
bringing back the dead to life.  IIe was the great friend
and benefactor of the human race.  Unless his death accomplished some end of - inconceivable importance, how
undesirable was it that he should die at all-?  Ho-w vast
an amount of good would have flowed from his example,
from his instructions, from his miracles, from  his prayers,
had his life been protracted only to seventy years; how
incalculable this amount of good had it been prolonged to
the end of the world! Were he now on earth, and after
the lapse of eighteen centuries, only more vigorous in
health, and wisdom and beneficence; with what eagerness




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 29
should we repair to the country where he resided, to the
place in which he dwelt, to the house which he inhabited,
that we -might even once c "behold the Man."  How enviable would be the privilege to sit at Jesus' feet, to listen to
his counsels, to unite in his prayers and his praises, to follow his example, to share in his beneficence, and to receive
his blessing! How astonishing the fact, unless his death
accomplished an amount of good beyond all conception
great, that he should have been cut off from the land of
the living, in three years and a half from the time that he
was first made known to mankind!
19. The Death of Christ, in itself considered, was only
calculated to prevent the progress of his religion.  It disappointed the hopes of his friends, and left them in almost
absolute despair.  It also sated the malice of his enemies.
The ignominy of his death as a public malefactor was a constant theme of reproach. Paul informs us that the Cross
was everywhere an offence, and that the preaching of the
Cross was to them who perish foolishness. He declares
that it was one principal hindrance to the progress of
Christianity.  "b We preach Christ crucified, to the Jews a
stumbling-block, and to the Greeks foolishness."  The
Jews in their writings, particularly in the " Toldoth Jesu,"
or, The Generations of Jesus, familiarly ridicule Christianity as " The Religion of him who was hanged;" and this
is the language in which it has been described to their
children in every age. I need not add that the same fact
has often been urged by infidels as the opprobrium of
Christianity; and if the reasons, which we can assign for
his Death, do not adequately show Why Jesus the Messiah should die upon the Cross; the objection is one that
cannot be answered.
3*




30                 DISCOURSES ON THE
-20. After his Resurrection, Christ was,seen but rarely
by his.Disciples, -and was actually seen by no one else.
His first appearance after his resurrection, was to Mary
Magdalen alone; the second, to her and the other Mary:;
the third, to Peter alone; the fourth, to the two disciples,
Cleopas and his companion, on:the way to Emmaus; and
the fifth, to the eleven, as they sat at.meat.  All these
occurred on the day of his Resurrection.  The sixth was
to the eleven, at Jerusalem; the seventh, to the eleven, at
the Sea of Tiberias; the eighth, to the disciples on a
mountain in Galilee, which was beyond a doubt the appear-:ance mentioned by Paul to more than five hundred at
once e; the ninth, to James alone; and the tenth, to the
eleven, and probably others of the disciples, on -Mount
Olivet at the time of his Ascension.t
HAVING  thus stated the principal Facts relative to the
Death of Christ, which are recorded in the Scriptures; I
shall now  proceed, in the second place, to examine the
Forms of phraseology, in which the Great End accomplished
by his death is there directly explained.  These are various, and well deserve our most particular attention.
1. It is said that he died for mankind.
To die for another, is phraseology susceptible, in itself,
(of different meanings.  This is owing to the fact that the
preposition, for, sometimes denotes merely, because of,' If this was not so,, then the appearance on the mountain in Galilee was
only to the eleven; and that to more than five hundred was the ni.tznth.; but
where it took place we do not in that case know.. There is no reason to
doubt, how-ever, that they were one and the same.appearance.
j See Archbishop Newcome's Harmony of the Gospels, in the Notes to
Sections 147-156 inclusive.




DE ATH OF C HRIST.                3
and sometimes, for Ithe sake of, i. e. for the benefit of.
To die for, is once used in th-e Scriptures in the former
sense.  When Abimelech:said to Isaac,'How saidst thou,
she (Rebekah) is my sister?"  Isaac replied, "' Because
I said, Lest I die for her; iwhich is precisely equivalent
to, Lest they kill me in order to obtain her.  Here, if
Abimelech had put Isaac to death, in order to obtain Rebekah, the latter would have died —not for her sake, i. e.
not to relieve her from any evil, or to do her any positive
"good; and of course in no sense for:her benefit:; but —for
the sake of Abimelech himself, for the gratification of his
passion.  The exact version of the passage would have
been -therefore, Lest I die —-not for her, but —because of
her.
But wherever to die for another, denotes to die for his
sake; i. e. where the end to be accomplished by the death
terminates in the individual for whom it takes place; as is
the fact in every other case where this language is used in
the Scriptures, there is not a solitary instance in which it
denotes to die as an example to kim, or to furnish him
vwith evidence, -or to promote: his moral improvement.
When David savs, " Would to God I had died for thee, 0
Absalom, my son,.my son!" —he plainly intends-" that
I had died in thy stead."  So when it is said-" The
fathers:shall not die for the children, but every man sha 1
die for his own sin.s;:'t-it clearly denotes either dying
instead:of the child-ren,; or, as a manifestation -of anger
for their sins.  So- when John tells us, that Caiaphas said,
" It is expedient that one man die for the people, and that
the whole nation perish not; and this spake he, not of
himself; but, being high-priest that year, he prophesied
2 Sam. xiii 33.
t Deut. xxiv. 16; and 2 Kings xiv. 6; and 2 Chron. xyv. 4.




-32                DISCOURSES ON THE
that Jesus should die for that nation, and not for that
nation only, but that also he should gather together in one
the children of God that were scattered abroad;" —he not
only informs us that the phrase, to die for the nation,
means, instead of the nation, i. e. in order to prevent them
from perishing; but that for Jesus to die for the nation,
is the same thing as for Jesus to die instead of the nation.
And when the Apostle declares, " Scarcely for a righteous
man, will one die; yet peradventure for a good man, some
one would even dare to die;"t by for, he obviously means,
in both cases, instead of.
We then ask, Do the Scriptures declare, that Christ
died for men?-The angel Gabriel announced to Daniel,' In threescore and two weeks, the Messiah shall be cut
off, but not for himself;": and every passage of Scripture,
which explains his death, confirms this declaration. Christ
told his disciples, c" I lay down my life for the sheep;"~
and subsequently, " This is my body, which is broken for
you;"Il  "This is my blood, which is shed for many."~
Paul informs the christians at Rome, that " God spared not
his own Son, but delivered him up for us all."** He asks
those at Corinth, "Was Paul crucified for you?"t-' intimating that Christ was; warns them  to do nothing by
which a weak brother should perish, "for whom  Christ
died;"tt -and tells them that-~" one died for all."~~ John
also declares, " He laid down his life for us."II I1
These passages, it is universally admitted, teach us that
Christ died-not simply because of men, as Isaac feared
$ John xi. 50, 51.                  I Rom v. 7.: Daniel ix. 26.                    ~ John x. 15.
11 Luke xxii. 19. and 1 Cor. xi. 24.
IF Mark xiv. 24. and Luke xxii. 20.  He Rom. viii. 32.
tt 1 Cor. i 13.                   f$ 1 Cor. viii. 11.
i~ 2 Cor. v. 14.                   1[11 1 John iii. 16.




DEATHI OF CHRIST.                  83
that he might die because of Rebekah; but-for the sake
of men, for their benefit.  While, therefore; it is conceded
that the phrase, to die for another, might have had a more
loose and indefinite meaning:; its actual -meaning in the
Scriptures is clearly defined, and denotes when applied to
the death of Christ, that he died instead of - mankind.'
2. -It is. said that he died for our sins.
To die for sin, has but: one meaning' in'the scriptures.
In- the case of the sinner himself,:to die for his own sins,
uniformly denotes, to sueffr:death as the punishment of his
sins.  "But every one," says Jeremiah," shall die:for
his own iniquity; every man that eateth the sour grape,
his teeth. shall be set on. edge."t
-To die for the sin of another,,also, in no solitary instance which I can find denotes, to suffer death -as an
example to him, or for his reformation, or moral improvement; but in every case,- either to suffer death as a manifestation of the displeasure due to his sins, or to die
instead of the sinner.  Thus in Ezekiel, "6CThe son hath
walked in my statutes, he shall not die for the iniquity of
his father.":   So also in the inquiry of Balak, "Shall I
give my first-born for my -transgression, the fruit of my
body for the sin of my soul?"~  As these are all the passages in which these two phrases are found, except those
which relate to Christ; it is certain that the phrase to die
for the sin of another, never denotes to die for his reformation, but to suffer death as the manifestation of anger due
to his sin.
That Christ died for our sins, is taught in the most ex)licit manner.  It was predicted by Isaiah, "lie was
t For the Scriptural references in this and several of the following heads,
am chiefly indebted to Taylor on- the Atonement.
t Jer. xxKi. 30; and Ezekiel xviii. 26.:  Ezek. xviii. 17,
~ Mic. vi. 7.




34               DISCOURSES ON THE
wounded for our transgressions, he was bruised for our
iniquities."  " The Lord hath laid on him the iniquities of
us all."  " For the transgression of my people was he
stricken.*' It is declared with equal plainness in the New
Testament.  Paul says to the christians at Rome, "He
was delivered for our offences;"t-and- again,-" While
we were yet sinners, Christ died for us; —to the Corinthians, " Christ died for our sins, according to the Scriptures:"~-and to the Galatians, "He gave himself for our
sins;"11 —while Peter declares -" Christ also hath once suffered for sin, the Just for the unjust."~
From the uniform meaning of the phrase to die for sin,
it is therefore clear, that Christ's dying for our sins
denotes,-not his suffering death for our reformation, but
his suffering it, as the manifestation of the anger of God
due to our sins.
3. It is said that he died for the forgiveness or pardon
of our sins.
Forgiveness is remission of punishment; and punishment is the manifestation of displeasure, on the part of a
ruler against sin. That such is the scriptural use of these
terms, the following passages will prove.  Joshua said to
the Israelites, " The Lord will not forgive your transgressions; if ye forsake him, he will do you hurt, and consume you,""*  The consequence of God's not forgiving
their sins, was his consuming them.  " The Lord," says
the sacred historian, " sent the bands of the Chaldeans
against Judah, to destroy them, for the innocent blood,
which Manassah shed, which the Lord would not pardon;"tt so that God's refusing to pardon the sin of Judah,
q Is. liii. 5, 6. S.  f Rom. iv. 25.      $ Rom. v.8.
1 Cor. xv. 3.       11 Gal. i. 4.        [ 1 Pet. i. 18.
*- Josh. xxiv. 19, 20.    f t 2 Kings xxiv. 4.




DEATH OF CHRIST.                       35
was the cause of their destruction.  "' Thou hast forgiven
the iniquity of thy people," says David,'" thou hast turned
from  the fierceness of thine anger." *   "IIe  that shall
blaspheme against the Holy Ghost," says our Lord, 1" hath
never forgiveness; but is in danger of (Gr.'voXos; obnoxius; qui teneter quasi vinctas et obstrietus; doomed
to) eternal damnation."f   Never to have forgiveness, is
therefore the same thing, as to be doomed to eternal damnation.
The forgiveness of our sins, denotes therefore the remission of their punishment; and to die for the forgiveness of our sins, is the same thing as to die, that we may
be delivered from  the punishment of our sins.  But did
Christ die for the forgiveness or remission of our sins?
At the institution of the Sacramental Supper, he gave an
official and public explanation of the design of his death:
" This is my blood of the New Testament, which is shed
for many, for the remission of sins."t To the disciples
after his resurrection he said, " Thus it was necessary that
the Christ should suffer, and rise firom the dead, and that
repentance and remission of sins should be preached in his
name among all nations."~ Paul often uses similar languaoge.  To the Romans he writes, "Whom  God hath set
forth to be a propitiation, through faith in his blood, to
declare his righteousness for the remission of sins that are
S Ps. lxxxv. 1, 2.' Mark iii. 29. See also Ps. lxxviii. 38.-Lam. iii. 42, 43. —Heb. x. 26, 27.
-as well as the prayer of Solomon, 1 Kings viii. 33, 34, 35, 36, 37, 38, 39,
there in every instance to forgive, the sins of Israel, is explained to remove,me evil brought on them Jbr sin; in other words, to avert punishment.ee also Ex. x. 17.-Is. Iv. 7.-Jer. v. 7. 9, and xviii. 23, and xxxvi. 3.-Mic.
i. 18.-Matt. xii. 31.-Luke xii. 10.-Acts viii. 22, 24.-Heb. x. 17, 18. 2S,', 30.
t Matt. xxvi. 28.
~ Luke xxiv. 46,47. (ovros E&l nraOtv TOv Xpicrrov.)




36-                DISCOURSES ON THE
past, through the forbearance of God-;"  and both to the
Ephesians and Colossians, " In whom we have redemption
through: his blood, even:the forgiveness of sins."-t  AS
therefore Christ died for the forgiveness of our —sins, as
forgiveness is the remission of punishment, and as punish-i
ment is the manifestation of the anger of God due to our
sins; it:follows, that Christ died, in order  that:we might
be saved from  the punishment of our sins, or from  that
manifestation  of the  Divine  displeasure, which  they
deserve.  But if this be true, then, if he had not died we
must have received the punishment due to our sins.  Of
course his sufferings are -the reason why we do not suffer;
in other words they are vicarious, or a substitute for our
punishment.
4. It is said that he died as a sin-offering,-and as a
sacrifice for our sins.
We need not here enter at large into thle subject of sacrifice; nor inquire what the Heathens meant, by the sacrifices offered to their deities.  Neither is it necessary-to
investigate the design of all the various kinds of sacrifices,
prescribed in the ceremonial law.  Our attention will be
confined to sacrifices for sin, or as they are usually called
sin-offerings, and trespass offerings; and the design of
these we shall" learn from  the-:Scriptures- themselves:"'To the Law and-to the Testimony.'
A sacrifice for sin was an animal slain, and offered to
God, in behalf:of the sinner; -and the design of -it is-thus
explained by -the Lawgiver'who prescribed it: "'If the
whole congregation sin through: ignorance, they shall offer
a young bullock  for-the sin, and the bullock shall be killed
before the Lord; and the priest shall make atonement foi
$ Rom. iii 25.
t Eph. i. 7. and Col. l. 14.- See also 2 Cor. v. 19, 21. and Heb. x. 17, 18.




DEATH OF CHRIST.                   317
them, and it shall be forgiven them."'  C If a soul sin,
and commit a trespass against the Lord; he shall bring a
ram without blemish for a trespass-offering, and it shall be
forgiven him."t
By the very terms of the institution, therefore, a sinoffering, or a tres2pass-offering, was offered in sacrifice in
order that the sins of the offerer mnight be forgiven; in
other words, that he mighyt be delivered from the plnishiment of his sins.
That the writers of the New Testament understood the
subject in this manner, is certain.  We are told in the
epistle to the Hebrews-" By the Law, almost all things
are purged with blood; and without shedding of blood is
no remission;"j i. e. no deliverance from  the punishment
of sin. The Apostle, in this passage, not only declares
that sacrifices were offered for the pardon of sin; but that
there was no pardon, no remission of punishment, without
tle shedding  of blood.  In  the following chapter he
declares, "Now  where remission of these (of sins and
iniquities) is, there is no more offering for sin;"~-in
other words, where the sins of the worshipper are remitted,
he needs offer no farther sacrifice on account of them:showing most conclusively, that if his sins had not been
Forgiven, he must have offered sacrifice in order that they
night be forgiven;  and that his offering, or his not,ffering, a sacrifice for sin, was the turning point of,is pardon, or his punishment.  Again he says, " If we
in  wilfully,  after we have come to the knowledge of
ie truth, there remaineth no more sacrifice for sin,
it a certain fearful looking-for of judgment and fiery' Lev. iv. 13-20.
[ Lev vi. 1. 5, 6. and many other passages in the Pentateuch.
Heb. ix. 22.                          ~ Heb. x. 18.
4




38                   DISCOURSES  ON  THE
indignation:" —in other words, if a sinner has gone so
far in provoking  God, that no more sacrifice for his sins
can be accepted, then he has nothing before him but fiery
indignation; i. e. his sins cannot be forgiven, nor their
punishment be remitted. The design of sin offerings or sacrifices for sin, was therefore to procure the forgiveness of
sin, or the remission of its punishment.
But was Christ a Sacrifice for sin, or a Sin-Offering?
Isaiah predicted that he should be: " Thou shalt make his
soul an  offering  for sin."t   To  the  Corinthians, Paul
writes, " He hath  made him  to  be sin ( ce.pIc4v, a sinofferingS) for us, who knew no sin:"~ and to the Ephesians," Christ also hath  loved us, and given himself for
us, an offering and a sacrifice to God for a sweet-smelling
savour."ll   To the Hebrews he often declares this truth-' Christ needeth not daily, as those high priests, to offer
up sacrifice first for his own sins and then for the people's,
for this he did once, when he offered up himself."T  " Now
once in the end of the world, hath he appeared to put
away sin, by the sacrifice of himself.""   Christ was once
offered, "to bear the sins of many."ff —-" This man, after
he had offered one sacrifice for sin, forever sat down on the
right hand of God."$t
5 H-eb. x. 26, 27.
t Is. liii. 10. NV), the customary Hebrew word for tre-spass-oferinzg.
t The word Apaprta, in the Greek of the Septuagint, in at least 114 instances, denotes a sine offering; and is the customary rendering of arm the
Hebrew word for sizn-offering. As likewise, Christ kltew nzo siln, he was not
made to be sin for us, unless in one of these three senses, either, 1. That
our sins were so transferred to him that he became guilty of them; which
will not be admitted; or 2. That he became ant offering for sin; or 3. Thai
God treated hirme as a sinnzer for us. The two last meanings are substantiall5
the same.
~ 2 Cor. v. 21.         I1 Eph. v. 2.            It Heb. vii. 27.
-* Heb. ix. 26.         tt Heb. ix. 28..: Heb. x. 12.




DEATH OF CHRIST.                      39
As therefore Christ died as a Sacrifice for the sins of
men, or as a Sin-offering for us; and as the design of
sacrifices for sin or sin-offerings, was to procure the forgiveness of sins, or the remission of their punishment; it follows that the design of Christ's death was to procure the
forgiveness of our sins, or the remission of their punishnent.
This truth is strikingly illustrated and enforced by Paul,
when he calls Christ, "' Our Passover."   The word nto
(IITXa, Passover,) denotes both the day, on which the
feast was celebrated; and the lanmb, sacrificed at the feast.
The latter is obviously its meaning, wherever mention is
made of killing the passover;* of sacrificing the passover;t
of roasting the passover;-  and of eating the passover.~
As here applied to Christ, it will be admitted to have the
latter meaning; the allusion being most certainly not to the
day of the feast, but to the lamb, that was sacrificed for it.
To understand this allusion, we must remember that, on
the evening of that night, in which God was to manifest
the fierceness of his anger against the Egyptians, —the
night preceding the departure and deliverance of the Is.
raeltes —they were directed in every house to sacrifice a
lamb, and sprinkle its blood upon the door-posts;  that
wherever the blood of the pa-shal lamb-the passoverwas thus sprinkled, God passed over those houses and their
inhabitants, and did not visit them  with his vengeance;
while on those Israelites, whose houses were  not thus
sprinkled, his vengeance fell, as it did on the Egyptians.
a As in Ex. xii. 21; 2 Chron. xxx. 15. 17; xxxv. 1. 11; Ezra vi. 20; Mark
xiv. 12, and Luke xxii. 7.
Ex. xii. 27; xxiii. 18; xxxiv. 25; Deut. xvi. 2. 4, 5, 6; and I Cor. v. 7.
t 2 Chron. xxxv. 13.; Ex..xii. 11; 2 Chron. xxx. 18; Matt. xxvi. 17; Mark xiv. 12; Luke xxii.
J. 1., 15, and John xviii. 28,  In all twenty-five instances,




40                 DISCOORSES ON THE
The blood of the passover, (the paschal lamb) was therefore shed, that those who were sprinkled with it might be
passed over in the hour of vengeance, or might be delivered from the anger of God.
As the deliverance of Israel from the bondage of Egypt,
ancl their settlement in the land of promise, represented
the deliverance of the church of God from  sin, and their
establishment in "1 a better country, even a heavenly;" we
can easily understand the Apostle when he calls the blood
of Christ " The blood of sprinkling;" and when he says,'" Christ our passover (our paschal lamb) was sacrificed
for us."'  The true " Israel of God," those who are
sprinkled with s" the blood of sprinkling,"t-the blood of
Christ CG our paschal Iamb," "' the Lamb of God, who
taketh away the sin of the world "-will be passed over, or
be saved from the vengeance of God, when it shall fall on
the world of the ungodly.
It is said that the passover, or paschal lamb, was not a
sacrifice.  When,, however, we remember that it was a
lamb, slain, and offered to God; that the sacred wrrters
speak familiarly of sacrificing the passover;: and that the
Apostle, in this very passage, says'' Christ, our Passover,
was sacrificed, STruI ~ for us; we cannot: be at a loss on this
point.  It is also said that if the paschal lamb was a sacri.
fice, it was not a sacrifice for sin, or a sin-offering.  To
this it is sufficient to reply, 1. That although it is not expressly called a sacrifice for sin in its institution, yet it is
declared to have had the same efficacy,-that of saving
him who offered  it from  the wrath of God:" -And the
blood shall be to you for a token upon the houses where ye
*-1 Cor. v. 7.                 t Heb. xii. 24.
$ Ex. xii. 27; xxiii. 1; xxxiv. 25; Deut. xvi. 2. 4, 5, 6; 1 Cor. v, 7,' Obw is the qppropriate Greelk verb for, to sacrifice,




DEATH  OF CHRIST.                          41
are; and when I see the blood, I will pass over you, and
the plague shall not be upon you to destroy you."'-2.
That we prove Christ to have been a Sacrifice for sin, or a
Sin-offering, —not because he is called our passover, butbecause, in numerous passages, it is expressly said, that he
was a sacrifice for sin and a sin-offering.4
5. It is said that the Death of Christ was an Atonenent for the sins of men.
The word To ATONE, is in the Hebrew  in; and signifies, 1. To cover, to overlajy.   This is probably its original
meaning.$    And because  sins are  metaphorically covered
or  hidden from   the  sight, when  thley  are forgiven, it
denotes, 2. To forgive, to be merciful to.~   Hence, as a
causative  verb, it denotes, 3. To procure for/iveness, to
expiate, to nmake atonement; and is the word, in  the original of  the  old  Testament, uniformly  answering  to  the
phrase, to make atonement.ll
W Lev. xli. 13.
t See the passages referred to in pp. 29, 3O
t In this sense it occurs Gen. vi. 14, " thou shalt pitch (cover) it;' and, as
a lo.,17, in the same sense denotes pitek,L "so called from its use for smearin2g, covering." ( Gesenius.)-In a similar sense in Is. xxviii. 18. Your covenant shall be disannzulled, " blotted out, obliterated, because a writing was
thus covered by drawing the style over it" (Gesenius.) In a similar sense,
as a nzoun, it denotes a village, in 1 Chron. xxvii. 25. Cant. vii. 11. Neh.
vi. 2; and Ezek. xxxviii. 13, became obscure, Jiddez:-Snlow and hoarfr'ost.
as coverin.g the ground, in Ex. xvi. 14; Job xxxviii. 29; Ps. cxlvii. 16:The alhest?,a in Cant. vii. 11. (Gr. svrpoo, Eng. Tr. camphor, or cypress-tree:)
and a bribe in 1 Sam. xii. 3.-Amos v. 12, because a bribe covers the eyes.
S As denoting to forgive, it is used in DeUt. xxi. 8, 8;.xxii. 43.; 2 Chron.
xxx. 18; Ps. lxv. 3; lxxviii. 38; lxxix. 9; Proy. xvi. 6; Is. vi. 7?; xxiv. 14;
xxvii. 9; and Jer. xviii. 23. In several of these passages it is rendered
purge and cleanse.
i{ To make atonement, to expiate, is its customary meaning.  As a verb, in
the following passages, it is translated to make atonement. En. xxix. 33. 36,
37; xxx. 10, 10. 15, 16; xxxii. 30; Lev. i. 4. 20. 26. 31. 35; v. 6. 10. 13.
6. 18; vi. 7; vii. 7; viii. 34; ix. 7. 7; x. 17; xii. 7, 8; xiv. 18, 19, 202 21,
4:tfe




42                      ISCOURESE   S ON  TiI
The  Offerings, mentioned  as presented for atonement,
were different in different cases.
1. When  an  ox  gored  a man  to  death, if the  owner
knew that he was wont to push in times past; the general
law required him to be put to death; but there were circumstances in which  he  might pay a sum  of money s" for
the ransom  of his life."'   If the person gored were a freeman, the  amount to  be paid was to be determined by the
ordinary tribunals; but in  the  case  of a servant it was
regularly thirty shekels of silver. As the mulclet in the
29. 31. 53; xv. 15. 30; xvi. 6. 10, 11. 16, 17, 17, 18. 24. 27. 30. 32, 33, 33, 33,
34; xvii. 11. 11; xix 22. —Num. v. 8; vi 11; viii. 12. 19. 21; xv. 25 28, 28;
xvi. 46, 47; xxv. 13; xxviii. 22 30; xxix. 5; xxxi. 50; 2 Sam. xxi. 3; 1
Chron. vi. 49; 2 Chron. xxix. 24; Neh. x. 33.
As a?oun, it is rendered Atonement in Ex. xxix. 36; xxx. 10. 16; Lev,
xxiii. 27, 28; xxv. 9; Num. v. 8; xxix. 11.
As a verb, it is used in a similar sense, in Num. xxxv. 33; 1 Sam. iii. 14;
Ez. xliii. 20. 26. where it is translated to purge, to cleanzse: in Lev..vi. 30;
viii. 15; xvi. 20; Ez. xlv. 15. 17. 20; Dan. ix. 24, where it is rendered to
reconcile, to mak/e reconciliationz, and should be.rendered to make atonement:
-in Gen. xxxii. 20; Prov. xvi. 14; Ezek. xvi, 63, where it is rendered to
pacify, to aplpease, because an atonement, an expiation procures folrgiveess,
or pacifies anger.
As a qzoztn, it is used inz a similar sense, in Num. xxxv. 31, 32. where it is
rendered satisjcetiox,: —in Ex. xxi. 30. where it is rendered a sumn of monzey,
i. e. a fine as giving satisfaction for an injury:-in Ex. xxx. 12; Job xxxiii.
24; xxxvi. 1S; Ps. xlix. 7; Prov. vi. 35; xiii. 8; xxi. 1S; Is. xliii. 3. where
it is rendered a ransom, and in all but the two last denotes a ransof for
the liyk, because an atoneiment released or ranzsomed from punishment:-in
Ex. xxv. 17, 1I, 19, 20, 20, 20. 22; xxx. 6; xxxi. 7; xxxv. 11; xxxvii. 6, 7,
8, 9, 9; xxxix. 35; xl. 18; Lev. xvi. 2, 2. 13, 14, 15, 15; Num. vii. S9; where
it is rendered (Sept. tAaca7rptov) mercy-seat, i. e. the place qf expiatios, or o
rereivz2tg parcdob:-and in Amos ix. 1. ('nr, by mistake for nerd),where i
is rendered altar, or that onz so/tic the atoning sacrifice is offered.
Thus of the 154 instances, in which the word occurs, 13 appear to refe
directly to its original meaning, to cover; 12 to the second meaning, to.fol
give; and 129 to the third, to smake atornement.  Of these last SO0 are rendere
Atonzemenzt in our version, and 49 by nouns or verbs of a cognate signi!
cation.
* Ex. xxi. 28-30.




DE.AT-1 OF C0HRIST.               43
case of a servant went to his master, it is probable that
in the case of a freeman it went to the surviving relatives.
2. Whenever a census was taken of the children of Israel, every man of twenty years and upwards, was required
to bring half a shekel to the priests " for the service of the
tabernacle of the congregation."'  The service of the
tabernacle of the congregation required, every day, the
offering of a lamb of the first year every morning for a
burnt-offering, and of another every evening; and with
each lamb a tenth deal of flour, mingled with a fourth part
of a bin of beaten oil, and the fourth part of an bin of
wine;t and in addition to these, there were very expensive
weekly, monthly, and yearly sacrifices for the whole congregation. The money given for this service was called
"the atonement-money of the children of Israel;"$ and
was " given by every man unto the Lord for the ransom of
his life, when thus numbered, that there might be no
plague among them, when they were numberecld."~ As it
went to the service of the tabernacle, and thus furnished
the sin-offerings and burnt-offerings which made atonement
for the whole people; it might well be called " the atonement-money of the children of Israel."
3. An individual, for the following offences-for not
disclosing the truth, when adjured as a witness; for touching a carcass; for touching an unclean person; and for
unintentionally neglecting to do what he had sworn;if he was so poor that he could not bring a lamb, nor even
two turtle-doves, nor two young pigeons;-was directed to
bring the tenth part of an ephah of fine flour for a sin-: Ex xxx. 12-16. and Numbers xxxi. 48 —54.
t Ex. xxix. 38 —42.                    j Ex. xxx. 16.
~ Ex. xxx. 12. See Selden, De Jcre NVat. et. Genzt. Lib ii. c. 8.




44               DISCOURSES ON THE
offering; and the priest took a handful of it, and burnt it
on the altar, as a sin offering, and the priest made an
atonement for him as touching his sin; and it was forgiven
him.' Had he been able to bring a lamb, he would have
been required to offer it as a sin-offering to make an atonement; or could he have brought the two doves, or pigeons,
one would have been offered as a sin-offering, and the other
as a burnt-offering, to make atonement.t  As he could do
neither, the flour, on account of his extreme poverty, was
accepted, instead of the regular sin-offering —a mere substitute for the animal sacrifice which he otherwise must
have offered for his sins. But, because God accepts the
solitary prayer of the sick man on his bed, as his worship
on the Sabbath; does it therefore follow, that solitary worship, and not the worship of the sanctuary, is the worship
of the Sabbath? If not, neither can it be alleged from this
exception in an extreme case that atonement could be made
without sacrifice.
4. In the revolt of Korah the congregation had united,
the anger of God was kindled, and the people were falling
dead before it.  In this emergency Moses said to Aaron,' Take a censer, and put fire therein from off the altar,
and put on incense, and go quickly unto the congregation,
and make an atonement for them; for wrath is gone out
from the Lord; the plague is begun!" Aaron did so,
"' and he put on incense, and made an atonement, and
stood between the living and the dead; and the plague
was stayed."T  Had there been time, Aaron was required
to bring the two goats for a sin-offering, and a ram for a
burnt offering to the door of the tabernacle, and kill one
of the goats, and the ram: and to take a censer full of
4 Lev. v. 11-14.  t Lev. v. 6 7.: Numbers xvi. 41-59.




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 45
coals from off the altar, and put the incense on the fire,
that the cloud of incense might cover the mercy-seat; and
then to take the blood of the goat, and sprinkle it with his
finger on the altar, and then to confess the sins of the people on the head of the other goat, and send him away into
the wilderness.*  All this required time, and supposed the
high priest to have leisure to do it.  But, in the existing
emergency, when the people were dying by thousands,
Moses, being divinely instructed for the given case, and
believing that God will have mercy and not sacrifice, and
that God requireth of a man, according to what he hath,
and not according to what he hath not, very wisely directed
Aaron to omit what he could not do, towards makling the
atonement for the people-the sacrifice of the ram and of
one goat, the sprinkling with its blood, and the sending
forth of the other; and to do what he could do-to take
the censer, and the holy fire, and to burn the sweet incense, that God might accept it for an atonement.  But
can this case of awful necessity, when, and that too within
the space of a few moments, fourteen thousand seven hunm
dred were dead, before Aaron could finish doing what he
did do by way of atonement;-can it prove that the regular Levitical atonement was made merely by incense, or
that the victims, the sacrificed goat and ram, both pre,
scribed as an essential part of the atonement in the same
law which prescribed the censer, the fire, and the incense,
did not constitute a part of the atonement?  Because
Christ did not direct the thief on the cross to be baptized,
when he professed his faith in him  does it therefore follow
that it is not our duty to be baptized, as well as to believe?
The three last are all the instances which I have been
* Leyv. -Zvi. F-2~




46                DISCOURSES ON THE
able to find, in which it can be even supposed that an
atonement was made to God, without the sacrifice of life.
In the first, the money thus paid by the whole nation,
bought the animals for the service of the tabernacle;
which, when sacrificed, made an atonement. Of course,
though it was called the atonement-money, yet the atonement was not made without the sacrifice of life. And
when the individual, as he paid it to procure the burnt-offering and the sin offering, to make atonement, was told
that it was'" for the ransom of his life," he was most affectingly reminded, that his life was forfeit, and -that the
life of the animal was sacrificed instead of his own. In
the second, the individual was told that the law required
a lamb, for a sin-offering to make an atonement for him, but
that on account of his utter inability to furnish it, or even
two doves, God was pleased to accept the fine flour as a
sin-offering.   On the third I need make no comments.
These eases, I think, will satisfy no one that the Levitical
atonement did not imply the substitution of a life; as
that of the man gored by an ox was not an example of an
atonement made to God, but a mere pecuniary satisfaction
to the survivors; while of the three last the first was a
case of money paid to procure the sacrifices which made
atonement; and the second and third were cases, in which
sacrifices were expressly required for sin-offerings to make
atonement, but, owing to extreme necessity, could not be
procured.
5. In two instances atonement is represented as made
by the sacrifice of human life. When the people began
to commit whoredom with the women of Moab, and the
fierce anger of the Lord was kindled against Israel, and
the plague was begun; Zimri, a prince of Simteon, brought




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 47
his Midianitish woman into the midst of the camp before
Moses and the people, as they were assembled to weep
and to humble themselves at the door of the tabernacle,
on account of this very sin. And when Moses called on
the judges to slay every one his man of them that were
thus guilty, Phinehas, the grandson of Aaron, rose up, and
took his javelin, and thrust both of them through; and the
plague was stayed, after twenty-four thousand had died.
And God blessed him, "~ because he was zealous for his
God, and made an atonement for the children of Israel."'
Here the life of the guilty persons was the atonement.
The anger of God was really manifested against them,
instead of being manifested, as it usually was typically,
against the life of the animal offered as a sacrifice for sin.
The other case was the following. The Israelites had
sworn to the Gibeonites, by Joshua, to preserve them; yet'" Saul and his bloody house" in their zeal for Israel had
slain them.  For this, God sent a famine on Israel; and
David, on inquiring the reason of the Lord, was answered,
" It is for Saul and his bloody house, because he slew the
Gibeonites." He then assembled the Gibeonites, and asked them, " What shall I do for you and wherewithal shall I
make the atonement, that ye may bless the inheritance of
the Lord.  And the Gibeonites said' Let seven men of
the sons of him, who plotted against us to destroy us, be
delivered unto us; and we will hang them  up unto the
Lord in Gibeah of Saul.l-  The atonement here spoken of
was made by the sacrifice of the life of seven of the guilty
family; but it was an atonement to the Gibeonites; a satisfaction for the murders inflicted on them by Saul and his
bloody house; just as every criminal makes an atonement,
$ Numbers xxv. 1-13.           f 2 Sam. xxi. 1-9.




48                DISCOURSES ON THE
a satisfaction to the violated laws of his country when he
suffers their penalty.
These two cases however, although they explain the
general nature of Atonement, yet exhibit the word rather
in the way of accommodation, than in its strict Levitical
import. But we are now prepared to learn its official appropriate meaning, when used to explain the actual efficacy of the sacrifices appointed in the ceremonial code of the
Israelites.
Here it may be proper to inquire, when an animal was
sacrificed to make atonement, in what did the atonement,
consist? This question is directly and formally answered
in the law itself: "  /The life of the flesh is in the blood;
and I have given it you upon the altar to make an atonement, for your souls; (lives =:.:;) for it is THE BLOOD,
that mnakleth an atonement for the life."' Here it is expressly said that the blood maketh the atonement, because
TIHE LIFE is in the blood.  The atonement therefore consists in the shedding of the blood, as the seat of the life;
in other words, it consists in the cutting off of life, or the
infliction of death.
The Levitical law gave directions with regard to sacrifices for atonement in the following cases:
1. In the case of -Diseases. (1.) For recovery from
leprosy.  The priest taking two birds, was to sacrifice one,
and sprinkle the leper with blood, and let the other bird
loose.  And the priest was to offer three lambs, for a trespass-offering, a sin-offering, and a burnt-offering; and
sprinkle the blood of the first on the leper, and make an
atonemnent.t  (2.) For recovery from a running issue, the
priest was to offer one turtle-dove or pigeon for a sin-offerx Lev. xvii. 11.            t Lev. xiv. 4-7, 10-20.




DEATH  OF CHRIST.                          49
ing, and another for a burnt offering.'   (3.) In the case
of puerpery.   The priest was to brine a lamb for a burntoffering, and a pigeon, or turtle-dove for a sin-offering to
the door of the  tabernacle, and  sacrifice  them  and  make
atonement; and  the  mother was cleansed.t (4.) For a
house infected with leprosy. The priest taking two birds
was to sacrifice one, and sprinkle the house with  its blood,
and let the other loose.t The very language of the law,
in these cases, led the diseased  person  to  regard  diseases
as the fruit of sin; and, in those which were peculiarly
painful and defiling, God required him  when recovered, not
only to present a thank-offering, but by a sacrifice for sin
to make an atonement for his sins, of which he had  thus
been most affectingly and solemnly reminded, and thus distinctly  to  acknowledge, what was  most true, that he
deserved  death  at the hands of God.   That the Jews regarded the subject in this light, is obvious not only from
the languatge of scripture, but from the uniform testimony
of their distinguished writers.~
2. In  cases of  Ceremonial Uncleanness, (1.)  Touch) Lev. xv. 14, 15. 29, 30.   t Lev. xii 6, 7.  j: Lev. xiv. 51-53.
" In the opinion of all the Jewish writers of eminence even those cases
of defilement which were involubntary, such as leprosy, child-bearing, &c.
uniformly implied an idea of guilt. Thus Abarbanel, speaking of the case
of puerpery in the 12th of Leviticus, says that " without committing sin, no
one is ever exposed to sufferingg; that it is a principle with the Jewish Doctors that there is no pain? without crime; and that therefore, the woman who
had endured the pains of child-birth was required to offer a piacular sacrifice."  In the case of the leper in Lev. xiv. he remarks that the sin-offering
was enjoined, "because the whole of the Mosaic religion being founded on
this principle that whiatever jefals anzy ]hcnmae creature is the result ofJprovidential appointment, the leper must consider his malady as a judicial inflictios
for some tra7sgressioe."'  Magee on Atonement and Sacrifice, N. Y. Ed. p.
154.-That this principle is correct and scriptural is certain; for although we
cannot learn the comparative sins of men from the dispensations of the
present life, nor conclude that the afflicted are greater sinners than the prosperous, as the Jews did, with regard to those who were crushed by the




50                 DISCOURSES ON THE
ing the carcass of an unclean beast.' (2.) Touching the
uncleanness of men.t These persons need only wash to
be clean, unless they entered the sanctuary;4 but, in that
case, were required to offer a lamb for a sin-offering, to
make atonement.  The reason given for this was, that the
sanctuary was most holy, that no one who was impure
could enter it without profaning it, and that every one who
thus entered it was sentenced'" to be cut off from among
his people," unless he offered a sin-offering to make an
atonement.~ (3.) In the case of the Nazarite.1I A Nazarite was bound by a vow, during the days of his separation, 1. To abstain wholly from wine and the fruit of the
vine.1~  2. Not to shave his head.'*   3. Not to come
near any dead body, even that of his father or mother, or
any other thing that might communicate ceremonial uncleanness.tt-If he was present with a dead body, even
by accident, as in the case of sudden death; it was regarded as sin and he was required after seven days' cleansing to offer two turtle doves, one for a sin-offering, and one
for a burnt-offering, to make atonement for him, for that
he sinned by the dead.j4   He was then to shave his head
and commence his days of separation anew. To be present with a dead body, was a ceremonial sin, and therefore
to be thus purged. And the reason of this precept, says
Abarbanel, (Preface to the book of Leviticus, chap. xiv.,)
tower of Siloam; yet nothing is more certain than that we are taught in the
Scriptures to regard every species of suffering as the legitimate-fuit of sinb;
to view the sufferings which we ourselves endure as chastisements for our
ersonzal sitns; and to acknowledge that we have merited far more than we
receive. See Ontram on Sacrifices, Eng. Tr. D. I. C. 12. ~~ 6, 7.
Lev. v. 2.                            t Lev. v. 3.
$ Lev. xi. 28. 40, and Num. xix. 13. 19, 20.
~ Lev. vii. 20, 21, and Num. xix. 13. 20.
1l Num. vi.       ~ Num. vi. 3, 4.       t* Num. vi. 5.'t Num. vi. 6, 7.:t Num. vi. 9-12.




DEATH OF CHRIST.                       51
was " to make men very cautious how they contracted any
defilement."
3. In  the case of Consecrations. (1) Of the priests.
To consecrate Aaron and his sons, Moses offered a bullock
for a sin-offering, and two rams for a burnt-offering; putting the blood of the bullock on the horns of the altar,
sprinkling the blood of one of the rams round about the
altar, and that of the other on the persons and garments
of Aaron and  his sons, to make  atonement for them.*
(2.) Of the altar and the tabernacle.  Moses was directed
to sacrifice a bullock every  day for seven days to make
atonement upon the altar.t
4. For sins of i{norance.t  (1.) Of the priests.  (2.)
Of the whole congregation.  In each of these cases a bullock for a sin-offering, to make atonement.~ (3.) Of a
ruler. (4.) Of one of the common people:-for each a
kid of the goats for a sin-offering for his sin, to make atonement.li  (5.) For a sin of ignorance in the holy things of
the Lord, a ram  for a trespass-offering to make atonement.~
These sins were not those in which the ig{norance was
invincible, and where the law of God- in the given case
could not be known; but the ignorance was voluntary and
therefore criminal.~* The language of the Law proves
this.  " If any one sin through ignorance, while he doeth
Ex. xxix. 10-33,
t Ex. xxix. 36, 37, and xxx. 10, and Lev. xvi. 15-19.
t Lev. iv. and Num. xv. 27-29.
~ Lev. iv. 3. 13. 20.    11 Lev. iv. 22. 26,27. 35.    ~ Lev. v. 15, 16.
Ad They were sins committed i7 ignoralnce, just in the same manner as
the Jews are represented, in Acts iii. 17, to have crucified Christ Kara ayvotav,
throsgh ign oraitce; just as Paul ascribes all the wickedness of the heathens
to the ioora7,ce that was in them (Sta rtv ayloav) because of the hardness
of their hearts; and as Peter calls their sinfuil lasts, v ayvowa EnuftOUiatL, lusts
in ign7oraznce. Magee on At. and Sac. 192.




52                DISCOURSES ON THE
somewhat against any of the commandments of the Lord,
which ought not to be done, and is guilty."' They were
opposed to presumptuous sins, and were committed inivoluntarily, imprudently or by mistake.t  Three things were
necessary to constitute the sinll; 1. It was something prohibited, and not a sin of omission.  The language is "' concerning things which ought not to be done."  2. It was
done not wilfully.  3. It was not for transgression in
thoughlt, but in external act; "; and shall do against any of
them.'"
5. For individual sins of greater aggravation.  (1.)
For a witness to keep back the truth, when the judge a&d
jured him by an oath to disclose it. He was to bring a lamb
for a trespass-offering to make atonement.~ —(2.) For
fraud, Breaeh of trust, lying, false-swearing, and fraudulent detention of the property of others.  The offender
was not only to make restitution, and add a fifth; but to
bring a ram for a trespass-offering to make atonement.1l(3.) For sinfully neglecting to perform, what he had
bound himself by an oath to perform.  lie was to bring a
lamb for a trespass-offering, to make atonement. —(4.)
For impurity with a woman betrothed. He was to bring a
ram for a trespass-offering, to make an atonement.*
6. For the sins of the Priests, on the day of Atonement.
A young bullock was offered for a sin-offering, and a rain
for a burnt-offering; the blood being sprinkled on, and before, the mercy seat to make atonement for them.
7. For the sins of the congregation at large. (1.) On
the day of Atonement.  The Great day of Atonement was
k Lev. iv. 27.
t Schleusner. Thesau. in LXX. aKovU,)ol, lo07 s poznte, imnprudenter, per
errorem.: Lev. iv. 27.      ~ Lev. v. 1,      11 Lev, vi. 1 —7.
[ Lev. v. 4.       *A Lev. xix. 20-23.




DEATH OF CHRIST.                  53
an annual celebration; a day of humiliation appointed on
the tenth day of the seventh month.  It was " for all the
iniquities of the children of Israel and all their transgressions in all their sins, to make atonement for them.", The
high priest was directed to take a ram for a burnt offering,
and two kids of the goats for a sin-offering, to present them
to the Lord before the door of the tabernacle; to take a
censer full of fire from the altar, and put sweet incense
upon it within the veil, that the cloud of incense might
cover the mercy-seat; to sacrifice the ram and one of the
goats, and sprinkle the altar and make atonement, to confess the sins of the people on the head of the other, and
then send him away loaded with the sins of the people into
the wilderness.-(2.)  In the cases of the rebellion of
Korah, and of the sin of the people with the women of
IMoab, atonement was made for the people.  These cases
have been already sufficiently examined.
There were various sins, for which no sin-offering was
pointed out; and for which no atonement could be made,
but by the destruction of the sinner's life. The law pointed
out no atonement for murder, adultery, incest and various
other species of impurity, filial impiety, or idolatry.  In
the case of murder, it is expressly said, "s Moreover ye
shall take no atonement (t..) for the life of a murderer,
who is guilty of death; for blood it defileth the land; and
to the land no atonement shall be made, (-'i_.e-    7?~57)
for the blood that is shed therein, but by the blood of him
that shed it.", —In thet case also of the children of Eli, it is
said,'" The iniquity of Eli's house shall never be atoned for,
(~t3 =. ) by sacrifice or offering.'
What then was the efceacy of an Atonement.
k Numbers xxxv, 31, 33,




54              DISCOURSES ON THE
The owner of the unruly ox, paid a sum of money as a
civil penalty " for the ransom of his life." In the case of
numbering the people it was atonement-money paid, by
each man, " for the ransom  of his life."  In the case of
the Gibeonites, the anger of God was turned away, and
the famine prevented. In the various cases of recovery
from disease, the sins of the individual were forgiven. In
the cases of ceremonial uncleanness, the ceremonial sins of
the individual were pardoned; and without making the
prescribed atonement, it is expressly said that the individual " shall be cut off from Israel."  In the case of consecrations, it procured the pardon of the priests and the
Levites. In every case of a sin of ignorance, where
atonement was made, as well as in every case of more
aggravated sins, the sin was forgiven. On the great day
of Atonement it procured the forgiveness of," all the
iniquities, and all the transgressions in all the sins " of both
priests and people, for the preceding year. This language
is universal, including every offence which was capable of
expiation.  In the case of KIorah, as soon as Aaron had
made atonement; as well as in that of the Moabitish
women, when Phinehas had made atonement; the plague
was stayed, and the people ceased to die; and in the latter
God said of Phinehas, " He hath turned my wrath away:from the children of Israel, that I consumed them not-he
was zealous for his God and made an atonement for the
children of Israel."  In addition to this it is said, in the:official explanation of the nature and design of the Atonement, " For the life of the flesh is in the blood, and I have
given it to you upon the altar, to make an atonement for
your lives; for it is the blood, that maketh atonement for
the life." If then, by the phrase vicarious suffering, we
denote any evil inflicted on one being, to expiate the sin of




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 55
another, that is, to save the other from punishment, and
plrocure the pardon of his sins; then it is certain, that the
sufferings and death of the animals, sacrificed to make
atonement under the Levitical Dispensation, were in the
strictest sense vicarious.  In other words, in the sufferings
inflicted on the animal in taking away his life, there was a
typical manifestation of the anger of God, which was
instead of the real manifestation of it in the punishment of
the sinner; and the former was accepted by God in lieu of
the latter.
But is it declared in the Scriptures, that the DEATH OF
CHRIST WAS AN ATONEMENT FOR THE SINS OF MEN?  The
assertion, that this is no where said, has been often made;
and with a rashness, which can be excused on no other
supposition, than that those who make it, have looked no
farther than to the words of the English Version.
It is here distinctly admitted, that the word Atonement,
is found but once in the English New Testament, —Rom.
v. 11, " By whom we have now received the atonement;and that the original, 7-v xaraXxya7~v, ought not to have
been rendered the atonement, but reconciliation.  Let us
then examine whether it is not asserted, in both Testaments,
that the death of Christ was an atonement for sin.
In the vision of Daniel, relating to the kingdom of the
Messiah, the angel Gabriel informs him, "' Seventy weeks
are determined upon thy people, and upon thy holy city,to finish the transgressions, and to make an end of sins,
and to make reconciliation for iniquity, (in the Hebrew,
1i. ti.:. and to make atonement for iniquity,) and to
bring in everlasting righteousness." To whom this refers,
the following verses explain: " IKnow therefore and understand, that, from the going forth of the commandment to
restore and to rebuild Jerusalem, unto THE MESSIAH the




56                     DISCOURSES ON THE
Prince, shall be seven weeks, and threescore and two weeks;
and after the threescore and two weeks shall the MESSIAH
be cut off, but not for himself; and he shall confirm the
covenant with many for one week; and in the midst of the
week, the sacrifice and the oblation shall cease." Here
then it is expressly asserted that, when the Messiah shall
be  cut off, but not for himself, he shall make Atonement
for iniquity.
We will now examine the  state  of the fact with  regard
to the Old Testament. The word'ar we have seen, occurs in the Old Testament in 154 instances; 13 of which
refer to its original meaning, to cover; 12 to its second
meaning,  to forgive; and  129  to  its usual meaning, to
make atonement, of which 80 are rendered atonement, or to
make atonement in our version, and 49 by nouns or verbs
of a  cognate  signification.   In  the Greek of the Septuagint ith  is rendered by the verbs,xtxo,uia, and es.uaXxopa,
both meaning, to make atonement, to propitiate, in  81  instances; and  by their derivative  nouns in 39 more;' and
by the words, Xuzpov and  Eqpopa, both denoting  atonement,
ransom, and aXXayhta substitute in 10:t-in all 130. These
* EtXIacoKVLL, to make atonemenzt, occurs in 78 instances: Gen. xxxii 20;
Ex. xxx 10. 15, 16; xxxii. 290; Lev. 1. 4; iv. 20. 26. 31. 35; v. 6. 10. 13. 16.
18; vi. 6. 30.37; viii. 15. 34; ix. 7, 7; x. 17; xii. 7, 8; xiv. 18, 19, 21. 29.
31. 53; xv. 15. 29; xvi. 6. 10, 11. 16, 17, 17, 18. 20. 24, 27. 30. 32, 33, 33, 33, 34;
xvii 11, 11; xix. 22; xxiii. 28; Num. v. 8; vi. 11; viii. 13. 19. 21; xv. 23. 26,
20; xvi. 46, 47; xxv 13. 31. 50; xxxv. 33; Deut. xxi. 8; 1 Kings iii. 14;2
Kings xxi. 3; 1 Chron. vi. 49; 2 Chron. xxix. 24; xxx. 19; Neh. x. 33;
Prov. xvi 15; Ezek. xvi. 62; xliii. 20. 26; xlv. 15. 17. 20; Dan. ix. 21.EStXaa-l, Atonement, occurs in Num. xxix. 11. —E.tXaaya, Atonemenzt, in 1
Kings xii. 3, and Ps. xlviii. 7; EtXa.tosq, Atoneme?nt, in Ex. xxx. 10; Lev.
xxiii. 27, 28; xxv. 9, and I Chron. xxviii. 11.
Xaa.Kopla, To make' Atonement, occurs in three instances. Ps. 1xiv. 3;
lxxvii. 42; lxxviii. 9. TAaanog, Atomnement, in Numbers v. 8, and tXarranpiov,
mercy-seat, in the 25 already recited in a preceding note.
f Avroov occurs in Ex xxi 30; xxx. 12; Num. xxxv. 31, 32; Prov. vi.
35; xiii. 8. EirgopCt in Ex. xxx. 16. AXXaygau in Is. xliii 3, and Amos v. 12.




DEATH OF CHRIST.                         57
facts  are  sufficient to  prove that the words,xatxoP. r  and,x~adxot~r.  as verbs, and  their derivatives Jxaoyo,, EsOXantPos &c. as nouns, are  the appropriate words in the Greek
for rendering the word'nn  To make Atonement, from  the
Hebrew.
But, on  opening  the  New Testament, we find  that the
Apostle to the IIebrews says of Christ, " It behoved him
to  be  made like unto  his brethren; that he might be a
merciful and  faithful  high  priest, ses To  TIc0xs 5ei ratpr;,sg Trou Xhou  to  make atonement for the sins of the
people."'  John  too  declares, "And  he  is the  XLadftogS
Atonement for our sins; and not for ours only, but for the
sins of the whole world.t  In a subsequent chapter he tells'S:, "' Herein is love, not that we loved  God but that he
loved us, and sent his Son to be the IXraqov, atonement for
our sin.s.t  And  the Apostle  to  the  Romans  declares,
" Whom  God hath  set forth to be JXcta-pjov, an atonement
through faith in his blood, to  declare his righteousness for
the remission  of sins that are  past."~   It is said  that,
IXcarptov, though  denoting  etymologically, the place  of
atonement or propitiation, always denotes in the Septuagint
the merc/-seat, and therefore does not denote an atonement
here.  What then I ask was the mercy-seat?  It was the. It is rendered by Alwow to forigive in Jer. xviii. 23. by Aylawg to purify, in
Ex. xxix. 33. 36; by Aqot(LOw, to put away (sin,) in Is. xxvii. 9, and xxviii.
18; by AotYtLt to pult away in Is xxii. 14; by eKcaOaptSo to plrify, in Deut
xxxii. 43; by KaOaptiw to purify in Ex. xxix. 37, and xxx. 20; by KOaOloapros
7urificatiou?, in Ex. xxix. 36, and xxx. 10; by KaOapo; yvoyaat Ibecome pure,
in Is. i. 16.
It is rendered bly KWll a village, in 1 Chron. xxvii. 25; Neh. vi. 2; Cant.
vii. 11, Ezek. xxxviii. 13: by opXvN a cloud, Ps. cxlvii 11.; by rrayog and
7rax,, stow, hoa/i'ost, in Ex. xvi. 14. and Job xxxviii. 29; by AtroaXTow to
smear, and Amp Xro; plitch, in Gen. vi. 14; by vrpooS the cypress, in Cant. i13, and by Kcarntruapa, a veil, in Ex. xxvi. 34, and xxx. 16.
* Heb. ii. 17.    t 1 John ii. 2.    1 1 John iv. 10.    ~ Romans iii. 25.




*r 8                DISCOURSES ON THE
golden cover of the ark, with a golden cherub at each end,
made out of it, and overshadowing it with his wings.  On
it and before it, the blood of Atonement, was sprinkled, and
the atonement for sin made.  Surely then the Apostle did
not intend to be understood literally, that Christ was the
golden cover of the ark.  In  the very passage, he speaks
of the blood of Christ, as procuring for us the forgiveness of
sins, and Moses tells us that the blood of the sin-offering,
continually  sprinkled  on and  before  the iXad,-prov, made
atonement, and  procured  the forgiveness of sin.  This of
itself would be sufficient to prove that the Apostle when he
calls Christ the LXaff-plov intends, not the mercy-seat itself,
but either the atonement which the blood of Christ made,
or the victim, the atoning sacrifice, whose blood made the
atonement.  But when too  we find him  using a similar
figure in two other cases-" We have an altar, 4uotc,',ptov,
of which they have no right to eat who serve the tabernacle;" i. e. an offering, a sacrifice; and again, " They who
minister at the altar ought to be partakers of the altar-not
surely of the altar itself-a mere heap of stones, but-of
the sacrifices offered upon it; when also we find him in the
passage just quoted, expressly declaring that Christ made
atonement for the sins of the people; when likewise we
find Josephus, an Hellenistic Jew as well as Paul, and his
contemporary, also using the word, sXoca.rptov not to denote
the mercy seat, but in such a manner that it can only be
rendered atonement; and when Chrysostom uses it as a' "M Richaelis says (Marsh's Mich. i. 187,) Josephus having previously observed that the blood of the martyrs had made atonement for their countrymen, and that they were warEp avrtuvXov, (victimna sunbstittlta) rrl toro EOl'Vo
acapriag (a vicstm substitlted Jbr the sin of the nation.,) continues as follows,
Kai Jta y ou atparoS EVa[jo3v EKEtlVe, KaL TOU IAAETEPIOT rou Oavrtroo atuvrwv, 
Otua povota rov IapaeX &taawo'E, (Quoted from Magee, p 134 ) The literal
English of this passage is, "' And Iby the blood of these devout men, and the
atoenement of their death, Divine providence saved Israel."




DEATH OF CHRIST.                  59
propitiatory gift;  we feel assured that Paul meant in this
passage to declare, " Whom  God hath set forth to be an
atonement —or a propitiatory sacrifice-for the remission of
sins."
Here then, without alluding to the word Av-pov, another
of the words employed to render Cid, and used with its
derivatives in no less than nine instances to point out the
design of Christ's death; without referring again to the
numerous passages, in which he is declared a sin-offering,
the appropriate design of which was to make atonement;
we find one express declaration in the Old Testament, and
four in the New, that the Death of Christ was an atone-.ment for the sins of mankind.  But we have seen that
when an animal was sacrificed to make atonement for sin,
the suffering of death was inflicted on him, or his life was
taken away, to save hin, for whose sins the atonement was
made, from the punishment of his sins, or to procure their
pardon.  The Death of Christ therefore was inflicted to
save men from the punishment of their sins or to procure
their pardon.  God " laid on him the iniquities of us all,"
or manifested his anger against our sins in his sufferings
and death, that he might not manifest it in our punishment.
His sufferings therefore were a substitute for the punishment of our sins.
6. It is said that he died' to reconcile us to God.
The reconciliation, of two individuals implies previous
enmity, or alienation in one, or in both.  It is contended,
however, that our reconciliation to God, by the death of
Christ denotes-not that God ceases to manifest his anger
towards us, but-t]hat we cease from  our enmity towards
God.  On this point the Scriptures shall speak for themselves.
X The language of Chrysostom is, IXatr7ptlov'AXatoL r7 AOva rt'Itacza.
The Greeks sent apropitiatory giJf to the Trojan Minerva."




60               DISCOURSES ON THE
In the law of the sin-offering it is said, " The blood of
the sin-offering is brought into the tabernacle of the congregation, to reconcile withal in the holy place."' But, as
the blood of the sin-offering was shed, that the sins of the
offerer might be forgiven, or that God might not manifest
his anger against him; The reconciliation here effected by
the blood, denotes —not the offerer's laying, aside his enmity, but —God's forgiving the sins of the offerer, or not
manifesting his anger against him.  The Philistines said to
Achish, "c Wherewith shall David reconcile himself (Sept.
wXchayrdsro.,  be reconciled) to his master; shall it not be
with the heads of these men?"t  As the anger was on the
side of Saul, David's being reconciled to Saul, denoted not
the laying aside of David's, but of Saul's, anger.-"- If
thou bring thy gift to the altar" says our Lord, " and there
remember that thy brother hath aught against thee; first
be reconciled to thy brother, and then come and offer thy
gift."$  As my brother is here the offended party; for me
to be reconciled to my brother, is therefore-not to lay
aside my own anger, but-to persuade my brother to lay
aside his anger, and forgive me.  Another passage from
the New Testament not only shows the meaning of the
language generally, but the precise meaning of the phrase,
to be reconciled to God: " God hath given to us the ministry of reconciliation, viz. that God is in Christ reconciling
the world unto himself, not imputing, their trespasses unto
them."[l  For God to reconcile the world unto himself is
therefore the same thing as for God not to impute their
trespasses unto them.  But what is it for God not to impute to any one his trespasses, or sins?-It does not denote, to reform  him, to sanctify him: no such use of the
W Lev. vi. 30.   I 1 Sam. xxix. 4.  $ Matt. v. 24.   ~ 2 Cor. v. 19.




DISCOURSES ON THE                    61
phrase can be found.  Its meaning is defined with exact
precision by David, " Blessed is he, whose transgression is
forgiven, whose sin is covered; blessed is the man unto
whom the Lord imputeth not iniquity."' It is therefore to
forgive his sins; in other words to remit the punishment
which they deserve."t  The phrase, God's reconciling the
world unto himself, through Jesus Christ, denotes therefore his forgiving the sins of the world through Jesus
Christ, or his remitting the p2unishment of their sins.
But do the Scriptures assert that the Death of Christ is
the means of our reconciliation to God?  They shall answer for themselves.  The Apostle to the Gentiles writes
to the Romans, " If, when we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the death of his Son; much more, being reconciled, we shall be saved by his life;" —to the
Ephesians, " Christ hath reconciled both Jews and Gentiles unto God in one body by the cross;"~-to the Corinthians, " God hath reconciled us to himself by Jesus
Christ —For he hath made him to be sin (to be a sin-offering) for us, who knew no sin, that we might be made the
righteousness of God in him:"Il-to the Colossians, "} For
it pleased the Father, having made peace by the blood of
his cross, by him to reconcile all things unto himself; and
you that were some time alienated, and enemies in your
mind by wicked works, yet now hath he reconciled in the
body of his flesh, through death, to present you holy, and
unblamable and unreprovable in his sight.~
E Ps. xxxii. 1, 2.
t Those, who wish to know how the phrase to impute trespasses or sins,
is used in the Scriptures, may examine Lev. xvii. 4; 2 Sam. xix. 19, and
Rom. v. 13; and indeed all the passages, in which it is found. It has but
one meaning.
$ Rom. v. 10.    ~ Eph. ii. 16.  jt 2 Cor. v. 1S. 21.
~[ Col. iv. 20-22. See also 1 Pet. iii. 18.
6




62                DISCOURSES ON THE
The Death of Christ is therefore the means of reconciling mankind to God; and that reconciliation consists in
God's'"not imputing their trespasses unto them;" i. e.
in his forgiving their sins, or remitting the punishment
which they deserve.
7. It is said that Christ, in his sufferings and death, bare
our sins, or iniquities.
The phrase, to bear sin, or, as it is sometimes rendered,
to take away sin, needs explanation.  In the Hebrew, we
find two different verbs, 5=o and m/,= both signifying to
bear, connected with,'zm, sin, Ni, iniquity;  and._,3
trespass or transgression.
To the phrase to bear sin, two very different meanings
have been attached: 1. That of bearing them away, in the
sense of removing them; and 2. That of bearing them as.a burden, in the sense of bearing with them, or enduring
them, on the part of him who is offended, and of bearing
or enduring their punishment, on the part of the offender,
or of a third party who takes his place, or suffers on his
account.
In investigating this point, it may be proper to ask, What
is meant by the phrase to remove our sins, or to remove
our iniquities?-Does it mean, to annihilate our sins?
That, in the very nature of things is impossible. A sin is
a fact,-a transgression actually committed:-and to annihilate a fact,-to bring it to pass, after a sin is once
committed, that it shall not have been committed, —is not
within the reach even of Omnipotence.-Does it mean to
annihilate the guilt of our sins? That is equally impossible.  As it must forever be a fact, that a given sin now
past was committed; so it must forever be a fact, that he
who committed it is guilty of its commission.  The guilt
is equally a fact with the sin itself. Does it mean, to trans



DEATH OF CHRIST.                   63
fer our sins to another?  That also is physically impossible.  A given sin when committed, is an act, past, and
irrevocable: an act, concerning which it must forever be:
true, that it was performed by the sinner himself, and not
by another. Does it mean, to transfer the guilt of our
sins to another?  This is no less an impossibility.  Guilt
is inseparably connected with sin; and as:it -never can be
true, with regard to a given sin, that any one but the sinner, committed it, so it never can be true, that any one
else is guilty of its commission.  Will it be said that it
denotes to remove our sinfulness?  I ask again, What is
the meaning of the phrase, to- remove our sinfulness? Does
sinfulness here mean guilt?  But to remove the guilt of
sin, we have just seen is impossible.  Does it mean, to remove our sinful dispositions?-our propensities to sin?
and thus to reform  us, or sanctify us?  After a careful
examination, I have not been able to find a passage in the
sacred volume, in which either of the verbs translated, to
bear, is connected with a word, the appropriate or customary meaning of which is sinfulness, sinful dispositions, or
propensities to sin:-not a passage -in which it is not connected with  sin, or transgression, as a fact, an act committed; or -with iniquity, as guilt actually incurred by
such an act.  To explain it by the phrase, to remove our
sins, in the sense. of removing our sinful inclinations, is
therefore to take for granted the point in debate, and that
too in direct opposition to the uniform language of the
Scriptures; and to explain it by the phrase, to remove our
silns in the sense of causing them to cease to exist, i. e. of
annihilating them, implies as we have seen a direct absurdity.
We will now endeavor to determine the meaning of the
phraseology in question, by a reference to the passages in




64                     DISCOURSES ON THE
which it is found. The meaning of the Hebrew verb, _:~
as given by Gesenius,* is " to  bear, particularly a heavy
load;"  and  this is the  only meaning, which it has itself,
or which it has communicated to any of its derivatives.t
The  verb   b,~ according  to  G-esenius, denotes, 1. " to
lift, or raise up"9-2. "' to bear," and under this meaning,
(1.) " to bear away," as a dead body is borne, Judges xvi.
31 —(2.) " to seffer, endure;"-(3.) " to  bear the guilt
of any  one, to  suffer for it."-3. "' to take," and  under
this to take or carry away.
The word ~L.  as connected with  sin, iniquity, is used
in only two instances.   Our fathers have  sinned, and  are: Gibbs' Gesenius.
t As this is a point of consequence, I have collected all the passages, in
which the verb or its derivatives are used.
In the following seven passages the verb itself is thus translated, Gen.
xlix. 15,-" he bowed his shoulder to bear," i. e. as a btrden. Ezra vi. 4, as
a participal noun, "foundation," or that which bears or sustains the building.
Ps. cxliv. 14, rendered " strong to labour," by Gesenius, "' loaded, hence proif'ic."  Eccl. xii. 6, " and the grasshopper shall be a burden."  Is. xlvi. 4, in
two instances, " I will carry you," i. e. as a burdenz is carried. In Isaiah liii.
4, it also occurs as a verb: " Surely, DWr nNs nmpon, he hath taken away
our sicknesses, and carried our sorrows, D?>)D:Sn~nxnt. For a very acute and
satisfactory critique on this passage see Magee on Atonement, pp. 229240, N. Y. ed. in which the following points are established: I. That ~:~9n,
in the first clause denotes not griefs but sicknesses or bodily ibirmities; 2.
That, 5:srn, in the second, denotes sorrows, or torments of' the mind; and
3. That, bSa, here, as well as every where else, means, to bear as a blrdenz.
These are the only places where the verb is found except the two mentioned
in the Text.
Its derivative nouns are thus rendered; blD, 1 Kings xi. 28, " the charge,"
and in the marginal reference "' Heb. the burdeal, of the house;" Neh. iv. 17,
"tserdens;" and Ps. lxxxi. 6, " burde," —:o  1 Kings v. 15 —'that barp
butrdens;" 2 Chron. ii. 2 and 18. " to bear burdens,"-and xxxiv. 13, "bearers of bserdels;"-and Neh. iv. 10, " bearers of bzurdens;"-(-(b, " a burden,"
ini Isaiah ix. 4, and x. 27, and xiv. 25. —nr-D, " a burden," Ex. i. 11, and ii.
11, and v. 4, 5, and vi. 6, 7.-These twenty-five instances are all in which the
word occurs, except those mentioned in the text; and in each of these the
allusion is to bearing, as a burdeu, and in no one to bearing away, in the sense
of annihilating, or bringing to an end.




DEATH OF CHRIST.                     65
not, and we have borne their iniquities;* i. e. we are suffering evils inflicted on account of their iniquities, as is obvious-from the preceding verses, " Our necks are under
persecution, we labour and have no rest," &c.-The other
passage -relates to the Death of Christ, "For he shall bear
their iniquities." —  5=??      n.rni t:g   As these are the only
two passages, in which the phrase, af ~?, to bear iniquity,
is found; it is certain. both from the uniform meaning of
5:?, and from the force of the phrase in the passage first
quoted, that when Isaiah says of Christ, " He shall bear
their iniquities," the phrase denotes-not that he removed
the iniquities of men, by annihilating either their sins, or
their guilt, or their sinfulness; but-that he bare their
sins as a  burden, by enduring  sufferings inflicted on
accoutnt of them.
The word a, as connected with sin and iniquity, is
of frequent occurrence, and is applied to various classes of
individuals:
1. To the party offended; and in this application it always denotes to bear with, to forgive, to pardon, to remit
the punishment of a sin, or to refrain from manifesting displeasure on account of it:-" Yet now, if thou wilt, forgive
0(=,  aess, bear with) their sin."t  In the same sense it
is applied to the Angel, who was to go before the Israelites:' He  will not pardon (iv2T) your transgressions."~-to
Joseph;Il-to Moses and Aaron;~[ —to Samuel;*"-and
to David. tt in each, denoting, and being rendered, to
forgive, or pardon., Lam. iii. 7, comp. Jer. xxxi. 29, and Ezek. xviii. 2.   f Is. Iiii. 11.. Ex. xxxii. 22. See also the following passages in each of which it is
applied to God, and denotes to forgive; viz. Ex. xxxiv. 7; Num. xiv. 18;
Josh. xxiv. 19; Job vii. 20; Ps. xxv. 18; xxxii. I. 5; lxxxv. 2; Is. xxxiii.
24; Hos. xiv. 2; Mic. xvii. 18.
~ Ex. xxiii. 21.  11 Gen. 1. 17, in two instances.   ~ Ex. x. 17.
55 1 Sam. xv. 25.  f t 1 Sam. xxv. 28.
6*




6:6       -        DISCOURSES ON THE
But what is it to forgive a sin?  It is not to take away,
to remove the sin, or its guilt, or to cause either to cease to
exist;-That, we have seen, is physically impossible:  nor
is it to remove the sinfulness of the sinner; had Moses and
Aaron forgiven the sin of Pharaoh, it would in no degree
have implied, that he had ceased to be sinful:-it is to take
away the punishment due to it; or to endure, to bear with
the sinner, notwithstanding his sin.  Here therefore the
phrase, to bear sin, denotes-not to remove, to annihilate,
but, to bear as a burden.
2. To the offender; and, in this application, it uniformly
denotes to bear the punishment due to sin. Thus, " That
they bear not iniquity, and die."' Here, also, the phrase
to bear sin, denotes, to bear as a burden.
3. To a third party. It is thus applied
(1.) To Aaron, the priests and levites, with reference
to the iniquity of the sanctuary, of the priesthood, and of
the congregation. This subject may be thus explained.
The people had been forbidden to profane the sanctuary
by entering it in their uncleanness, under the penalty of
death.  They complained to Moses, that on this footing
they should all be consumed;t in consequence of which,
God announces to Aaron and the priests that, if through
their negligence, the sanctuary was thus profaned they
should bear the iniquity, or suffer the punishment; and
therefore directs them "' to keep the charge of the sanctuary, that there be no wrath any more upon the children of
Israel." The obvious meaning therefore is, that if any
$ Ex. xxiii. 43. See also Lev. v. 1. 17; vii. 18; xvii. 16; xix. S. 17; xx.
17. 19, 20; xxii. 9. 16; xxiv. 15; Num. v. 31; ix. 13; xiv. 13; xviii. 1. 22,
23, 32; xxx. 15; Ezech. xvi. 58; xxiii. 35. 49; xxxix. 26.; and xliv. 10. 12,
13. These twenty-eight instances are all in which the phrase occurs in this
application; and in each one it denotes, to slffer the punishment of sin.
t Numbers xvii. 12, 13, and xviii. 1.




-DEATH OF CHRIST.                 67
legal defilement should profane the sacred things, the
priests should bear the punishment, or make atonement for
such profanation.
It is also said of Aaron, with reference to the ceremonial
iniquity of the holy things, " That Aaron may bear the iniquity of the holy things which the children of Israel may
hallow in all their holy gifts." This language supposes a
defect or profanation on the part of the offerers, which
would be pardoned in consequence of the gifts being presented by Aaron and his sons in their consecrated vestments. Aaron's bearing the iniquity of the holy things
offered to God, was therefore his procuring pardon for the
iniquity of those who offered them.
(2.) To the proophet -Ezekiel.' Lie thou also on thy
right side, and lay the iniquity of the house of Israel upon
it; according to the number of the days that thou shalt lie
upon it, thou shalt bear their iniquity. For I have laid
upon thee the years of their iniquity, according to the number of the days three hundred and ninety days; so shalt
thou bear the iniquity of the house of Israel. And when
thou hast accomplished them, lie again on thy right side,
and thou shalt bear the iniquity of the house of Judah,
forty days; I have appointed a dclay for a year." While
in this posture, the prophet is directed to eat the vilest food,
and that in the least quantities, to typify to the people the
punishment which God would bring upon them  in the destruction of Jerusalem.  For Ezekiel to bear the iniquity of
the people in this manner, was therefore the same thing as,
typically, to suffer their punishment; or, by a lively type,
to represent to them the punishment which they were to
suffer.
(3.) To the goat of the sin-oqfering.' And Aaron
took the goat, which was the sin-offering for the people, and




68                    DISCOURSES  ON  THE
slew   it, and  offered  it for  sin.  And  Moses diligently
sought the goat of the sin-offering, and behold it was
burnt; and  he  said  to  the  sons of Aaron, "Wherefore
have ye not eaten the sin-offering in the holy place, seeing
it is most holy, and God hath given it you to  bear the iniquity of the  congregation, to make  atonement for them
before the Lord."' The sin-offering we have already seen
was sacrificed, that the sins of the congregation might be
forgiven, or that the congregation might not receive the
punishment of their sins.  Here also it is said to bear the
iniquity of the congregation, and to make atonement for
them.  For the goat thus sacrificed  to bear the iniquity of
the congregation, is the same thing, therefore, as for the
goat to  be  sacrificed  to procure the forgiveness of their
sins, or to take away, to remove-not their sins,-that was
a physical impossibility; but-the punishment of their sins.
(4.) To the goats offered on the great day of Atonement.
On these two goats, lots were to be cast; one lot for the Lord,
and one lot for the scape-goat, and while the goat on which
the first lot fell, was to be sacrificed, the other was kept alive
$ Lev. ix. 15, and x. 16, 17. it has been urged that, to bear the iniquity,
here refers to you, (the sons of Aaron,) and not to it, (the goat of the sin-of:
fering,) because youa is nearer than it, in the arrangement of the sentence.
The original is as follows, vrrmy    -rim'ln Ipy-nN nrte  =  In: Anns " And
he hath given it you i7n order to bear the iniquity of the congregation, inz order
to make atoznemeent for them."-This passage is precisely parallel in its constrnction with the following, nmenvm by -i   nmDvn-a~y r ri-    nn: ym N. " And
I have given it you upon the altar to make an, atonement for your souls."
Here, according to the proposed rule of construction, to make atonement
must refer to yoe, (the sons of Aaron) and not to it, (the blood of the sinoffering.), Let us then read the whole passage, " For the life of the flesh is
in the blood, and I have given it you to make an atonement for your souls;
for it is the blood, that maketh an atonzem.ent for the soul."  As therefore to
make atonement, in the latter passage, refers to it, (the blood of the sin-offering,) so does to bear the iniquity, in the former, refer to it, (the goat of the
siz-ofering,) and as additional evidence of this fact, it is said in the former
passage, " lie hath given it you to bear iniquity, to mtake atonement."



DEATH OF CHRIST.                   69
as a scape-goat, and led into the wilderness.  With regard
to the offering of these two goats the following things
deserve our notice: 1. The sins to be atoned for, on the
great clay of Atonement, were all the sins of the nation for
the preceding year.' 2. The two goats are called one
sin-offering: " Thou shalt take one ram for a burnt-offering, and two kids of the goats for a sin offering."'t  3.
The scape-goat was offered to Gocl, though not sacrificed.
" The scape-goat shall be presented alive before the Lord,
at the door of the tabernacle of the congregation."t 4.
The Atonement for the people was made by both.  "And
he shall kill the goat of the sin-offering, and sprinkle his
blood on the mercy-seat, and make atonement because of
the transgressions of the children of Israel in all their
sins."~    But the scape-goat shall be presented alive before the Lord to make an atonement with him."Il  5. The
two goats, as one sin-offering for the sins of the people,
and as mnalcing one atonement, were offered that the sins of
the people might be forgiven."~   6. Aaron was directed
to put all the iniquities, transgressions and sins of the children of Israel upon the head of the goat.  "And Aaron
shall confess over him all the iniquities of the children of
Israel, and all their transgressions in all their sins, putting
them upon the head of the goat.""  7. It is said, " the
goat shall bear u2pon him (~.~_) all their iniquities unto a
land not inhabited."tt  8. Although it is not expressly
said of the other goat, that which was sacrificed, that he
also bare the sins of the people; yet, as it is said that he
was sacrificed as a sin-offering, and to make atonement for
their sins; as it is also said in the official explanation of the
xLev. xvi. 21.    t Lev. xvi. 5.    t Lev. xvi. 29.
{ Lev. xvi. 15, 16.    II Lev. xvi. 9, 10.    ~ Lev. xvi..5. 9. 15.21. 22.
-*  Lev. xvi. 21.  ft Lev. xvi. 22.




70                DISCOURSES- ON THE
sin-offering, " God hath given you the goat of the sin-offering, to bear the iniquity of the congregation, to make
atonement for them before the Lord;"* and as it is said
that the two goats were one sin-offering, and both made
atonement for sin; it is obvious that by both, as one sinoffering, offered for the forgiveness of sins, the sins of the
congregation were borne: the suffering for these sins falling on the goat that was sacrificed; while the leading away
of the other goat, loaded with these sins, as with a burden,
only represented in a lively manner the effect of that sacrifice.  We cannot then be at a loss as to the phrase, he
shall bear the iniquities of the congregation? The language itself "c he shall bear them  upon him," shows that
they were laid on him as a burden. And what was the
effect of this offering of the two goats,-.the sacrifice of
one, and the leading away of the other, —with regard to
the " iniquities, transgressions, and sins" of the people?
Did it take away in the sense of removing or annihilating,
or transferring to another, either the sins themselves, or
the guilt of them? To do either of these was physically
impossible. Did it remove the sinfulness, the sinful propensities,-of the congregation?  The language is not
sinfulness or sinful propensities; it is "their sins and
transgressions" of the preceding year, i. e. positive acts
of sin, and not sinful propensities; and, in point of fact,
we find friom the history that their sinful propensities did
not go off with the scape-goat into the wilderness, but remained behind in all their number and all their strength.
Was it then a type of the removal, the annihilation, of the
actual sins of all Israel for one year?  If it was, it was a
type of an utter impossibility-a mere absurdity-the supposition of which implies that the wheels of duration can
L Tev. ix. 15.




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 71
roll backward, and make past moments again present.
Moses, however, has not taxed our faith with the admission
of this absurdity.  When he tells us that the two goats
were a sin-offering, and made atonement for actual sins,
and that the design of every sin offering was to bear sin,
to make atonement, and to procure the forgiveness of the
offender; he teaches us most conclusively that the goats
bare the actual sins of the people in the sense of taking
away their punishment; in- other words that God was
pleased in consequence of the sacrifice for sin (either
from regard to " the blood of bulls and of goats" merely,
or from immediate reference to A NOBLER  SACRIFICE,)
to treat the Israelites, as if the sins hand never been committed.
(5.) To one man, as enduring szfferings, infiicted for
the sins of another.
*' And your children shall wander in the wilderness forty
years, and bear your whoredoims"' i. e. endure sufferings
inflicted in consequence of them.'If he beget a son,
that hath walked in my statutes, he shall not die for the
iniquity of his father, he shall surely live." —" Yet ye say,
Doth not the son bear the iniquity of his father?"'6 The
soul that sinneth, it shall die; the son shall not bear the
iniquity of the father, neither shall the father bear the
iniquity of the son; the righteousness of the righteous
shall be upon him, and the wickedness of the wicked shall
be upon him."'   Here the prophet gives us a definition of
this language, and teaches us that, to bear iniquity, either
one's own or that of another is not, to remove, or annihilate
it, but to undergo suffering inflicted on account of it.
As the result of this inquiry it is clear, when the verb,
wt: is joined with sin, or iniquity that, as applied to the
m Num. xiv. 33.       t TEz. xviii. 14.17, 18, 19, 20.




72                DISCOURSES ON THE
party offended, it uniformly denotes, to forgive; to remit
deserved punishment, to bear with the sinner; as applied
to the offender, it uniformly denotes, to bear, or suffer the
punishment of sin; and as applied to a third party, it
denotes in all cases, to bear sin as a burden, to be responsible for it, and where suffering is actually endured,* to endure suffering as an infliction for that sin.
When therefore Isaiah tells us, that Christ in his crucifixion "bare (at) the sins of many;"t we are sure that
he means just what he meant in the preceding verse —" he
shall bear (~:?) their iniquities;" i. e.-not, he shall bear
them away, in the sense of removing them, or annihilating
them; but-he shall bear them as a 5a_:  a burden, he shall
endure sufferings inflicted on account of those sins. And
when he also tells us, " It pleased Jehovah to bruise him;"
"' Jehovah hath laid on him the iniquity of us all;",, And
with his stripes we are healed;" we cannot but see that, on
account of our sins, God inflicted those sufferings on Christ
that we ourselves might be exempted from  their punishment.
To bear sin, in the New Testament has precisely the
same meaning; and the sacred writers employ those Greek
verbs to express this idea, which the translators of the Septuagint had before employed to render }_ and?az. They
uniformly apply this language to Christ as a sufferer, as
d7ing on the Cross for our sins; and never as a teacher,
or as an example.  "' Who his own self bare our sins in
his own body, on the tree."t The Apostle, by here using
avocmspw, to bear, the identical word employed in the Septuagint to translate both 5=? and =]n in Isaiah liii. 11, and
12; and by adding,'" by whose stripes ye were healed;"
* Where not actually endured, it was endured typically.
1 Is. liii. 12.              f 1 Pet. ii. 24.




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 73
shows us that he only quotes the prophet, and uses the
phraseology in a similar manner. Paul employs the same
language: —" So Christ was once offered, to bear(avsvsyxeiv)
the sins of many;" which, only changing the future tense
to the past, is a translation of -Isaiah liii. 11,' And he
shall bear,".F acvoras, "the sins of many."
John the Baptist uses similar language in announcing
Jesus as the Saviour of mankind: "Behold the Lamb of,God, who taketh away,,lpwv, Marg. Ref. " beareth," the
sin of the world."'  The verb,,pw, as connected with,rv.aparctav, is in every instance except this, both in the Septuagint and the New Testament, applied to the party offended, and denotes to forgive sin, to bear with the sinner.
Here it is applied to Christ in his mediation for the world.
That it denotes-not to remove the sinfulness, the sinful
propensities of the world, but-to bear, i. e. suffer for the
sins of the world in order that those sins might be forgiven,
will be obvious from the following considerations. 1. The
similar verbs sEaipw and aqgapaw, in the Septuagint, when
thus connected, denote to make atonement for, i. e. to
procuire the forgiveness of, sin.  2. Christ is here said to
take away sin as a Lamb, and not as an Example, or an
Instructer. 3. Isaiah, from whom the epithet as applied
to Christ is borrowed, when he says, "- He is brought as a
lamb to the slaughter," takes care to introduce it with "' The
Lord hath laid on him the iniquity of us all;" and to subjoin, " He shall bear the iniquities of many;" and again
"' He bare the sin of many." 4. The evangelist John, who
records this annunciation, calls Christ the lamb slain, and
the lamb, whose blood had redeemed men to God out of
every kindred, and nation, and people and tongue.  5.
The same evangelist tells us that Christ is "an Atonement,
* John i. 29.
7




74               DISCOURSES ON THE
ixaSog, for the sins of the whole world."  These considerations fully prove that the phraseology has here the same
meaning, as in every part of the Old Testament, and in
every other part of the New; and that the Lamb takes
away the sin of the world, not as a teacher, but as the
ixac~og for our sins.
8. We are said to be redeemed and ransomed by the
death of Christ.
To redeem, and to ransom, are used interchangeably to
translate the same words from the Hebrew and the Greek,
and convey the idea of deliverance from evil: of a deliverance effected by some species of loss or sacrifice sustained
on the part of the deliverer; which is accepted as an equivalent for the evil, from which the person redeemed is
delivered.  The Scriptures speak of the redemption of
land from mortgages, of a slave from bondage, and of
property from a vow, all by the payment of money; and
of the first-born of men and of unclean beasts from sacrifice, by a substituted sacrifice. They also speak of redemption from iniquity, from death, from the grave and
from the punishment of sin.
This language is applied to Christ in a manner which it
is not easy to mistake. He says of himself, " Even so the
Son of Man came-to give his life, a ransom for many."
It has been contended that the ransom here spoken of is a
ransom from the power, and not from the punishment, of
sin. Salvation from the power of sin, is regarded by those
who receive the doctrine of an Atonement, not only as a
part of the salvation effeoted by Christ, but as a part so
essential, that without it no salvation could exist. The
question in this case is not, therefore, Whether Christ came
to deliver his people from the power of sin;-that is admitted on all hands;-but, Whether he died to save them




DEATH OF CHRIST.                  T5
from the punishment of sin.  When therefore we find him
saying that he came "' to give his life, a ransom for many,"
we turn to another passage in which he himself interprets
this language: "6 This is my blood of the New Testament,'",zCowxc,  liispensation) which is shed for many, for the
forgiveness of sins."  But to forgive sin, on the part of
God, we have seen is to 7remit meritedpunisihm.ent. Christ
then being his own interpreter; he gave his life as a ran.
som for many to deliver them from the punishment to which
they were doomed. Paul, in two of his epistles, speaking
of the Death of Christ, explains this language in a manner
equally unequivocal: "In whom  we have redemption
through his blood, even the forgiveness of sins."* The redemption which Christ's blood accomplished for us was,
therefore, the forgiveness of our sins, i. e. exemption from
their punishment.  In another passage, his language is if
possible still more incapable of being misunderstood:
"Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law,
being made a curse for us; for it is written, Cursed is
every one who hangeth on a tree."9t  The curse of the law
is not the transgression of the law.  The law does not
say in pronouncing its curse on the sinner, If you transgress once, you shall continue to transgress.  No law was
ever written in this manner. It says, 6' The soul that sinneth, it shall die." The curse of the law is its penalty,
the punishment which it threatens to inflict on the transgressor.  The evil then from which Christ is here said to
redeem us, is that manifestation of the anger of God to
which we were doomed by the condemning sentence of his
law. But when did he thus redeem us?-The Apostle
replies, When he died on the tree.-And in what way?I- e again answers, By being made a curse for us: i. e.
* Eph. i. 7. and Col. i. 14.     t Gal. iii. 13.




76               DISCOURSES ON  tRiE
by enduring sufferings and death, as an infliction for our
sins.  But how came  he to be nailed to the tree?  The
whole company of the Apostles inform us that he was
delivered by the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of
God; and from Isaiah we learn that "6 it pleased Jehovah
to bruise him, and put him to grief;" and that 6 Jehovah
laid on him the iniquities of us all."  It was Jehovah then
who inflicted upon him sufferings and death as a curse,
that we might be redeemed from the curse of the law, the
punishment to which we were doomed in consequence of
our sins. If then Christ had not been made a curse for
us, we must have endured the punishment due to our sins.
His sufferings were-therefore in the stead of the punish-.
ment of our sins.
Various other forms of expression, all of the same general import, are adopted by the scriptural writers to point
out the end accomplished by the death of Christ; and of
these I can mention only one. a, But God commendeth his
love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners, Christ
died for us. Much more then being now justified by his
blood, we shall be saved from wrath through him."  To
justify, as a legal phrase, is the opposite of to convict, or
to condemn. Under a dispensation of law, it denotes, to
pronounce innocent; and under a dispensation of grace,
to pronounce not liable to punishment.  In this passage
therefore the apostle declares that the death of Christ is
the means of exempting us from punishment; and then
repeats the idea in different language by asserting, that by
his blood we are saved from the zrath of God.
The length and minuteness of this part of the inquiry
perhaps deserve an apology. The design has been to settle the meaning of each of the principal forms of expression adopted by the sacred writers to point out the end




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 77
actually accomplished by the death of Christ. The evidence adduced in each case has been wholly from the
Scriptures themselves; and if I am not deceived, it has
been proved that those numerous forms of expression have
one uniform  meaning, concerning which even "' the wayfaring man" need not err.
TgESE are some of the facts, recorded in the Scriptures
as connected with the death of Christ; and some of the
forms of phraseology, by which they point out why this remarkable event took place. Having detailed the former,
and recited and explained the latter, in the manner originally proposed; it remains in the third place, to inquire,
How far the various theories devised to account for his
death are consistent with both? These, you may recollect,
are reducible to two classes: those which deny, and those
which admit, that his death was an atonement for the sins
of the world.  Of the former class there are no less than
six, to' which I now propose to direct your attention. Each
of these, we will compare both with the facts, and with the
forms of phraseology in which the event is explained; and
when this has been done, we will subject the theory, which
regards it as an Atonement, to a similar scrutiny.
Before we commence this examination, in the progress
of which we shall attempt to answer the question, What
was the Gareat End accomplished by the Death of Christ?
— it may not be improper to make the following remarks.
1. Several ends are often accomplished by a single
event.
2. Of two or more ends accomplished by a single event,
one may be the chief end of that event; and the others




78                DISCOURSES ON TiHE
only subordinate ends. Thus, to give light to living creatures was the chief end of the creation of light; while,
to paint the clouds, or the rain-bow, was only a subordinate
end.
3. An end accomplished by a given event may be merely incidental; necessarily growing out of the existing circumstances of the case, but being in no respect the great
end, the final cause, for which the event took place.
Thus: it was necessary that Christ should die; and it was
also necessary that he should be raised from the dead.
But, to rise from the dead, is a miracle; and a miracle furnishes evidence that the instructions of him who works it
are true, and his mission divine.  Christ's resurrection
therefore, like every other miracle, furnished this evidence.
Yet, as " it was not possible, that the Son of God should be
holden of death" for thousands of years, his resurrection
necessarily grew out of his death, and the evidence thus
furnished necessarily grew out of his resurrection. This
evidence was therefore an incidental end accompanied by
his death-necessarily growing out of the circumstances
attending it.  The fact that his death furnishes the evidence in question, is no proof, then, that to furnish evidence was the great end of his death.  But our present
inquiry is not, Whether a given end was actually accomplished by his death?  That numerous ends were accomplished by it, is certain.  Our inquiry is, What was the
Great End of Christ's Death-that which made it absolutely necessary; that which rendered it so surprising, so
interesting an event, both on earth and in heaven.
The various explanations of this event, which deny that
it was an Atonement for the sins of the world, will now be
examined.
I. It is said that the Great End of Christ's Death was,
to prove his Sincerity.




.DEATH OF CIRIST.-               79
That the death of every martyr, and that of Christ as
truly as that of every other, does prove him to have been
sincerely devoted to the cause for which he died, is unquestionable.  Still, if I mistake not, this scheme is attended with insurmountable objections.
1. The Scriptures no where mention this, as the great
end of his Death.
2. He might have proved his sincerity without dying.
Abraham did this; and so did Moses, and Elijah. Who
doubts the sincerity of John?  Who, that now believes in
the sincerity of Christ, would have doubted it, if he had
not suffered a violent death? It is but a poor respect that
we pay to the character of the Son of G-od, to say that he
could not establish a reputation for sincerity without being
crucified.
3. To go of- set purpose and devote one's self to death,
when one can avoid it, merely to prove one's sincerity; is
at the best an act of very doubtful morality.  To die as a
martyr, a witness to the truth of God, when his enemies
have us in their power, and will put us to death if we do
not renounce it, —is one thing; but voluntarily to place
ourselves in their power when we certainly know that they
will put us to death, merely to gain a reputation for sincerity,-is another.  Paul, when Aretas, King of Damascus, sought to put him to death as a Christian, instead of
voluntarily suffering death to prove his sincerity, took care
to be let down through a window in a basket, and so eseaped from his hands. Again; when forty -men had bound
themselves by oath, that they would not eat nor drink until
they had killed Paul, this zealous apostle, instead of embracing so fair an opportunity of proving his sincerity, sent
his nephew to Claudius Lysias the Roman Governor, for a
powerful body-guard to resist them, and conduct him  in




80               DISCOURSES ON THE
safety to Cesarea.  Christ, too, at an earlier period of his
ministry, " walked in Galilee; for he would not walk in
Jewry, because the Jews sought to kill him." Often also
he escaped from his enemies, when they were bent on putting him to death, because his hour was not yet come, although his death would have furnished as much evidence
of his sincerity, as at the time when it actually occurred.
4. On this scheme, Christ's, death was altogether premature and untimely. If he could not sufficiently establish a
reputation for sincerity, by a ministry of three years and a
half, he should have lived thirty or forty years longer. In
that lapse of time he doubtless might have succeeded; or
if not, he might at least have blessed mankind with his instructions, his example and his miracles; and then if it had
been necessary, might have devoted himself to death.
5. Why, in this case, is the death of Christ represented
as an event of so much importance? What possible explanation can we give of the scene on Mount Tabor?  The
well known rule of Horace,
" Nec Deus intersit, nisi Dignus vindice nodus
Inciderit —
" Let not the Deity interpose, unless the occasion is one
which demands his interposition," is as sound a rule of
common sense in the events of Providence, as in the plan
of a dramatic poem. Why then does Jehovah descend
from heaven, with Moses and Elijah, to meet Jesus and the
three disciples on the holy mount?-To converse with him
about the mode in which he was to prove his sincerity?Why too that change in the worship of the upper world?
Did the countless myriads of angels forget all the other
glories of Jehovah, and commence a new song that is to be
sung forever and ever, because Jesus had furnished evidence to mankind that he was sincere; and are the words




DEATH OF CHRIST.                81'
of the song, in which the redeemed respond to the angelic
choir,'" Thou art worthy, for thou wast slain, and hast redeemed us to God by proving thy sincerity?"  Had Paul
no other subject of preaching, that he could declare " I am
determined to know nothing among you, but the fact that
Jesus Christ has proved his sincerity?"-Was there nothing in heaven, or in God, to glory in, that he could say,
"' God forbid that I should glory save in the evidence of the
sincerity of Christ;" or did he indeed tell the Galatians,
" Christ hath redeemed us from the curse of the law by
dying to prove his sincerity?"
6. How in this way shall we satisfactorily explain the
circumstances of his death? Had he so little firmness, that
the mere dread of bodily suffering would lead him not only
to fall three times prostrate with his face to the earth, and
to cry out with inconceivable amazement and anguish of
mind,' 0) my Father, if it be possible, let me not die to
prove my sincerity?"  Why too that travail of the soul,
that offering of the soul a sacrifice, that bruising from Jehovah, that overwhelming agony which caused his sweat to
become as it were great drops of blood? Why that horror
of deep darkness which forced from him the expiring cry,
"My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken me?"-Did
Jehovah forsake him, because he was proving his sincerity?-Why too that sympathy of the surrounding Universe,
as he bowed his head, and gave up the ghost?  If a stranger had been at Jerusalem, at that Passover, and, seeing
the singular and melancholy procession moving onward to
Calvary, had followed Jesus thither; and as he expired had
witnessed the darkness, and the earthquake, and the rending rocks, and the opening graves, and had asked one of
the many dead who came forth, "' What mean these convulsions of nature! Why does yonder sun veil his face in




82.DISCOURSES ON THE
sackcloth? WVhy do these solid pillars tremble, and give
way?  Why are the slumbers of the tomb disturbed; and
what has called you forth from your silent mansions?"would the answer have been-" The son of Joseph and
Mary is dying, to prove his sincerity?"
7. This theory contravenes the whole language of Scripture. Christ, when he explains the design of his own
death in the Eucharist, tells us " This is my blood, which
is shed," not to prove that I am sincere; but-" for the
remission of sins."  No sophistry can make Christ's dying
to prove his sincerity, the same thing with his bearing our
sins in his own body on the tree, with his being made a
sin-offering for us, with his giving himself a ransom for us,
with his redeeming us from the curse of the law by being
made a curse for us, and with our having redemption
through his blood, even the forgiveness of our sins.
8. If this theory be true, all the martyrs deserve the title
of Redeemers, Saviours and Mediators, as truly as Christ;
for they proved their sincerity as fully, and in the same
manner. Is it then true that Paul died for us; that he
died for our sins; that he died for the forgiveness of our
sins; that he "became a sin-offering for us;" that his
death was an atonement for our sins; that he bare our sins
in his own body on the tree; that he hath redeemed us
from the curse of the law, being made a curse for us; and
that by his death we are reconciled to God? Do the
Scriptures say this of Paul?-But why not?-The death
of Jesus merely proved his sincerity, and the death of
Paul proved his; and both were preachers of the same
Gospel. If then the phrases, bearing our sins, being made
a curse for us, and others like them, when applied to Christ,
mean nothing but his dying to prove his sincerity; they are
just as applicable to any other martyr, as to Jesus; and




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 83
Paul is, in the same sense of the word with Jesus, the
Saviour of the world, and the Redeemer of mankind.
Then too we may lawfully say, " I am determined to know
nothing among you save Paul and him crucified."  "6 We
preach Paul crucified, unto the Jews a stumbling-block and
unto the Greeks foolishness, but unto them who are saved
the power of God."
II. It is said to have been the Great End of Christ's
death, to set us an -Example of _Fortitude.
To this theory there are several invincible objections.
1. Though the patience of Christ under sufferings is
frequently mentioned in the Scriptures, and mentioned as
an example for our imitation; yet it is no where spoken of
as the great end of his death.
2. If this was the great end of his sufferings, why did
he die so early after his ministry began? If the world
could safely wait more than four thousand years for such
an example, it might well have waited a few years more.
Why then was not his life prolonged, and he permitted to
instruct and bless mankind for forty years instead of three
and a half?  He could have exhibited as much fortitude
at the age of seventy as at the age of thirty-five;-and in
addition to this, he might have completed and published
the New Testament, established the christian church, and
witnessed the triumphs of his religion. Why, too, if he must
die at this early age, did he begin his ministry so late in
life; why not be baptized at twenty-one instead of thirtyone? It was not owing to any immaturity of knowledge,
or wisdom; for at the age of twelve he was able to confound the whole body of the rabbis in the temple.  Why
then were these precious ten years spent by him in working
under his supposed father Joseph, at the trade of a car



84               DISCOURSES ON THE
penter, in tile obscure village of Nazareth, instead of being
occupied in healing, and enlightening, and reforming mankind?
3. The lawfulness of devoting one's self to death, merely
to set an example of fortitude, is at the best exceedingly
doubtful.  The savages of the west, indeed, sometimes do
this; but a Christian with the scriptures before him may
fairly question the propriety of the conduct. Is it lawful
for me to leap into a furnace, in order to shew how well I
can endure pain?  If John Rogers had thrown himself on
the burning faggots to prove his fortitude, would he not
have been a suicide rather than a martyr? But Christ's
death was voluntary and deliberate. lIe went purposely
to Jerusalem to die; he also remained there to die; and he
said to Judas as he went out to betray him, "' What thou
doest, do quickly."
4. The fortitude of Christ, viewed as an example for our
imitation, is not perfectly appropriate. If Christ was a
super-angelic being, it can scarcely be regarded as an example at all. The desponding christian, whom you should
urge to copy it, might well reply, 1" True, the Saviour submitted to his sufferings with fortitude and resignation; and
well he might, for he was a super-angelic being, and had
inconceivable energy and resolution. Give me the same;
nay give me even those of an angel; let me also have been
in heaven, and know as well what heaven is, and that it is
my home; let me have the full assurance of the love of
God; and let me know that at the close of this short life
I shall ascend to pre-eminent honour and glory; and I too
will bear any affliction without a murmur."
If Christ was a mere man, still there were several important points of difference between him and other men.
He was without sin; the Spirit was given him without




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 85
mleasure; he had peculiar intelligence, wisdom, and energy
of character; in him dwelt all the fulness of the Godhead
bodily; he was pre-eminently the object of the Father's
love; he could look to him for support and strength under
every trial; and he was soon to set down with him on his
throne on high.  If then some one was to die to set an example of fortitude, which we could fairly be called on to
imitate, it should not have been one of a character and in
circumstances so perfectly unlike ours, it should have been
a man in all respects like ourselves. If you urge the christian, who is sinking under his sufferings, to imitate the example of Jesus, he may well answer you, "' True indeed
he set an illustrious example of patience and resignation
under suffering; but then he had great helps which I have
not.  Give me the same support, let me also be without
sin, give me the Spirit without measure, endow me with
his strength of understanding, shed abroad upon me such
a measure of the Father's love, furnish me with the same
divine support, let all the fulness of the Godhead dwell in
me bodily, and let me have the same glorious prospects,
and I will imitate his example, and will sustain with filial
resignation every trial which God in his providence calls
me to endure."'
5. Why on this supposition, was there this imperative necessity of Christ's death:-a necessity so stern and inflexible, that the thrice repeated' prostration in the garden,
accompanied by the thrice repeated prayer,  "0 my
Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me!" and
followed by the agony and the sweat of blood, could not
bend it:-a necessity so absolute, that, unless the death of
Christ took place, the wheels of providence must stop, and
the gracious purposes of God towards man all be defeated.
Is a single example of fortitude the great hinge of the gov8




86               DISCOURSES ON THE
ernment of Jehovah. Is want of fortitude the heaven-provoking sin of man, and that so exclusively that all the sins
forbidden in the decalogue, and all those enumerated in the
18th of Leviticus and the 1st of Romans need no attention
and no reformation.
But why must this example be exhibited by Christ; why
must a being who is perfectly innocent and holy suffer?
Is fortitude so rare a virtue on earth, that none but he
could possibly exhibit it? Could not one, who as a sinner
deserved death, if he had afterwards become holy, especially if strengthened by God to endure the afflictions
laid upon him;-could not such an one as Paul furnish an
adequate example of fortitude to weak timid man, without
that scene of horror, at sight of which,
" The fainting sun grew dim at noon?"
Let the Apostle speak for himself:' Are they ministers of
Christ?-I speak as a fool-I am  more: in labours more
abundant, in stripes above measure, in prisons more frequent, in deaths oft.  Of the Jews five times received I
forty stripes save one. Thrice was I beaten with rods,
once was I stoned, thrice I suffered shipwreck, a night and
a day I have been in the deep; in journeyings often, in
perils of waters, in perils of robbers, in perils by mine own
countrymen, in perils by the heathen, in perils in the city,
in perils in the wilderness, in perils in the sea, in perils
among false brethren, in weariness and painfulness, in
watching often, in hunger and thirst, in fastings often, in
cold and nakedness." " Most gladly will I glory in my
infirmities that the power of Christ may rest on me. Therefore I take pleasure in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses for Christ's sake; for
when I am weak, then am I strong."  Again; twhen Aga



DEAT1H OP CHRIST.               87
bus foretold his sufferings if he went to Jerusalem, and his
surrounding friends besought him with tears not to go, he.replied, "c What mean ye 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." This, too, was
not a childish empty boast, an overweening confidence in
his own resolution: —he proved that he possessed it all,
when put to the final trial. Are the sufferings then which
mankind are called to endure, so much more severe than
those of Paul; and was his resolution and that of all the
other martyrs so defective as an example; that nothing
would arm our flinching race with the needed nerve and
energy, but the agony and crucifixion of the Son of God?
6. If the sufferings of Christ were merely his bodily
sufferings, i. e. if they were not a manifestation of the
anger of God for the sins of men, and thus a substitute
for the curse of the law denounced against mankind; the
examples of fortitude set by the Maccabees and Stephen,
by Peter, Paul and Polycarp, by John Rogers and Latimer, were at least as perfect as that set by Christ.  To
satisfy you of this fact, I will recite an example.  When
Antiochus Epiphanes had conquered Syria, he carried the
family of the Maccabees to Antioch; and, because they
would not embrace idolatry, ordered them all to be tortured
to death.  Maccabeus, the eldest, was first stretched on
the rack, and severely beaten; then fastened to a wheel
and weights hung to his feet until his sinews cracked; then
thrown into a fire till he was dreadfully burned; then
drawn out, his tongue cut out and himself put into a
frying-pan with a slow fire under it until he died. As long
as he had life, he fervently called on God under these exquisite torments, and exhorted his brothers to a similar
perseverance. His six brothers, and  after them, his




8 DCSOUlRStS ON T'gI
mother Salamlona, who had previously witnessed the maXr
tyrdomr of her seveun sons, were subjected to equally excruciating deaths.
When these and thousands of others came to the very
time and place of their martyrdom, and saw the instruaments of torture and death all prepared; the immediate
prospect of their sufferings occasioned no overwhelming
agony; no angel came down from heaven to comfort them;'and neither of them cried out three times, as he prostrated
himself to the earth, "' If it be possible, let this cap pass
from me."  On the contrary, they went to the rack, the
cross, and the furnace even, with alacrity, and until their
last breath, rejoiced in the presence and the love of God.
This, too, was the fact, when they had none of the peculiar
supports by which he was sustained, and when thley had no
assurance of being raised from the dead on the third clay.
According to a very different theory, it will be no difficult task, at the proper time, not only to explain the otherwise inexplicable scenes of Gethsemane and Calvary, but to
show that the conduct of our Lord, while suffering for a
condemned world, was a most illustrious example of patience and resignation, —anl example, which we, according
to our measure, and under our inconceivable inferior sufferings, may well be called on to imitate. But, on the
given supposition, that all he endured was crucifixion, and
that the great end of his death was to set an example of
fortitude; I should be constrained to regard the actual
result on his part, compared with that of other martyrs
under far more severe and protracted agonies, as scarcely
less than an absolute failure.
T. On this supposition why is the death of Christ an
event of such inconceivable importance.  He was not only
4" delivered up to die, by the determinate counsel and fore




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 89
knowledge of God," but his death has a pre-eminence
given to it both in the Old and New Testament, which no
no other event can claim. We have seen that it was the
continual subject of prophesy. Was then the consolation
given to our first parents to sustain them under their ruin
merely this, that, after the lapse of four thousand years,
the seed of the woman should bruise the head of the serpent, by setting an example of fortitude? Were impatience and timidity the curse under which the whole creation was so long to groan and travail together in pain; and
was " the desire of all nations" at length to redeem them
from this " curse of the law" by teaching them to endure
bodily suffering.  Was this the reason why the blood of
Jesus " speaketh better things than the blood of Abel,"
that Abel, being killed outright, and not dying a lingering
death, had no opportunity to show his fortitude. For this,
did " Abraham desire to see his day;" and was this " what
kings and prophets waited for, and sought but never
found?"  When Isaiah, at the distance of seven long centuries, saw from the mount of vision the spectacle on Calvary with so much distinctness, that in portraying the
scene, he has not only thrown on the middle of the canvass
the Man of Sorrows nailed to the cross between two malefactors, but on one side the very procession from the judgment-hall of Pilate to the top of the hill, and on the other
the new sepulchre of Joseph hewn out of a rock in which
he was buried; —could he so far mistake the grand design
for which he suffered as to tell us that he was " smitten of
God," that "' the Lord laid on him the iniquity of us all,"
that " for the transgression of the people he was stricken,"
that  it pleased Jehovah to bruise him, and to put him to
grief," that "he made his soul an offering for sin," and
that it was the " travail of his soul" of which he died.




90               DISCOURSES ON THE
Can the Spirit of prophesy as he' opened the curtain of
futurity-to the gazing prophet, have been so correct in presenting the scene itself, and yet so erroneous in stating the
great end for' which it was exhibited.
As the Spirit of Christ, which was in the prophets, revealed to them, with greater and yet greater clearness the
sufferings of Christ and the glory which should follow, was
an example of fortitude so grand a desideratum  in the
empire of God, that, before it was actually set, the angels,
forgetting their wonted praises, could bend over in mute
contemplation to look into that far distant manifestation of
it which revolving centuries would at length unfold.  Is
suffering the chief business of heaven, of angels as well as
saints, that they are interested in nothing but in learning
how they may endure-it.  Was an example of fortitude so
much the all in all in the view of " Him, who sitteth on the
throne, that that strange council of heaven and of earth
must be held on the holy mount,. to prepare him who was
to set it for the mighty achievement?  Was' it for this,
that his face did shine as the sun, and his raiment was
white as the light, and the voice came forth from the cloud
of glory, "This is my beloved Son, in whom  I am well
pleased? "   Is an exhibition of fortitude so absolutely
instar omnium, in this broad Universe, that when made
on Calvary, the choir of ten thousand times ten thousands,
moved by one instinctive impulse, could turn their eyes
away from the Uncreated Glory, and commence their new
song of praise to him who made it, which is to continue
forever and ever. Is this that display of matchless love,
which kindles the raptures of eternity; and do the words
of their anthem read, "1 Unto him that'hath loved us-and
set us an example of fortitude!-unto him be glory and
dominion for ever and ever, Amen 9"



DEATH OF CHRIST.                  91
8. On this supposition how shall we explain the incidents
connected with the death of Christ.
Was the Sacramental Supper instituted to inspire us
with fortitude; is it an exhibition of that virtue chiefly
which we commemorate when we eat the bread and drink
the wine in remembrance of Christ; and did Christ say to
his disciples that same night in whlich he was betrayed,
" This cup is the New Testament in my blood, which is
shed-to set an example of fortitude."  Was the mere
death of the cross so immeasurably dreadful that, although
it had been predicted for thousands of years that he should
suffer it; although, if a super-angelic being, he came from
heaven to suffer it; although, if a mere man, he had had
the suffering in full view all his life; although he -was prepared for it by the surprising interview on Mount Tabor;
~and although he went from  Galilee to Jerusalem  on purpose to die;-yet was it still so dreadful even in the anticipation, that although he was to die on purpose to set an
example of fortitude, and he knew that all heaven was
waiting in speechless expectation to see the long-hoped for
achievement done-did he still, through the mere dread of
bodily suffering, thrice cry out in low prostration, and with
impassioned earnestness, "0  my Father, if it be possible,
-let me not die, to exhibit an example of fortitude ~"-and
while his agony caused the sweat of blood to flow to the
groundl did he need an angel from heaven to comfort him,
because he must set such an example?
When he was nailed to the cross, did God forsake him
because he was bringing to pass that very consummation
which God himself so much desired, and which heaven and
earth for four thousand years had heaved with throes unut-terable to see accomplished.  But after the whole creation
had thus waited in mute anxiety for this divinely appointed




92               DISCOURSES ON THE
manifestation; yet, when it was actually made on Calvary,
was the scene so beyond conception dreadful, that the sun,
unable to endure the sight, must wrap himself in funereal
darkness, that the firm earth must quake, the solid rocks
burst asunder, and even the slumberers under ground leap
forth from  their dark recesses.  "' 0 scene!"-the poet
well might say"  scene, surpassing wonder!"
9. On this supposition what shall we make of the lan.
guage of the Bible.  Would they who adopt it, only make
that language conform to their scheme, it must strike them
as new and surprising. For instance, had Christ in fact
said to Nicodemus, " as Moses lifted up the serpent in the
wilderness, even so must the Son of man be lifted up to set
an example of fortitude, that whosoever imitates that example might not perish, but might have everlasting life;" even
he who was 1" a master in Israel," might have been excused
for not knowing these things.  And what meaning would
there be in the language, " Herein is love: not that we
loved God, but that he loved us and sent his Son to set us
an example of fortitude?"  Was timidity, or impatience
under suffering, the great reason why men were the enemies of God, and fortitude the great means of our reconciliation, that Paul could write to the Romans,-"- If, when
we were enemies, we were reconciled to God by the example of fortitude set by his Son, much more, being reconciled, we shall be saved by his life." Is fortitude so far
superior to faith, and hope, and love, that Paul could write
to the Corinthians, " I am determined to know nothing
among you save Jesus Christ, and the fortitude which he
exhibited on the cross;"-and again —" We preach the
fortitude of Christ crucified, unto the Jews a stumbling



DEATH OF CHRIST.                    93
block, and unto the Greeks foolishness, but unto them who
are saved, the power of God?"  HIad he written thus, and
had he added, " God forbid that I should glory save in the
fortitude of our Lord Jesus Christ;" it might have been said
with emphasis that "' in his epistles there were many things
hard to be understood."
III. It is said that the Great End of Christ's death was
to pevfect his obedience.
This language has probably been borrowed from  two
passages in the Epistle to the Hebrews; in one of which
it is said, that'" it became him, for whom  are all things,
and by whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto
glory, to make the Captain of their salvation perfect
through sufferings;"' and in the other, that Christ, "' being
made perfect, became the author of eternal salvation to all
them that believe."t  Of this phraseology, different individuals may give very different interpretations.
1. It may be supposed to refer to the state, or condition,
to which Christ was advanced subsequently to, and in part
at least as a consequence of, his sufferings. In that case,
it merely denotes that, as the reward of his sufferings, he
was advanced to a state of perfect happiness and glory.t
But if this be the true interpretation, neither of the passages refers to the great end accomplished by the death of
Christ for the good of mankind; but both, to his own
reward-to " the joy set before him for which he endured
the cross."
2. It may denote that Christ could not become the
a Heb. ii. 10.                t Heb. v. 9.: See WVahl's Lex Gr Test. on TEXntoWe. Wahl regards this as the true
meaning; and if it be not, of which there may be a doubt, at least with regard to the passage from Heb. ii. 10, the true one, is unquestionably the
second which I have suggested.




94               DISCOURSES ON THE
Saviour of mankind, without suffering in their stead; and
that he was rendered perfect as their Saviour, by actually
enduring the sufferings necessary on his part as a substitute
for their punishment.  In this case, it is a direct assertion
of the doctrine of the Atonement.
3. It may be supposed to denote, that the sufferings
which Christ endured were necessary to render his personal obedience, and generally his holiness, perfect.  But
this is directly inconsistent with the supposition, that Christ
was uniformly and always a perfectly holy being. Uniformly
perfect holiness implies uniformly perfect obedience, and
sufferings cannot be necessary to render it more perfect.
As the angels need no sufferings to render their obedience
and holiness perfect, so certainly Christ needed none. The
testimony of God on this subject we have seen is absolutely
decisive. Will it be said that his death was necessary to
render his obedience perfect, under the dispensation to
which he was actually subjected? But the question is,
Why was the Son of God, when his obedience was already
perfect, placed under such a dispensation? in other words,
Why must a perfectly holy being suffer at all?
4. This phraseology has received a still different explanation. It is said that Christ's sufferings and death as an
exhibition of obedience, were a powerful means of improving our virtue; and were so acceptable to God, that on
account of them he has granted to mankind the forgiveness
of sins that are past, and has also erected a glorious system of grace.*
Those who receive the doctrine of the Atonement, insist
X This is the scheme of Dr. Taylor of Norwich, the author of the Hebrew
Concordance. If the reader is disposed to complain of the obscurity of the
language, in which it is here stated, he is referred to the work itself, with
the request that he will state it in language less obscure.




DEATH OF CHRIST.                    95
as truly as others, that the perfect obedience or holiness of
Christ was indispensably necessary to render his death efficacious as an expiatory sacrifice; in other words that his
sufferings would have been of no efficacy, if he had not
been a perfectly holy being. But when it is said, that his
sufferings were designed-not as a substitute for our punishment, but merely-as an exhibition of obedience; and as
such were intended to be a powerful means of improving our
virtue; we are compelled to suggest the following objections.
1. The sufferings of Christ on this scheme were absolutely unnecessary.
So far as positive duties were concerned, Christ's perfect
obedience consisted in his perfect performance of all that
were prescribed; and so far as sufferings were concerned,
in his voluntary sinless submission to all that were inflicted.
When it is said that "he became obedient unto death, even
the death of the cross," it obviously denotes merely that he
voluntarily submitted to death.  His submission, therefore,
so far as his sufferings were concerned constituted his whole
obedience.  But submission to sufferings is the same thing,
as bearing them without complaint or murmuring.  When,
therefore, it is said that Christ submitted to sufferings to
make an exhibition of obedience, it is the same thing as to
say, that he submitted to sufferings to make an exhibition
of submission; in other words-to show how well he could
bear them.
We will then view his sufferings as ordained of God; as
consented to, and endured by himself; and as affecting the
character and condition of mankind. As ordained of God,
they were appointed from eternity, and actually inflictedl
to see if he would bear them without murmuring.'  God
t The first part of this theory, then, though differing in phraseology, appears when analyzed, to be identically the same with the preceding, which
represents Christ to have died to set anz example of fortitude.




96                DISCOURSES ON THE
demanded no atonement for sin, no satisfaction to his violated law: he wished nothing but obedience in order to
forgive and bless mankind.  Yet obedience to his law, or
the perfect holiness of Christ, was not sufficient to become
the meritorious cause of forgiveness and restoration to man.
kind. No obedience would satisfy, but obedience to agony
and death; and that on the part of one, of whom  God
himself has testified, that "' he knew no sin, neither was
guile found in his lips."  But if there can be wantonness
in cruelty, it is found in subjecting a perfectly holy being
to intense suffering, in order to see whether he will bear it.
We had heard of the savage chieftain, who commanded
several of his warriors in succession, to cut off each his
right hand, in order to shew his obedience and devotedness
to his cause; but probably none of us had suspected that
it could find a parallel in the dispensations of God; and
that too not towards men or angels, but towards his beloved
Son, in whom he is ever well pleased.
As consented to by Christ, the step was one of extreme
folly.  It was a mere experiment on the firmness of his
own nerves; as if a man should thrust his hand into the
fire, to see how long he could hold it there.  It was trying
either how much suffering he could endure, or whether he
could endure the prescribed sufferings without sin; and on
either supposition was a mere wanton act of self-torment.
Such an exhibition would find no parallel in the Indian expiring without a groan or a murmur, under all the varieties
of savage torture; for he would escape if he could; nor
any where else except in those maniacs in Germany, who
not long since suffered their fellow maniacs to nail them to
a cross, in order to prove their fortitude under suffering,
and thus to perfect their obedience. And~ were any of us
to act in the same manner, we should of course be regarded
as equally bereft of our reason.




DEATH OF CHRIST.'                 97
-And what is the bearing of his sufferings on mankind.
We are called upon to witness the strange spectacle of the
Son of God, overwhelmed and at length destroyed by sufferings, which *were.prescribed by the Father, and consented. to by himself,-not for. his own punishment, or chastisement, or-moral improvement.;- not as a:.manifestation of
the: displeasure, of.. God.against: the sins of men; not to
magnify the- Law of. God -and make it honourable; but
merely to show how patiently he could- submit to agony
and death.-, And this exhibition: is to -have a two-fold efficacy.
(1.) It is said to have been intended as a powerful
means of moral improvement. -But how?  Was it, to
prompt our confidence in God? To inspire us with this,
we are elsewhere taught, that the- innocent; do not suffer;
and-that our sufferings-here are far less than we deserve.
But if God-chose to inflict unmerited sufferings on his own
Son, in: order to see how he would bear them, he -may also
on us; and the bare possibility, that he may do this, is, in
this murmuring world, sufficient to prompt the suspicion,
when our afflictions are severe, that he has done it, and
thus,to- destroy all our confidence in the equity:of his dispensations.  Was it to inspire us with fortitude under sufferings? -As an example of submission to unmerited sufferings, we did not need it; because we have no such
sufferings to endure.  As an example of submission to
sufferings generally, it is on the given supposition in various points of view a:bad one.  The consideration that
God may inflict unmerited sufferings on us, as well as on
his Son, merely to see how well we can bear them, is calculated to excite, not submission, but- murmuring and rebellion.  The example of Christ voluntarily subjecting
himself to- unmerited suffering, to show -how well he -could
8




98               DISCOURSES ON THE
bear it, if it has any influence on us, will only prompt us
to a similar exhibition-and that on the ground that our
supererogatory sufferings are meritorious; and that, the
more intense they are, the greater is the merit. This is
exactly the Romish system of penance, and is at open war
with the whole word of God. The example of Christ we
have also seen was inappropriate, because he had great
supports which are not vouchsafed to us; and, if he suffered
nothing but the pains of crucifixion, was a far less perfect
exhibition of fortitude, than that of many other martyrs.
Was it to prompt us to obedience in general? It could do
this, merely as it was an example of fortitude; for it
exhibited no obedience but submission to suffering, which is
only a definition of fortitude. We are then to go to Gethsemane and Calvary, and see the Son of God consenting
himself, and subjected by the Father, to an overwhelming
agony and an excruciating death, in order to show how
well he could bear them; and, in the contemplation of the
appalling spectacle, we are to grow wiser and better!
How strange a seminary, to have been instituted by the
Most High, for the moral improvement of mankind!
That the sufferings of Christ, so intense and overwhelming, viewed as a manifestation of the anger of God
against our sins on the person of his Son, and as a manifestation on his part of a love passing knowledge, are powerfully efficacious in showing us the guilt and odiousness of
sin, and in constraining us to love him who gave himself for
us, is certain. But the theory, that he endured these
dreadful sufferings in order to show how well he could bear
them, and in that way to teach us fortitude or obedience,
imputes such wantonness of cruelty to God, and such
causeless self-torture to Christ, that, while its necessary
tendency is, if believed, to shake our confidence in the




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 99
Divine wisdom and justice, it can neither inspire us with
hatred for sin, nor with respect and love for the Saviour.
The man who encounters imminent danger, or endures extreme suffering to save my life, is entitled to my lasting
gratitude.  But towards him, who comes before me and
inflicts such sufferings on himself, merely to show how well
he can bear pain, and in that way to teach me a lesson of
fortitude or to promote my moral improvement, I know not
what emotion I could feel except that of compassion. If
Paul, when the disciples at Damascus had prepared the
basket in which to let him down through a window by the
wall, instead of consenting to escape, had announced his
determination to deliver himself up to the governor under
Aretas the king, in order to show them how well he could
bear the pains of crucifixion, and thus promote their moral
improvement, would they not have replied instinctively, and
with good reason too, "Paul, thou art beside thyself;
much learning doth make thee mad."
(2.) The other part of the moral efficacy of this exhibition on mankind, is through its efficacy on God himself.
It is said, for some cause or other, to have been so acceptable to God, that on account of it he forgives the past sins
of men, and establishes a glorious dispensation of grace.
Whether the past sins here spoken of, denote the sins of
the human race at large, committed before Christ made
this exhibition, or the sins of every man, committed before
he becomes a practical subject of its efficacy, is a matter of
doubt. What also, on the first supposition, is the ground
of forgiving the sins of mankind committed subsequently
to this exhibition of obedience; or, on the second, those
committed subsequently to the commencement of its practical efficacy on each individual, as well as those committed
by the multitudes who lived before the exhibition was




100               DISCOURSES  ON THE
made, is equally uncertain.  But, leaving this, we are told'
by the theory, that Christ's exhibition of- perfect obedience
to the law of righteousness, or his perfect holiness was not
sufficiently acceptable in the view of- God,- to  procure the
forgiveness of sins~.  He- would not forgive. them unless
Christ also made an exhibition of obedience to sufferings
and death, or showed- how much he could bear without murmuring,  But why so?:  According to -the theory, no
atonement was necessary, no manifestation of -the anger of
God against the sins of men in the sufferings of Christ.
God was under no obligation: to inflict the penalty of:his
violated law on the transgressor.  He was just as able: in
the view of offended justice, and certainly in every other
point of view, to forgive sin without, as with, the death of
Christ.  He was also just as merciful, or just as willing to
forgive sin, in the one case as in the other. Why then
was Christ's obedience to suffering and death, or his showinog how well he could bear them, so much more acceptable
to God, than his perfect obedience to the law of -righteous:
ness?'Was it because: Christ's exhibition of- fortitude has
peculiar efficacy as a means of moral improvement?  We
have already seen that, as presented. in this'-theory' a fortitude under causeless sufferings, it has no such efficacy,
Was - it because God could not know: how. perfect; Christ's
obedience would prove, unless he actually: submitted to the
most excruciating sufferings'? -If this were true, what
need was there of knowing it-? But it-is obviously untrue.
He who is omnipresent, knew as- perfectly before, as after,the death of Christ, how much suffering he could bear with:
out:sinning, and how well. he would  bear' the sufferings;
which he actually endured.  Was it because perfect obes,
dience to the law:of righteousness is in itself less acceptable to God;than obedience -to sufferings and death?:: To:




DISCOURSES ON THE               101
say this, is to say that God takes more pleasure in inflicting
sufferings on perfectly holy beings, than in their perfect
holiness. But perfect holiness is a perfect conformity to
his own will-to what he himself supremely desires.  God
therefore has less pleasure in a perfect conformity to what
he himself supremely desires, than in inflicting extreme
sufferings and death on those who exhibit it; although
they deserve nothing at his hands but the highest approbation and love.
In every point of view, therefore, in which we regard
the death of Christ according to this theory, it was not
only altogether unnecessary, and absolutely inefficacious in
accomplishing the ends for which it is said to have taken
place, but it also carries with it the most direct and palpable imputation on the wisdom and righteousness of God.
2. The Scriptures no where assign this reason. The declaration that Christ " became obedient unto death," as
we have seen, denotes that he voluntarily submitted to
death with resignation.  In the two passages already
quoted from the epistle to the IIebrews, there is not an
intimation that, to make an exhibition of submission, or to
show how well he could bear pain, was the end of Christ's
sufferings and death; nor have I been able to find one in
any other passage, throughout the sacred volume.
3. The deep interest which the death of Christ has excited, is on this scheme an inexplicable mystery. If it be
true, angels and saints in heaven, and patriarchs, kings and
prophets on earth, were occupied for many revolving ages,
in looking forward to the arrival of the momentous period,
when Jesus, by showing how well he could bear pain,
should lay the foundation of the moral improvement of
the human race, and perform a work so meritorious in the
sight of God, that to reward it he would grant the forgives
f A




102              DISCOURSES ON THE:
ness of sins that are past,' and establish a glorious dispensation of grace on the earth.  If it be true, God the
Father, attended by Moses and Elijah, was-manifested on
Mount Tabor to Christ and- the three disciples, to converse
with him on his submitting to be crucified in:order-to show
how well he could bear it.  And- this causeless infliction -of
suffering on: the one part, and this causeless submission to;
it on the other, led the heavenly host to change their
wonted melodies, and commence the everlasting song to
him who, by: showing how well he could endure the most
excruciating sufferings, laid a- broad and permanent:foundation for the forgiveness and moral improvement of mankind.   And this exhibition was -so pleasing to God and so
morally improving to men, that it effected the reconciliation
of both, and led the spirits of the just, with a rapture
before unknown, to say to - him who made it, " Thou art
worthy, for thou hast redeemed us to God by: thy blood-."
4. This-theory: wholly fails to account for the incidents
connected with his death.  According to - it, his prayer in
the garden must be thus interpreted: O my Father, if itbe
possible, suffer me to- escape those excruciating 0 miseries,
which thou art about to'bring upon me,in order that:I may
show how well I can bear them! - His agony on that:occasion was owing either, merely to his lively anticipation of
the ordinary sufferings of:crucifixion, or -to the anticipation
of these, and of -other sufferings which were extraordinary
and peculiar to his:individual case.  If to the first; that
agony, on any principles consistent with his own: fortitude,
is wholly unexplained.  If to the -second; no reason- can
be assigned for his extraordinary and. peculiar sufferings
except this-that, when the Son of God had voluntarily
consented to suffer the ignominious and excruciating: death
of the cross, in order to show how well he could bear: it,




DEATH:OF CHRIST.:              103
the Father, not satisfied with that, heaped upon him far
more intense and overwhelming agonies, in order to render
the exhibition complete. -Well, indeed, might the sun be
darkened, and the earth tremble, and the rocks rend
asunder, and the very dead come forth, at such a sight as
this.5. On this scheme, Christ has no exclusive right to the
titles which he claims as peculiarly his own. If the sufferings of Christ were unusual, extraordinary and inflicted by
God, we have seen that the theory represents God as inflicting them on his Son, in order to see how well he could
bear them, and therefore cannot be true. If they were
only the ordinary sufferings of crucifixion, the exhibition of obedience to sufferings, or of submission; made by
many-of the martyrs, even without the peculiar supports
which he enjoyed, was at least as perfect as that made by
Christ.  Of course each one of these exhibitions, as made
by men like ourselves, and as being far more appropriate
to our circumstances, was a more powerful means of moral
improvement, and therefore more acceptable to God, and a
better foundation for the forgiveness of sins that are past,
and for the establishment of a glorious dispensation of
grace on the earth. But Christ's peculiar titles were given
him in consequence of his sufferings and death.  Every
one of the martyrs, therefore, to whom I have referred, has
even a better claim to these titles than Christ.  Every one
of them, therefore, on better grounds than he, can regard
himself as the Lamb of God who taketh away the sin of the:
world, as the Saviour of sinners, and as the Redeemer of
mankind. The apostle, too, was mistaken in supposing that.
there is no other name given under heaven among men
whereby they may be saved, and the multitude of the redeemed, instead of turning to the one Lamb in:the midst of;




104               DISCOURSES ON THE
the throne, ought to associate with him thousands and tens
of thousands who stand before it, and to say to the whole
company of Saviours, " Ye are all worthy, for ye have redeemed us to God by your blood."
6. This theory, though devised and expressed with
peculiar ingenuity and caution, in order that it may at
least appear to correspond with the language of the Scriptures, is yet wholly inconsistent with many of the forms of
phraseology in which the great end accomplished by the
death of Christ is explained. The Scriptural writers represent all the sins of men, and not merely the sins that are
past, as forgiven, in consequence of the death of Christ.
They no where represent Christ's exhibition of submission
to suffering, to show how much he could bear, as the great
means of improving the moral character and condition of
mankind, but every where ascribe this effect to the efficacy of Truth, accompanied by the influences of the Holy
Spirit. They represent Christ as dying for the forgiveness
of our sins, but we have seen that every possible reason for
the exercise of forgiveness existed before his death, which
according to this theory existed after his death.  They
represent Christ as our sin-offering, and as the passover
sacrificed for us, but neither the goat of the sin offering
nor the paschal lamb was sacrificed as an exhibition either
of obedience or submission, or to show the Israelites how
well either of the animals could endure bodily pain without
complaint. They say that Christ made an atonement for
our sins, but the Levitical atonement did not consist in the
exhibition of fortitude made by the dying lamb for the
moral improvement of mankind.  They say that God laid
on him the iniquities of us all, that he bare our sins in his
own body on the tree, and that he was made a curse for us
to redeem  us from the curse (the penalty) of the law,




DEATH  0  CHRIST.                  105
but neither of these phrases without gross violence can be
explained to mean that he suffered crucifixion to show how:
wvell he could bear it. -
iV., It is. said that the Great End of the death of Christ
was to furnish a sign, a token, that God is willing to pardon
the penitent, andtthus-to persuade mankind to repent and
turn to God.
A sign, a token, is a visible representation of a fact or a
truth, and -is intended either for information, for evidence,
or for impression.  The letters of the alphabet: are signs
informing us of the articulate sounds to be employed.
The rain and the sunshine are signs proving the goodness
of God.  Baptism  is an impressive sign of:the truth that
man needs cleansing from guilt and pollution.
According  to this, theory, God was in fact perfectly
willing to pardon the penitent, independently of the death
of Christ,-: and neither the threatenings of his law nor the
welfare of his kingdom presented any difficulty in the way
of an indiscriminate pardon, or laid him under any necessity of manifesting his,anger against, sin.  Christ did not,
suffer and die to lay a foundation for pardon.  His death
was not a manifestation of the displeasure of God:against
sin, bbut was intended either to announce the willingness of.
God to pardon the penitent, or to furnish evidence of it, or
to impress it on the mind.  He did not procure pardon for
us, he-:merely represented God's:willingness to grant it.*: This theory can* scarcely be stated without suggesting
numerous objections to the mind of every attentive reader
of:the Scriptures.' This theory is probably the favorite one, at the present moment, of those
who reject the doctrine: of the Atonement in this country, and yet do not
avowedly. renounce -the inspiration of the Scriptures.




106              DISCOURSES ON THE
1. If it be true, the death of Christ was wholly unnecessary.
There was obviously no need of representing this truth
at all.  If there was, it was because the opposite principle,
that God would certainly punish sin even in the penitent,
was, previous to the death of Christ, most firmly riveted
in the human mind.  But why was it thus riveted?  Not,
certainly, because there was any willingness in the human
mind to be punished, but because God had either explicitly
in his word, or implicitly in the consciences of men, revealed his settled determination to punish sin. But if,
previous to the death of Christ, he had revealed this determination, he had actually formed it. And if, in the death
of Christ, he announced the contrary determination, it was
because he had then changed his mind and actually formed
the contrary determination. But, according to the theory,
God was always infinitely willing to pardon the penitent,
and no difficulty existed in the way of pardon before the
death of Christ which does not now exist, i. e. his death
removed no such difficulty, and furnished no new or additional reason for pardoning sin. If then there was any
necessity of representing the willingness of God to pardon
the penitent, either God originally formed and revealed his
settled determination to punish sin when it was not necessary, and then, changing his mind without any reason,
announced in the death of Christ his determination not to
punish it, which is absurd, or, he originally formed and
revealed his settled determination to punish sin because it
was necessary to punish it, and then, changing his mind
without any reason, and when none of the original necessity had been removed, he announced in the death of
Christ his determination not to punish it, which is equally
absurd.  Of course, the death of Christ was a sign, a




DEATH OF CHRIST.                107
token, of God's changing his mind without any reason
whatever, as well as of the fact, that he either originally
revealed a settled determination to punish sin, even in the
penitent, when no necessity of punishing it existed, and
that, too, so clearly and impressively, that no other expedient which he could devise-no revelation, no voice from
heaven, no miracle, no martyrdom of prophets or apostles,
no incarnation and death even of an angel-nothing, in
short, but the ignominious and excruciating death of his
beloved Son could remove the impression, or that, when its
punishment was originally necessary, and thus most impressively revealed, he subsequently announced a settled
determination not to punish it, though none of that original
necessity was removed. As we cannot admit these absurdities, we are compelled to conclude, that, on the very
grounds on which this theory rests, there was no necessity
of any sign or token to represent the willingness of God
to pardon the penitent.
Again. This theory admits mankind to have been sinners, that is, transgressors of the law of God.'  But, if a
ruler is in fact willing to pardon those who have transgressed the laws, there cannot, in the nature of the case,
be any difficulty in persuading them  to believe it.  The
only alternative in his treatment of them is punishment or
pardon. tBut they certainly do not wish to be punished, and
as certainly they do wish to be pardoned or exempted firom
punishment. And the same motives which render them
willing to be pardoned, would render them willing to believe,
if the fact were really so, that the ruler was willing to pardon them. The human mind is always willing to believe what
it wishes, even against evidence, but where evidence and inclination coincide,the case has never yet been known in which
"For sin is the transgression of the law."-1 John 3. 4,




108              DISCOURSES.S ON THE
it was difficult to produce conviction. - In some:of these
states it has not been necessary to announce the universal
pardon of offences in order to inspire transgressors wilth the
hope of obtaining it.  The indiscreet multiplication of pardons on the part of the government, has been so efficacious
in diffusing this hope, that the prisons have overflowed with
the expectants of its clemency. In the Bible-the statute
book by which God governs his kingdom  in this: world —
there are numerous clauses which at least appear, and
beyond all doubt have been very generally believed, to
threaten: transgressors with punishment, and that, too,
neither very mild in degree nor very short in duration.
Yet, with these minatory clauses staring them in the face,'
mankind have to a prodigious extent believed and been fully
persuaded, that God would certainly pardon them, either:
whenever they should repent, or without any repentance at
all.  The history of the world ever has been, and now is,
a practical comment upon this persuasion. If then these
minatory clauses could have been expunged, or had not
been inserted, the persuasion that God would pardon the
penitent would have been universal. All that was necessary on the part of the Supreme Ruler, to secure the most
implicit credence in this his gracious intention, was to announce it, and mankind would have gladly believed it
without evidence.
But it may be said, " If the death of Christ was- not
necessary either to announce or to prove that God wouldpardon the penitent, still it was necessary for the purpose
of impression.  We are not creatures of mere abstraction:
but of sense and feeling. -   hen we behold Christ dying
to persuade us that God will pardon the penitent, this truth
is exhibited to the eye and the heart, and is far more calculated to have a powerful efficacy on the man, than if it




DEATH OF CHRIST.                109
were addressed merely to the intellect."  All this is true,
provided there was any good. reason for his dying.  The
question Cui bono? can'-never be put with stronger emphasis than to one who is about to sacrifice his own life. If
my friend were to endure. intense sufferings to save my life
I should never forget his kindness.: But if he were -to come
voluntarily-and inflict them on himself, merely to announce
a fact which:he might have announced -with- his lips, or to
prove that fact when I was: too ready to.~admit it without
proof, or to make an impression on my feelings, I should
regard his conduct as the result either of weakness or
lunacy.  If Christ died to save me from the wrath of God,
I can see why his dying love should -'constrain me to repentance and gratitude, but if he endured overwhelming
agonies and an excruciating death, merely to excite sympathy or any other emotion of tenderness, or to convince
me that God was willing to pardon the;penitent, I see at
once that he was under a delusion, and that he died for
nothing, and - though I may pity and regret his" sufferings
I cannot respect his good sense.
If —mankind were not too ready to- believe that God is
willing to pardon the sinner on his repentance, yet the idea
that the death of Christ was necessary to furnish evidence
of this fact is most preposterous. If God is thus willing
he could prove it without this amazing sacrifice.  The
capacity -of God is at least equal to that of men, and he is
able to make his feelings and purposes known to men with
adequate evidence and emphasis without giving his Son to
die either to announce, to prove, or to impress them.
When he spake to the patriarchs, or delivered the oracle in
the tabernacle or the temple, or sent messages by the -prophets, he actually constrained those who heard or received
them to perceive and to feel that-the voice or the message
10




110              DISCOURSES ON -TE
came from God. In some way or other, also, aside from
the death of his Son, he convinced the patriarchs, prophets
and people of Israel, and that, too, as firmly and operatively as men are now convinced, that he was willing to
pardon the repenting sinner. The difficulty with the impenitent Israelites was not, that on this point their evidence
was not satisfactory, it was their readiness to believe that
he would pardon them even if they did not repent.  But
if all good men before the death of Christ were both convinced, and adequately impressed with the truth that God
would pardon the penitent, they were thus convinced and
impressed by competent evidence and competent means of
impression, and the same evidence and means of impression might have been furnished to all without his dying,
and if their conviction and impressions were practical and
sanctifying, the same evidence and means of impression
might have had an equally powerful efficacy on all on whom
they were brought to bear. The agony of Christ therefore was causeless, and his death a mere wanton waste of
blood. It effected nothing which had not been actually for
ages as well effected without it. IHis fervent supplication,
therefore, " If it be possible, let this cup pass from me,"'-.i. e, according to this theory, " If it be possible to persuade men that thou art willing to pardon the penitent,
without my dying on the cross, let me not be crucified,' —
was founded on a palpable mistake; and instead of suffering himself to be betrayed by Judas he should have remained in Galilee and not gone down to the passover.
2. We call for evidence that the great end of Christ's
death was to furnish a sign, a token, of God's willingness
to pardon the penitent.
That the death of Christ was a sign of something is readily admitted; for, as God always acts rationally or with




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 111
design, there is no event of providence which does not express, if rightly understood, the real purpose of his mind.
But the question is, was it the great end of Christ's death
to furnish a sign, a token, of God's willingness to pardon
the penitent?
Signs are either significant, or arbitrary. A significant
sign, of itself, and without being announced as a sign, represents the thing signified, but an arbitrary sign, until it
has been explicitly announced as representing the thing
signified, does not represent it, and is not a sign of it. A
violent blow intentionally inflicted on an individual is a
significant sign, as it speaks for itself, and needs not to be
announced as indicating the displeasure of him who inflicts
it. The bow in the clouds is merely an arbitrary sign of
God's covenant no more to deluge the earth, since it has
no natural connection with the thing signified.
The death of Christ certainly is not a significant sign, or
token, of God's willingness to pardon the penitent. Suffering is in itself an evil, and intense suffering a great evil.
Suffering voluntarily inflicted by one being on another, if
unexplained, is a natural and direct indication or sign of
anger on the part of him who inflicts it towards the sufferer, and if the suffering be intense, of intense anger.
Thus it is exhibited both by the Scriptures and by common
sense. If a parent inflicts suffering on his child, the child
of course looks upon it as an indication of displeasure; and
unless it is clearly explained, will not view it even as a
chastisement, but as a punishment. So naturally does the
human mind regard it in this manner, that God, to prevent
misapprehension, has thought it necessary to explain the
sufferings of his children in the present life, and to inform
us, that " whom the Lord loveth, he chasteneth, and
scourgeth every son whom he receiveth." The overwhelm



112              DISCOURSaES ON THmE
ing sufferings of Christ, therefore, if unexplained, are a
significant sign of the intense anger of God against Christ
himself, and can-only be regarded in the light of punishment, inflicted. on him  as a manifestation of that, anger.
Unexplained, therefore, they cannot be regarded, either as
a manifestation of God's anger against the sins of men, or
as a sign of his willingness to pardon the penitent.
Was it then the great end of the death of- Christ to furnish an arbitrary sign of God's willingness to pardon the
penitent? If so, it is explicitly announced as such by God...
But whereare we to look for such an annunciation?  Certainly not to the Scriptures.  Among all the various forms
of phraseology, in which the death of Christ is explained
in the Scriptures, there is not one, in which it is said that.
the great end for which it occurred was to furnish a sign,
a token, that God is willing to pardon the penitent.  The
cheering truth that God is willing and ready to pardon the
penitent, and that every obstacle in the way of their pardon is removed, is indeed often urged from  the fact that
God laid on him the iniquities of  us all; that he bare our
sins, that he atoned for our sins, that he was a sacrifice for
our sins, that he gave himself as a ransom  to procure the
forgiveness of our sins, that he has redeemed:-us from tha
curse of the law, (i. e. from  punishments) and that God
has unequivocally accepted the sacrifice by raising him:
from the dead.  ZBut the idea that it was the great end of
Christ's death to furnish a sign, a token, of God's willingness to pardon the penitent-to announce this willingness,
or to prove it, or to impress it on the minds of men-is not
asserted, nor even suggested, by any scriptural writer.
This single fact will be enough to induce every one, who,
on a subject of mere revelation, regulates his faith by what
is actually revealed, to reject this theory altogether.




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 113
It will here be said that Christ is spoken of as a sacrifice
for sin, and a sin-offering; that it is expressly asserted to
be " impossible for the blood of bulls and of goats to take
away sin;" that the animals offered in sacrifice were therefore merely signs and tokens of God's willingness to forgive the penitent; and that as Christ also was such a
sacrifice, his death was merely a sign, a token, of the same
truth.
To state this argument is so obviously to refute it that I
fear you will regard an apology necessary for paying it any
farther attention. The two first of the premises here
stated we admit, but we ask for proof of the third, viz.
" that the animals offered in sacrifice were merely signs or
tokens of God's willingness to pardon the penitent." That
they were signs of something we agree; but the mere fact,
that their blood could not take away sin, certainly does not
prove that they could have been signs of nothing else except of that willingness. If they could not take away sin,
the death of Christ might, and according to the Apostle it
did take it away; and of his death they might have been,
and according to the Apostle they were, signs, or types.'
But if they might have been, and in fact were, signs of
Christ's bearing our sins, or taking them away, they answered one most important end; and we are not compelled,
therefore, from  any difficulty of discovering a sufficiently
important end which they could have answered, to conclude
that they must have been signs of God's willingness to
pardon the penitent. Where then is the evidence of this
fact? The Levitical law says no such thing. It speaks
of these animals as, by their blood, purging, cleansing,
bearing, taking away, and making atonement for the sins
Heb. ix, 19028.
100




114               DISCOURSES ON THI
of the offerer; of their being a ransom for his life; and of
his sins as forgiven, in consequence of his offering the sacrifice. But, that the sacrifice of these animals was instituted to represent the willingness in: question, there is not
an intimation in the Pentateuch.
The offerer, in every case, by the very fact of presenting
the animal at the door of the tabernacle, proved that he
already most fully believed in, and was deeply impressed
with, God's willingness to pardon the penitent.  There
was no need then of his sacrificing the animal; he might
have preserved its life and taken it back again, as the end
in view was already accomplished. If, then, these animals
were sacrificed to announce, to prove, or to impress the
truth that God was willing to pardon the penitent, they
were alway-s and of course sacrificed in vain; for the bare
fact of his bringing the animal for a sacrifice, proved
necessarily that the offerer already believed and was fully
impressed with this truth.  Certain it is, therefore, that
these animals were not sacrificed as signs or, tokens of
God's willingness to pardon the penitent. If, then, the
third of these premises is a mistake, the inference from
them, that Christ died as a sign or a token of that willingness, is not supported.
Again. This theory is founded on the supposition, that
the type is in all respects equal to the antitype; the sign
to the thing signified; the shadow to the substance; the
emblem to the reality.  The argument is this: It was not
possible for the blood of bulls and of goats to take away
sin, but their blood was a type or shadow of, the blood of
Christ, therefore the blood of Christ did not take away sin.
The force of this logic was doubtless realized by John the
Baptist, when, as a harbinger of the Messiah, he made the
public official annunciation of him  to mankind, "Behold




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 115
the Lamb of God which talketh away the sin of the world,'
as well as by Paul when he declared, " Christ was once
offered to bear the sins of many," and by Christ himself
when he declared at the sacramental table, "' This is my
blood, which is shed for the forgiveness of sins."
The position that the antitype, or the substance, has no
efficacy or excellence which was not found in the type, or
the shadow, will lead to singular results. Baptismal water
is a type of the influences of the Holy Spirit; but baptism, the type, does not purify the heart; therefore, the
influences of the Spirit, the antitype, have no purifying
efficacy.  David was a type of Christ.  But David was
not the Saviour of the world; therefore Christ was not the
Saviour of the world.  Elijah was a type of John the Baptist, but Elijah was not the harbinger of Christ; therefore
John the Baptist was not his harbinger.  Jerusalem  and
its temple were shadows of Heaven, and of the spiritual
temple which God is erecting there; but Jerusalem and its
temple were not destined for an immortal state of existence; the same therefore is true of heaven and of the
temple of God on high.
It is singular that Paul, when reasoning in his Epistle to
the Hebrews on this very subject, comes to the directly
opposite conclusion. Having observed that the priests, the
tabernacle and the utensils, the gifts and the sacrifices,
employed in the ceremonial worship, were only types and
shadows of the things in heaven,' he tells us, that as under
both dispensations there was no forgiveness without shedding of blood, the high priest, under the first, went yearly
into the holy place of the tabernacle, to offer a sin-offering
for his own sins and the sins of the people; and Christ,
- Heb. viii. 1-5, and ix. 9-12, and 19-23.




116              DISCOURSES ON THE
under the new, not by the blood of bulls and of goats, but
by his own blood, entered into heaven, to obtain eternal redemption for us; and actually obtained the redemption (i.
e. the forgiveness) of the transgressions committed under
the first dispensation;' that, as the law was merely the
shadow and not the substance of the new dispensation, its
continual sacrifices could not cleanse the conscience nor
make the worshipper perfect, because it was impossible for
the blood of bulls and of goats to take away sin; and
therefore that Christ assumed a body, and, by offering that
body once for all a sacrifice for sin, actually took away the
sins of men, and then forever sat down at the right hand
of God.t Thus the Apostle, instead of arguing from the
inefficacy of the blood of bulls and of goats to take away
sin, that the blood of Christ was equally inefficacious,
derives directly the opposite conclusion, and insists that
Christ offered himself a sacrifice for sin, that he might do
that which the blood of bulls and of goats could not accomplish.
3. The deep interest manifested in the death of Christ
by the heavenly world is, on this scheme, utterly inexplicable.
The conviction that God was willing to pardon the penitent, either was necessary, or it was not necessary, to the
virtue and salvation of men.  If it was not necessary,
then Christ need not have died to produce it. If it was
necessary, as the patriarchs and other virtuous men, who
obtained salvation before the death of Christ, were so fully
convinced of this truth, and so powerfully impressed with
it, as to be rendered at least as virtuous, and as much
entitled to salvation, without any —knowledge of the death;W- Heb. ix. 11-15.        fi~ Heb.*x, TT   1



DEATH OF CHRIST.                117
of Christ, as we are with it; we therefore might also
have been thus convinced and impressed, without that
knowledge; and, on that supposition also, Christ need not
have died to produce it.  Why then are the angels represented as earnestly desirous for agesto look into the sufferings of Christ, and the glory that should follow?  If the
conviction that God was willing to pardon the penitent, was
not necessary to the virtue or salvation of men, then they
were occupied for ages in looking forward to see the Son
of God die an agonizing death in order to furnish a sign, a
token, of that which was in itself wholly unnecessary. If
it was necessary; yet, as the patriarchs had it as fully as
we, the angels were thus occupied for ages in looking forward to see Christ die, as a sign, a token of a truth, which
had already been adequately represented to mankind, for
every purpose connected with virtue and salvation. If this
conviction was not necessary, then the God of heaven came
down to earth, attended by Moses and Elijah, and met his
beloved Son on Mount Tabor, accompanied by the three
chief apostles, and while his face did shine as the sun, and:
the cloud of glory overshadowed them, they conversed
together respecting his dying on the cross, to furnish a
sign, a token of that which it was wholly useless to represent to mankind; and, if the conviction was necessary,
they thus assembled, to converse together about his dying,
to furnish a sign, a token of a truth, of which -mankinc
had already all the means of evidence or impression necessary for their virtue and salvation. If this conviction was
not necessary, then the whole choir of angels re-tuned their
harps, and commenced a new:and everlasting song, to commemorate the sign or token of a truth which it was wholly
useless to represent; and, if it was necessary, they did
this, when that truth had been for ages adequately represented.




118             DISCOURSES ON THE
4. The importance attached to the death of Christ, by
the scriptural writers, is on this scheme excessive and
hyperbolical.  If the conviction of the truth in question
was not necessary to the virtue or salvation of men, then
Christ's dying to represent it, was not the great manifestation of the love of God, nor the sum and substance of the
Gospel, nor the only thing in which an Apostle ought to
have gloried. And if it was necessary; yet since we, as
truly as the patriarchs, might have been adequately impressed with it, for every valuable purpose, without the
death of Christ; their representation of its importance are,
on this supposition, equally extravagant.
5. The titles appropriated to Christ in the Scriptures on
this scheme belong equally to others. All the martyrs
testified as fully as Christ did, the willingness of God to
pardon the penitent; and many of them under sufferings
far more severe than those of crucifixion.  The death of
every one of them therefore was, equally with his, an impressive representation of this truth, and each one of them
is as truly as he, the Saviour, and the Redeemer; and instead of one only name there are tens of thousands of
names given under heaven among men, whereby they must
be saved.
6. The saints in heaven who died before the death of
Christ are on this supposition totally mistaken.  They
became eminently virtuous men, and obtained salvation,
without any knowledge of this sign, this token, of the
willingness of God to pardon the penitent; and of course
derived no personal benefit from his death. When, therefore, as a part of the church of the first-born they unite in
the grateful ascription, " Thou hast redeemed us to God by
thy blood," their gratitude is obviously unfounded; and
they ought in good conscience to withdraw from the com



DEATH OF CHRIST.                119
pany of the redeemed, and give the glory of their salvation
to the individual, if they can discover him, to whom it is
due.
7. The willingness of Christ to suffer the death of the
cross is equally unaccountable. If the conviction or the
deep impression of the truth, that God is willing to pardon
the penitent, was not necessary for the virtue or salvation
of men, Christ either knew this fact, or he did not know
it. If he knew it, his voluntarily dying as a sign, a token
of this willingness, was a wanton throwing away of his
own life, to accomplish an object known to be useless, and
that, too, just after he had fervently prayed thrice, " If it
be possible, let this cup pass from me;" and if he did not
know it, he was left, after the impassioned supplications of
Gethsemane, through a mere delusion on his part, to exhibit, before an astonished universe, during six hours of
inconceivable agony, a sign, a token of a truth, which there
was no need of representing, to promote either the virtue
or salvation of mankind.  If the conviction or the impression of this truth was necessary, yet Christ knew that unnumbered thousands, during four long millenniums, without
any knowledge of his death, had been sufficiently acquainted and impressed with it, to become eminently virtuous and ultimately to ascend to heaven; and that if he
did not die, other men, with similar means of knowing and
of being impressed, might do the same. When, therefore,
he earnestly wished, if it were possible, to avoid dying, he'
yet went voluntarily and deliberately from Galilee to Jerusalem, to make a most agonizing representation of a truth,
which he knew had been sufficiently represented already
for every purpose of virtue and salvation.
8. This theory gives no explanation of his early death.
Whether the sign, the token, of the truth in question was




120              DISCOURSES ON THE
necessary for the purpose of annunciation, of evidence, or
of impression, it might have been exhibited just as clearly
and strikingly after a ministry of forty years as of four.
How strange then as well as how unfortunate that he was
crucified: at so untimely a period!
9. Christ's explanation of his own death at the sacramental supper, " This is my blood, which is shed for the
remission of sins," is totally inconsistent with this theory,
The phrase, -' blood shed for the forgiveness of sins," denotes blood shed to procure their forgiveness, and is most
obviously a totally different thing from blood shed as a sign,
a token of a previously existing willingness to forgive.
10. The violence and ignominy of his death were in this
case wholly unnecessary. Mankind are not so hard to be
persuaded of the truth, which of all others they are most
willing to believe, that even the mission, the instruction,
and the death of the Son of God, could not convince them
of it, unless in addition to the ordinary pains of dying, he
consented to endure the overwhelming agonies of Calvary.
11. The nature and degree of his sufferings, and his conduct with regard to them, it leaves equally unexplained.
How deep the darkness which covers the scene in Gethsemane!  If this long-wished for sign, this long expected
token of the willingness of God to pardon the penitent,
was so important as not only to be the object of anticipation and prophecy for successive ages on earth, but to occupy the minds of angels, to call down Jehovah from the
upper skies, and to change forever the worship of heaven;
and if Jesus had nothing before him but the pains of crucifixion; how unutterably strange and mysterious, that one
so holy, so patient and resigned, so fearless of death, so enriched by the Spirit, so blest with the Father's love and
safe in his protection, so conscious of the joy set before




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 121
him, and so secure of rising again on the third day, from
the mere fear of crucifixion, a death which thousands have
met without a groan, should thrice prostrate himself in an
agony so intense and overwhelming, as to force from him
first the thrice-repeated cry, " If it be possible, let me not
be crucified, as a sign, a token of thy willingness to pardon
the penitent!9'" and then the sweat of blood falling to the
ground! Whence, too, on Calvary, that anguish of the
mind, that " travail of the soul," in suffering which the
pains of crucifixion were all forgotten? Did God inflict
these sufferings upon him, and then forsake him, because
at the expense of his life, he was exhibiting a sign, a token
of the willingness of God to pardon the penitent? and was
this the cause why the sun withheld its wonted beams, and
the surrounding universe heaved as with its last convulsions?
12. It contradicts all the scriptural explanations of the
death of Christ. Not an example can be adduced in which
to die for another, or to die for our sins, denotes to die as
a sign, a token of the willingness of God to forgive sin.
The same is true of the phrases to die for the forgiveness
of our sins, to become a sacrifice for sin, to make an atonement for sin, to die to reconcile us to God, and to bear our
sins; every one of which has been proved to have an appropriate technical meaning, as used by the scriptural
writers, that of dying to procure our exemption from punishment.  When also it is said that we are justified by his
blood; that we are saved from wrath by his death, that
God does not impute our trespasses to us in consequence of
his dying for us, that in suffering for us he gave himself an
avrxu1lpov-a ransom in our stead; and above all that. he
hath redeemed us from the curse of the law-(the sufferings due for its violation) by being made a curse, (i. e.
11




122              DISCOURSES ON THE
enduring sufferings judicially inflicted) for us; and when
we call to mind the several results of the preceding examination, we cannot fail, I think, to see that the theory in
question is not only at open war with all the explanations
of the death of Christ contained in the Scriptures, but
inconsistent alike with all the phenomena attending that
event, with the exalted character of Christ, and with the
perfections of God.
V. It is said that the Great End of Christ's death was
to prove the Resurrection of the Body.
If Christ died to prove the resurrection of the body, yet
his death, apart from his resurrection, does not prove it.
That he taught this doctrine is unquestionable: "' Marvel
not at this; for the hour is coming, in which all who are in
their graves shall hear the voice of the Son of Man, and
shall come forth; they that have done good to the resurrection of life, and they that have done evil to the resurrection of damnation." His dying as a martyr to the
truth of this doctrine proves indeed that he was sincere in
teaching it, but it does not prove that it is true,-for the
very obvious reason that false systems of faith have often
found their martyrs. When the Mohammedan dies fighting for his religion, is it true that there is a sensual paradise to which he will find admission because he avowedly
believes it? or have we evidence that the polluted and
sanguinary system of Boodh is true because the deluded
Hindoo proves his sincerity by leaping into the Ganges, or
throwing himself under the car of Juggernaut.  Suppose
then that Christ suffered death to prove the truth of this
doctrine, still his death taken by itself proves nothing but
his sincerity and his firmness. But though he thus evinced
that he fully believed it, the question still arises, in this




DEATE OF CHRIST.                 123
as in every other case, Was he he not mistaken? and the
decision of this question will depend, not on the fact of his
martyrdom, but on the evidence which he furnished of its
truth.
That the resurrection of Christ proves the doctrine of a
general resurrection is unquestionable; and it does so in
the following manner. Before his death, Christ declared,
before numerous witnesses, enemies as well as friends, that
himself was to die and on the third day was to rise again.
On this fact he staked his reputation as the Messiah the
Son of God. He also, as we have seen, announced a general resurrection. Now the truth is, that Christ actually
died upon the cross, was buried in the tomb of Joseph,
and was raised from  the dead on the third day.  These
facts we can prove by adequate evidence.  But as God
cannot lie, nor work a miracle to furnish evidence of a
falsehood, we are sure, since Christ taught a general resurrection, that it will certainly take place.:So far is agreed on both sides. But when it is said that,
to furnish evidence of a general resurrection, was the Great
End of his death, we are compelled to doubt, and that for
the following reasons:
1. The mere fact that his death and Resurrection do
actually furnish this evidence, is no proof whatever that to
furnish this evidence was the end for which he died, because, if he must die and rise again, and this, too, must
be known to mankind, it was not in the nature of things
possible that this evidence should not be thus furnished.
Surely if the evidence is inherent in the event, so that the
event cannot come to pass without furnishing the evidence,
it does not therefore follow that to furnish the evidence was
the great end for which the event took place. The fact,
therefore, that the Apostles allege the resurrection of




124              DISCOURSES ON THE
Christ, as well-as his other miracles, in proof of his divine
mission and of the general resurrection, merely proves that
they availed themselves of the arguments in their possession, but in no degree whatever shows the great end of
Christ's suffering and death.
If there can be a doubt on this point, it will be removed
by taking a part.of the very case in hand, When Christ
lay dead in the tomb of Joseph, there was some reason
why he must rise from the dead.  But if he rose, his resurrection would necessarily furnish this evidence.- Will
it then-be maintained that the simple fact, that his rising
firom the dead would prove a general resurrection, is the
great reason why the Son of God was not suffered to lie
buried in the grave until the end of the world? If it would
not have furnished this evidence, would he have been suffered "' to see corruption," when Peter tells us "; it was not
possible that he should be holden of death?"   Was to furnish this evidence-and not to organize his church, to commission his Apostles, and then to ascend to heaven that
there he might overrule all things for the good of his
church —the great end of his resurrection?  If this does
not follow, neither does it follow that it was the great end
of his death.
2. The scriptural writers no where assert that Christ
died to furnish this evidence.  After his resurrection
they appeal indeed to that event in proof of their own
mission, and so they do to: his other miracles with equal
confidence..' Ye men of Israel," said Peter on the day
of Pentecost, "hear these words; Jesus of Nazareth,
a man approved of God among you by miracles, and
wonders, and signs which God did by him in the midst of
you, as ye yourselves also know."'   It was evidence
* Acts ii. 22.




DEATH OF CHRIST.               125
which grew out of the event, but is no where mentioned as
its cause.
3. If Christ died to furnish evidence of the resurrection
of the body, his death was wholly unnecessary. This will
appear in various ways.
Patriarchs, and prophets, and other good men, who lived
during the first four thousand years of time, either had
clear evidence of a general resurrection, or they had not.
If they had, they had it' without any knowledge of the
death of Christ, and so might the rest of the world as well
as they, and in precisely the same manner. Of course,
his death, on this supposition, was wholly unnecessary to
prove the resurrection, for it was proved already. If they
had not this evidence, still many of them, particularly
Enoch, Noah, Abraham, Job, Moses, Joshua, Samuel, Elijah, Isaiah, Daniel, and the prophets, as well as Simeon,
Anna, and John the Baptist, were as eminently wise and
virtuous as any of those who have it; and in company
with all the wise and good who lived before the death of
Christ, as truly went to heaven as any who have lived since
his death.  Hence, those who are without this evidence
can be as holy, and fully entitled to the divine favor, and
as certain of a welcome in heaven, as those who possess it;
and in that case, the evidence of the general resurrection
is wholly unnecessary either for the virtue or salvation of
mankind. Surely if, without the evidence of a resurrection furnished by the death of Christ, we could have possessed equal holiness, and been entitled to equal happiness,
with Enoch and Melchizedek, with Abraham and Job, with
Elijah and Daniel, his most important supplication, " 0 my
Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass from me!" would
not have been denied.
But if it was necessary that this evidence should be pos11*




126              DISCOURSES ON THE
sessed by mankind, still it might have been furnished, and
that in many ways, without the death of tile son of God.
The resurrection of the Body is one of the doctrines of
the Bible and depends like every other doctrine on the
general evidence that the Bible is the word of God. The
question whether we have sufficient evidence of this particular doctrine depends therefore on the more general question
whether we have sufficient evidence of the inspiration of
the Scriptures; for both must stand or fall together. For
evidence of the divine inspiration of the Scriptures, we
look to prophecies, to miracles, and to historical testimony,
as well as to the writings themselves. Of the miracles
which furnish this evidence, one, and a very important one,
is the resurrection of Christ, but it no more fully proves
it than the miracle of the five loaves, the raising of Lazarus, the gift of tongues, or the healing of the impotent man
at the beautiful gate of the temple.  Of the resurrection
of Christ there were no eye-witnesses but the Roman
guard, who have not left us their testimony; and no one
saw him after his resurrection except his personal friends.
The eye-witnesses of these other miracles were very numerous, many of them  the open enemies of Christianity, and
the great body of them alive at the time of his death. The
Apostles appeal to this fact with at least as strong confidence as to the resurrection of Christ: " Jesus of Nazareth, a man approved of God among you, by miracles, and
signs and wonders, which God wrought by him in the midst
of you, as ye yourselves know."  The earthquake at the
time of his resurrection, and the fact that his body was missing from the sepulchre, appear for the space of fifty days
to have produced no effect at Jerusalem in persuading its
inhabitants to believe in him as the Messiah.  The gift of
tongues and the healing of the impotent man at- the most




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 127
public gate of the temple at the hour of prayer, wrought
in the name of Christ before assembled thousands, were
appealed to by his Apostles as evidence of his resurrection
and of the truth of Christianity, " Ye killed the Prince of
life," says Peter, " whom God hath raised from the dead;
whereof we are witnesses; and his name, through faith in
his name, hath made this man strong whom  ye see and
know; yea, the faith which is in him hath given him this
perfect soundness in the presence of you all." After the
evidence furnished by these two miracles, many thousands
on the spot were converted to Christianity, but for fifty
days the evidence furnished by Christ's resurrection did
not convert even one.  At the present time, also, we can
prove these two miracles more directly, and at least as conclusively to the infidel, as we can the resurrection of Christ.
It may be said that the actual raising of Christ's body is
the appropriate evidence of the doctrine of a general resurrection as it furnishes an example of the fact.  I answer,
the raising of the body of Lazarus, after he had been
dead four days, proves as fully that a dead body can be
raised as the raising of Christ. About his actual death
there is less dispute; he had been longer dead, and the
witnesses of the fact were far more numerous.  It may be
said that the case of Lazarus was a recalling to life, but
not in the appropriate sense a resurrection-i. e. not a
transformation of his corpse into a spiritual and glorified
body.  It is true; and from  the fact that Christ's body
when raised was flesh and bones, and that he ate with his
disciples, it has been extensively doubted whether his body
came forth from the tomb a spiritual and glorified body, or,
whether, like the bodies of Enoch and Elijah, it was transfigured at the time. of his ascension.  We can maintain,
therefore, that in point of fact evidence at least as conclu



128              DISCOURSES ON THE
sive of the truth of Christianity, and of the doctrine of a
resurrection, has been furnished not only to the men of that
age, but to those of every subsequent period.
But we are not compelled to maintain this position. The
question is not, whether adequate evidence of a general
resurrection is not furnished, but whether it could not be
furnished without the death and resurrection of Christ;
and on this point there can be no doubt. John the Baptist
was as well known by the Jewish nation as Jesus. All
Jerusalem and Judea had gone out to the banks of the
Jordan to hear his instructions and to be baptized.  Tle
was beheaded by Herod on a most public occasion, and his
dissevered head was brought in and exhibited before the
whole of his court, in a charger.  IIis death was known
throughout all Judea, and Christ knew beforehand that he
was to die.  I-e might, therefore, most publicly have predicted John's death and resurrection, and staked his own
character as the Messiah on the fulfilment of that prediction.  Christ was certainly as able to raise up John as to
raise up himself, and there would have been one most essential advantage. Those infidels, who regard the evangelists as well-meaning and honest, but deceived men,
always insist that Christ was not dead but merely in a
swoon when he was taken down from the cross and put into
the sepulchre; and that instead of being raised to life, he
merely came to, on the first day of the week.  But the
actual decapitation of John would have left no room for
this allegation. If then Christ, on some most public occasion, had raised up John from the dead, and he had appeared again preaching repentance, baptizing, and announcing Jesus as " the Lamb of God, who taketh away
the sin of the world," while the whole Jewish nation would
have been witnesses of the astonishing miracle, Christ




DEATH OF CHRIST.                129
would have redeemed his pledge and proved the truth of
Christianity, and in particular the doctrine of the resurrection, by evidence which no one could possibly gainsay.
Again. God could with perfect ease have raised up
hundreds or thousands of his children in every generation,
and that, too, after their bodies had seen corruption and:
begun to moulder into dust; and when they had re-existed
lonog enough on earth to establish the fact and to furnish
the necessary evidence, could have placed them on the
same footing with Enoch and Elijah in heaven.  To do
this would have been certainly no more difficult than it will
be to raise them at the last day.  These men would have
been a constant succession of living witnesses to the truth
of this most cheering doctrine, as well as of the whole of
Christianity. The proof would have been before our eyes
and would have needed no help of argument, whereas, we
are now driven to a long and laborious process of reasoning to establish the fact of Christ's resurrection: before we
can prove by it the general resurrection or the truth of
Christianity.  Surely then it was possible in either of the
ways pointed out, that the cup of suffering should pass from
the Son of God.  His sufferings and death were absolutely
unnecessary, as evidence at least as conclusive of the doctrine of the resurrection might have been furnished, if he
had not died.
4. On what principle, if this be true, can we explain the
interest felt in the death of Christ, both in heaven and on
earth?  What means that anxious search for ages on the
part of angels; that bending over, that they might look
into the sufferings of Christ and the glory that stlould follow?  When the resurrection of the body was revealed to
them by God, was it so incredible that they waited in mute
suspense for the development of evidence before they would




130              DISCOURSES ON THE
believe it? Why, too, those praises to the Lamb that was'
slain?  Had he died to redeem  the bodies of the dead
from the grave, I can see why saints and angels should
rejoice in this event. But he died, not to redeem, but
merely to furnish evidence that God intended to raise
them. Was this evidence wanting in heaven? Are they
so faithless in the upper world that they cannot believe the
word' and promise of Jehovah, unless it is confirmed by the
crucifixion of his Son, and yet, when their unbelief at
length gave way, did they indeed break forth into one
united song of praise because the sanguinary demonstation
was furnished, and they could doubt no more? And do
their minds so heave with rapture at the discovery of this
evidence, that their new song of praise to the Lamb, who
was slain to furnish it, must continue forever and ever?
How also shall we explain that unwonted meeting on the
top of Tabor. When Enoch and Elijah had already ascended to heaven, each in a spiritual and glorified body,
and there had been presented as the first fruits of the redeemer's victory over the grave; when the patriarch of
Uz could rejoice because after worms had devoured his
body, still in his flesh he should see God; when David,
speaking in the person of Christ, could say, " Thou wvilt
not leave my soul in Hades, neither wilt thou suffer thine
HIoly One to see corruption;" and when the gracious promise had been given to Israel by Hosea, " I will ransom
thee from the power of the grave; I will redeem thee from
death: 0 death, I will be thy plague, O grave, I will be
thy destruction;" was it, indeed, an achievement so hard
for the Almighty to perform, so difficult for heaven as well
as earth to believe, that He who spake from  the overshadowing cloud must come down with Moses and Elijah




DEATH OF CHRIST.               131
-to converse with Him who was to die upon the cross that
he might furnish the long-wished for evidence?
Is this the reason why the sacred writers attached so
much importance to the death of Christ? Does God commend his love toward us in that while we were yet sinners
Christ furnished evidence of the resurrection? and could
Paul glory in nothing but in the fact that that evidence was
furnished? Why also these peculiar titles which no one
else can claim? Do lambs reason and furnish evidence;lambs that are slain, and by means of their blood; and,
when they have done it, do we say that they have redeemed us; and does evidence of the resurrection " take
away the sin of the world?"  By discovering this evidence
to us, does Christ save us from wrath, and hence gain the
title of the Saviour of the world?  Was the curse of the
law that state of doubt and uncertainty from which he re.
deemed us by proving that God would raise the dead?
And did he say to his weeping disciples around the sacra.
mental board,'" This is my blood of the new dispensation
which is shed for many, to prove the resurrection of the
body?"
5. On this supposition, why did he die so early in his
ministry? His ministry, as we have seen, continued only
three years and a half, and closed with his death; for after
his resurrection, though he appeared in various instances
to his disciples, yet he wrought no miracles, and communicated no instructions to the people at large and almost
none even to his disciples-expressly reserving this office
to the Comforter, whom he would send from the Father.
But surely he whose motto it was, " I must be about my
Father's business"-" I must work the work of him who
sent me while it is day;" he who spent life in going about
doing good, was not so soon wearied out by communicating




132              DISCOURSES ON THE
instructions fresh from heaven, and working miracles of
mercy, that in three years he wished to leave off and die.
Would not even one of us, imperfect as we are, if we could
possess the same wisdom, and exert the same power, be
willing to spend a far longer period in restoring the sick
and the distracted, the deaf, the maimed and the blind, in
raising the dead, and in imparting that truth which would
prepare our fellow-men for heaven. How then could he
say the night before his death, " Father, I have glorified
thee on earth; I have finished the work which thou gavest
me to do;" or on the Cross, "It is finished," when not a
syllable of the New Testament was written, and but a
small part of it communicated.  Surely he might have
died, if die he must to furnish evidence, at the age of
seventy; and if, too, he must be crucified for that purpose,
he might have been crucified then. The death of a man
of seventy, who is crucified, can be as certain, and it is at
least as great a miracle to raise him to life, and therefore
furnishes as strong evidence of that which he died to prove,
as if he were only thirty-five.
6. On this supposition, what is the meaning of the scene
in Gethsemane. The death of the cross was not a new
and surprizing subject.  It had been prophesied for four
thousand years; it had been the familiar subject of his
contemplation through life, it was the very death which he
came into the world to suffer, which he went from Galilee
to Jerusalem on purpose to suffer, which he had just instituted the sacramental supper to commemorate, and concerning which he had just said, " I have a baptism wherewith to be baptized, and how am I straitened till it be
accomplished." His conduct in the garden surely was not
owing to weakness, or an effeminate fear of death. It was
not owing to his mistake in apprehending the sufferings of




DISCOURSES: ON THE              133
the ensuing day to be inconceivably more distressing than
they actually proved. All he had to do was to be known
to die, and then to come to life, in: order to prove the truth
of Christianity or the doctrine of the resurrection.  Why
-then,: when he was without sin, and had the Spirits without
-measure, and possessed an understanding so powerful, and
a knowledge of the divine purposes so:extensive, and such
testimonials of the Father's love; when in him dwelt all
the fulness of the Godhead bodily; when a little before on
Mount- Tabor he had met not. only Moses and Elijah, but
the Father of glory on the subject of this very death, and
there had been transfigured and appeared in the glory of
heaven; when all- heaven was waiting in: earnest expectation to see evidence either of the truth of Christianity, or
of the-doctrine of the Resurrection furnished to mankind
by his death, and were all preparing to re-tune their harps
for -that "' new song," which was forever to commemorate
the achievement of furnishing this evidence; and when he
knew that he should come to life in three days; why, I ask,
in the name of sober reason, why this overwhelming horror
and amazement; why this thrice repeated. cry of anguish
with the face upon the ground," 0 my Father, if it be possible let this cup pass from me;" why that ineffable agony
and sweat of blood, which forced an angel down from
heaven to comfort and sustain the holy Sufferer?  Ah!
was it that he found mere bodily suffering so much that in
these circumstances he could not go through with what he
had undertaken; and with all these helps to sustain him
did he, indeed, through the fear of mere death, cry out
thrice,  O0 my Father! if it be possible, let me not be
crucified, and then rise from the dead, to prove the doctrine of the Resurrection?"  With all these helps and
supports was he thus overwhelmed, when Peter and Paul,
12




134              DISCOURSES ON THE
with scarcely one of them, and with no expectation of rising again on the third day, met the very same death with
tranquillity and even with triumph?
7. Why, if this theory be true, was his death violent
and ignominious? The argument is this: That the miracle
of coming back to life after he was actually dead and
known to be dead, proves the doctrine of the resurrection.
But there are other modes of dying, and of being certainly
known to be dead, besides crucifixion.  Death is not so
difficult an achievement in this dying world, that one must
resort to a violent, ignominious and excruciating death, in
order to die. And when one is really dead, the fact is so
far from being a difficult one to prove, that it proves itself.
The man who dies of a fever, in a few days is as certainly
known to be dead, as if he had died upon the cross. The
infamy, the violence, the tortures, do not add an iota to the
certainty of the fact.  It is also as great a miracle to be
raised from the dead, when one is dead in one way, as in
another. The raising of Lazarus, after he had been dead
four days, was as direct an exertion of the power of God,
as it would have been if he had been crucified.  The violence and the torture of the death of Jesus were therefore
needless, and the infamy was even worse; for his cross was
to the Jews "' a stumbling-block," and to the Greeks " foolishness;" and the former, we have seen, have ever reproached Christianity by denominating it, "' The religion of
him who was hanged." Yet all this infamy, and violence,
and torture, so useless as to the purpose for which he died,
so injurious to the extension of his religion, and so distressing to the Saviour himself, we are told by Peter, were only
"what the hand and the counsel of God had determined
before to be done."
Had Christ publicly predicted his own death as destined




DEATH OF CHRIST.                135
Certainly to occur on a given day and in a given place, and
his resurrection on a given number of days or weeks afterwards; had he actually died when the given day arrived,
and remained dead the specified time, and at the close of
it had he returned to life, the attention of numberless witnesses would have been excited, and the fact of his being
dead could have been as fully determined as it can now
be; and by his appearing alive in the midst of his enemies
for months or years afterwards, the evidence of his resurrection would have been far more clear and palpable than
it is at present. The whole scene of shame and anguish
through which he passed in the council-room  of the Sanhedrim, in the palace of Herod, in the hall of Pilate, and
on Calvary-the buffeting, the spitting in the face, the
smiting on the cheek with the palms of the hands, the
scourging, the crowning with thorns, the bearing of the
cross, the piercing of his hands and his feet with the nails,
the racking of his frame, and his public infamous death as
a malefactor between two thieves, though appointed by
God, and distinctly predicted by Isaiah, were only so much
unnecessary torment; doing no good to mankind, not in the
least increasing the evidence which he was aiming to furnish, and answering no purpose whatever except to inflict
extreme and useless misery on One who was perfectly innocent and holy, and concerning whom God the Father twice
said in an audible voice from heaven,'" This is my beloved
Son in whom I am well pleased." In the view of such a
statement we inquire, in the language of Nicodemus,
" Iow can these things be?"
8. How also, if this scheme be true, shall we explain
the circumstances of his death. Was the unchangeable
Jehovah, who a little while before had manifested on Mount
Tabor such high approbation of his conduct, and of " the




136              DISCOURSES ON THE
death which he was to accomplish at Jerusalem," while if
was only in prospect, so soon changed in his feelings, and
displeased with him when that death was actually -taking
place?  No:mental sufferings on the cross could make his
rising from the dead a greater miracle, or furnish.stronge'r.
evidence of -the resurrection of the body. -Why then did
"it please Jehovah to bruise hims"  " to put him to grief,'
and.c "to lay on: him- the iniquities of us all?'"  Why did:
he hide his face from  hinm and. compel- him: to exclaim' Why hast thou forsaken me?'" when he was merely.
dying to prove the resurrection of the dead, and when he
merited as well as needed Iis presence and Mhis love more
than at any other period of his existence?  Is this the
manner in which God treats his most faithful servants in
the hour of their extremity?  And should you ask Stephen, or Paul, or the great cloud of martyrs ~who are now
on high, whether they were thus forsaken? would they
answer, Yes?  Had the sun, also, as he rolled around this
world of carnage for four thousand years, been so little
used to scenes of horror that -he must hide his face because he could not look down on one who was dying to
prove the doctrine of the resurrection?  Had the earth
drunk in so little murdered blood,- " from the days; of righteous Abel to the days of Zechariabh the son of Barachiah.'"
that she, too, must quake at such a spectacle? and the
very captives of the tomb start from their iron sleep, and
break their fetters and their prison?
9. On tlhis supposition, why was Christ seen so rarely
after his resurrection; and why, also, merely by his friends.
If the fact, that he was to die in order to furnish evidence
of the doctrine of the resurrection, had been divinely ap.
pointed, and long and often predicted, and eagerly expected and desired both in heaven and onl earth  and had




DEATH OF CHRIST.               13 7
occasioned the vision of glory on Tabor, and the scene of
horror in Gethsemane, and the scene of universal convulsion, of darkness and of death on Calvary, surely it be:
hoved him to render this evidence as irresistible and over
whelming as it could be made. Yet, during the forty days
of his residence on earth after his resurrection, he chiefly
kept himself aloof even from his disciples, and was not
seen by one of his enemies. The greater part of this
period he was,-we know not where,-and only appeared,
as we have already seen, ten times-five on the day of his
resurrection, and five more during the thirty-nine following
days of his continuance on earth. Of these ten instances,
three were to solitary individuals-to Mary Magdalene, to
Peter, and to James; two were to two individuals together
-the first to Mary Magdalene and the other Mary, and
the second to Cleopas and his companion, on the way to
Emmaus; three were to the eleven; one was to more than
five hundred at once; and one to the eleven Apostles certainly, and perhaps to others. But in no one of these instances were any of the enemies of Christianity, or any
except his avowed followers present. But if to furnish
evidence of the truth of Christianity, or of the doctrine of
the resurrection, was the great object for which he died
and rose again, why did he not, as he was personally known
to almost all the population of Jerusalemn, as well as to the
Sanhedrim, why did he not go into the city, and exhibit
himself publicly in the temple, and to all the inhabitants.
He knew the pretence of the Jews, that his disciples had
come by night and stolen his body away while the guard
were asleep. How easy would it have been to put down
this falsehood, by0his appearing day after day before the
whole multitude, and thus enabling his Apostles to turn to
him and say, " Behold JEsJus of Nazareth whom ye cruci12*




138             ]DISCOURSES ON TWI
fled, whom God hath raised from the dead!'"  What sensga
tions would this have excited throughout Jerusalem'; where
would his enemies have hid themselves; and what would have
become of the story that his disciples stole away his body.
What would have been the excitement on the day of Pentecost, if, instead of: Peter relating the story of his resurrection, he had come himself to the beautiful gate of the
temple,'and there had:said to the countless thousands, as
he said to Thomas, " Behold my hands and my feet: see,
here are the prints of the nails."  He foreknew, or, if he
did not, the Father foreknew, that the fact of his resurrection would be questioned by infidels in every age, on this
very ground, that he never was seen except by his personal
friends. Why then, if furnishing evidence was the moving
spring of this astonishing event, why did he not, when it
was a thing so easy, furnish evidence of his resurrection,
which would have banished every doubt, and hushed skepticism into perpetual silence. Never had- any one the staff
in his own hand so emphatically as. Christ had- after his
resurrection; and if to furnish evidence of that resurrection, and thereby of the truth of Christianity, or the doctrine of a general resurrection, was the- great point at
which he was aiming, he was guilty of an extreme oversight, a palpable'folly in his mode of using it, which I hope
the advocates of this theory, even those who regard him
as s" a fallible, peccable man," will not impute to- HI, who,
for some reason or other, was called, not only THE SON OF
GOD, and THE SAVIOUR OF THE WORLD,:but THE WORD,
WHO WAS IN THIE BEGINNING WITH GOD, AND WAS GOD.
10. We object to this theory, that-it contravenes all the
language of the Scriptures concerning the death of Christ.
If the phrase, to die for us, might possibly have included
within its largest meaning, to die in order-to furnish us with




DEATH OF C1HRIST.                19 9
evidence of the resurrection of the body, yet an adduction
of all the instances in which it occurs, proves that according to its settled uniform use by the scriptural writers, it has
in fact:no such meaning.  But the phrase, dying for our
sins, will admit of no such interpretation. Surely the great
sin of man was not the want of evidence of the resurrection.  Still less, if possible, can we force this meaning on
the phrase, dying for the forgiveness of our sins. ~Did God
refuse to forgive mankind because they had not been furnished with adequate evidence of the resurrection of the
dead.  What shall we say then of his dying as a sin-offering?  Was the lamb for a sin-offering daily sacrificed that
he mioht come to life again, and thus furnish evidence that
God could raise the dead? What of his dying as an atonement for sin?  Were the demands of the law satisfied and:the sins of mankind forgiven in consequence of the discovery of evidence? Did God refuse to be reconciled to men,:in consequence of their ignorance of this doctrine?  Does
furnishing evidence mean the same thing as bearing our
sins in his own body on the tree?  Was ignorance of the
resurrection what the Apostle meant by the curse of the
law, the penalty which it threatens to transgression? and
did he redeem us from the curse of the law by proving the
resurrection of the body?  Until we are prepared to admit
-that the language of the Scriptures can mean any thing,
and every thing, and nothing; it is impossible for us to
believe that to furnish evidence of a general resurrection
was the great end of the Redeemer's death.
VI. It is said that the Great End of the death of Christ
was to prove the truth  of Christianity.  Against this
scheme I should allege the following objections:
1. It is highly derogatory to the character of God. It




140              DISCOURSES ON THE
supposes that the all-wise God, when he communicates a
religion to mankind, cannot evince the truth or the divine
origin of that religion, unless he gives his only begotten
Son to die to prove its authenticity. Yet men, when they
utter truth to each other, are not obliged to suffer martyrdom  in order to evince that truth; and when they send
messengers to each other, these messengers are not obliged
to die in order to furnish evidence of their mission.  Were
this the case, God would have less power and less wisdom
than man.
2. It contradicts known facts.  God made revelations of
his will to the patriarchs, and furnished them  with evidence that the revelations came from himself, without commissioning some one to die, in order to prove their divine
origin. He also communicated a new religion to the Israelites by Moses, and was able to evince its truth and its
authenticity, without the crucifixion of his Son, or even
that of Moses or Aaron.  In the same way, therefore, as
well as in many other ways, he might have proved the truth
of Christianity, and the divine mission of his Son, without
subjecting him to an ignominious and excruciating death.
The resurrection of John the Baptist or of Stephen, or
any other miracle equally great and surprising, if wrought
in attestation of the truth of Christianity, would have been
equally conclusive evidence of its truth, with the death and
resurrection of Christ.  Why, then, when the beloved Son
of God, who was'" holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate
from sinners,"' cried out in his agony, " O my Father, if it
be possible, let this cup pass from me!" —was not his most
earnest prayer heard and answered?  Was the import of
that prayer,'" If it be possible to prove the truth of the
religion which I have taught, without my crucifixion, let
me not be crucified?"




DEATH OF CHIRIST.                141
3. The death of Christ apart from his resurrection, does
not: prove the truth of Christianity, but merely his own integrity.  Christ also never mentions his own death as evidence of the truth of his religion.  He often appealed to
the prophecies, to his own miracles, to the testimony of
the Father, to his knowledge of the heart, and to the evidence inherent in his instructions, as conclusive proof that
his religion is divine, but never announced the fact that he
should suffer death to furnish additional evidence.  The
Apostles- are equally silent on this head, and their uniform
language, with regard to the object of his death proves
that this idea never entered their minds. And with regard
to his resurrection, conscious that the Jews had not seen
him after it took place, they allege the many "1 miracles,
signs, and wonders," which he had wrought before their
eyes, the gift of tongues, and their own miracles which
they were daily working, as evidence that he was risen, and
that he was the Messiah*.
4. On this supposition, his death occurred at a most unfortunate period.  No part of the New Testament then
existed, or for a considerable number of years afterwards,
and a large part had not been even orally communicated
to the Apostles.  Christianity, as a system  of truths, did
not exist, except in the imperfect and uncertain recollections of the Apostles. All the facts and truths which they
had forgotten, as well as all which had not been communicated were lost by his death.  The only hope that the
former would be recovered, depended on the declaration of
Christ, " When He, the Spirit of truth is come, he shall
bring all things to your remembrance, whatsoever I have
$ The reader is referred to the remarks on the preceding theory as equally applicable to this.




142             DISCOURSES ON THE
said unto you;" and the only hope that the latter would
ever be known, depended on the similar declaration, " I
have yet many things to say unto you, but ye cannot bear
them now. Howbeit, when He, the Spirit of truth, is
come, he will guide you into all the truth. He shall receive of mine, and shall show it unto you."  If, then,
Christ died to prove the truth of Christianity, why did he
not defer it until Christianity existed, until his disciples were
able to bear the communication of it from his lips-until it
was all communicated and written down, and the New Testament completed under his own hand and seal. Had this
been done, and had Jesus taken the volume thus finished,
and declared, " I am now going to die, in order to prove
the truth of this volume," the transaction would have had
something in it definite and palpable. But what was the
identical thing then existing, which his death proved to be
true? Was it the collections of facts and sentiments which
the Apostles recollected, or was it those which they had
forgotten, and which the Holy Spirit was to bring to their
remembrance, or was it the farther collection which they
could not bear while Christ was living, and which the Holy
Spirit was first to communicate?
5. This scheme will not satisfactorily account for the
high importance imputed to the death of Christ both in
heaven and on earth.  When the angels knew that God
could work any possible miracle, to evince the divine mission of his Son, and the truth of his religion, could they
have been so anxious to look into the sufferings of Christ, if
the great object of his death had been to furnish evidence
which might have been as fully furnished if it had never
taken place? Was the convocation on Tabor summoned
merely to consult and decide on the best mode of furnish



DEATH OF CHRIST.               143
ing evidence?  Was it because ten thousand times ten
thousand and thousands of thousands of angels, and the
four living ones, and the four and twenty elders regarded
it as so difficult an achievement to furnish adequate evidence of the truth of Christianity, so far beyond the reach
of any other miracle which Almighty God could work,
that, when they saw it accomplished by the death of
Christ, they broke out enraptured into that NEW SONG,
which has often but erroneously been called the Song of
Redeeming Love, but which should be called the Song of
Demonstration, and did they say, "s Worthy is the Lamb,
who was slain to prove the truth of Christianity, to receive
honour, and glory, and blessing?"
6. If this be true, what obligations did the ancient
saints owe to the Saviour.  They lived, and served God,
and died, and ascended to heaven, without this evidence.
If, then, we admit, that to redeem, means the same thing
as, to furnish evidence of the truth of Christianity, still
they were not redeemed, for they had arrived in heaven
before the evidence was furnished.  IHow then could they
unite in the ascription, "lThou art worthy, for thou hast
redeemed us to God by thy blood?" Again: If this was
the salvation effected by Christ, as they were saved without
the knowledge of the evidence which he furnished, Christ
was in no sense of the word their Saviour; and if thzey
were saved without Christ, so might we have been. as well
as they, and so might all mankind.  There is therefore
salvation in another than he; and there is some other name
given under heaven among men, whereby they may be
saved. The death of Christ, therefore, unless we blasphemously suppose it to have been the result of wanton and
unparalleled cruelty, was founded on a mistake, and his
whole mission was the result of a very doubtful necessity.




144              DISCOURSES ON THE
7. We cannot in this way explain any of the titles which
are given him  in consequence of his mediatorial work.
Why did Christ merit the title of " The Lamb," "' The
Lamb slain," and " The Lamb of God."  Is it the office of
a lamb to demonstrate?  Christ resembled a lamb, in that
he was innocent, gentle, patient under sufferings, and in
being slain as a sacrifice, but surely not in furnishing evidence. Neither is evidence the same thing with salvation,
redemption or deliverance from wrath.
8. This theory furnishes a totally different explanation
of this event from that officially assigned by Christ himself
when he instituted the Eucharist: " This is my blood,
which is shed for the remission of sins."  Sins are positive
transgressions of the law of God, and the forgiveness of
them is the remission of their punishment.  No torture of
language, therefore, can make the forgiveness of sins the
same with evidence of the truth of Christianity. The sins
of men are not owing, solely nor chiefly, to want of evidence; nor has the, evidence, which the death of Christ
actually furnished, put a stop to sin. This theory cannot
therefore be true, unless Christ himself was mistaken.
9. It gives no adequate explanation of his sufferings in
the garden.  Why must that agony exist at all?  It did
not augment the evidence of Christianity, and we hear of
no similar event in the annals of martyrdom.  Why, still
more, must it rise to the hazard of life?  If it was proper
for him to go deliberately and die, merely to prove the
truth of his religion, then his conduct was wholly approved
by God; and he had no sufferings to endure but sufferings
of the body. - It was then the mere dread of bodily pain
which led him thrice in deep prostration to pray that the
cup might pass from him, which occasioned the sweat of
blood, and made him need the presence of the sustaining




DEATH OF: CHRIST.                 145
angel.  And when he enjoyed the highest love of the
Father, and had_ the Spirit without measure, and:was to
remain. dead but three days, and then was to leave the
grave in triumph;.when he- was to redeem  and to save the
-world by furnishing evidence of- the truth;of his religion,
and in forty days:was to ascend -to heaven and sit down on
the right hand of God, it was simply the fear of dying
which led him,. unlike thousands of his followers, to shrink
from  that- martyrdom: which he came into the world to
suffer.
10. The scene on Calvary, also, is a mystery equally
inexplicable.  As God approved of the purpose of his
death, and he suffered, not in our stead, but to furnish
evidence, no anger of God against our sins was manifested
in his sufferings.  God, therefore, did not lay on him the
iniquities of us all, and it did not. please Jehovah to bruise
him and put him to grief. - The darkness of the sun, too,
at the time of the full moon, was doubtless owing to an
ordinary eclipse;- the earthquake was an accidental circumstance; and the evangelist was mistaken in supposing
that many of the dead came forth from their sepulchres!
11.:The whole conduct of -Christ after his resurrection
proves that this theory is erroneous;* and there is no one
of the phrases employed. by the Scriptural writers to
account for his death by which it is not explicitly contradicted.f
As an appendage to this part of the subject, it is proper
here to add, in the language of another, that " many,"
who reject the Atonement, " are dissatisfied with all these
x See the 9th head of the last general division.
f See the 10th head of the same. The argument in each case is applicable here, but to avoid repetition is omitted.
13




146              DISCOURSES ON THE
explanations, and think that the Scriptures ascribe the remission of sins to Christ's death, with an emphasis so
peculiar, that they ought to consider that event as having
a special influence in removing punishment, as a condition
or method of pardon, without which repentance would not
avail us, at least to that extent which is now promised in
the Gospel."*
It will probably be thought, that this scheme of explaining the death of Christ, as it is embraced by many, should
like the preceding ones, be subjected to a minute examination. To decline doing this is the result, not of choice,
but of necessity. Were it fully bodied forth, so as to be
tangible or even visible, it would be numbered as a seventh
theory, and carefully investigated. But when it is said
that without the death of Christ as a condition or method
of pardon, repentance would not avail us in procuring it,
at least to that extent which is now promised in the Gospel, we are at a loss how to interpret the language, and
we look for additional information on the following points:
1. Is it intended that repentance by itself would procure
us an inferior kind of pardon less advantageous than that
now promised; or that it would avail us to a certain
degree in procuring that now promised, but not altogether; or that it actually procures the pardon of a certain
portion of our sins, but not of the remainder?
2. To what kind of pardon, on the first supposition; to
what degree, on the second; and to how great a part of it,
on the third; would repentance avail us, without the death
of Christ?
3. On what grounds would repentance avail us, to that
kind; that degree; or that portion?
$ Rev. Dr. Channing's Sermon.at the Ordination of Rev. Jared Sparks.




DEATE OP CHRIST.                 147
4. Why would not repentance also avail us either to the
higher kind; or altogether; or to procure the remainder?
5. On what grounds does the death of Christ avail us in
thus effecting what mere Repentance could not avail? Is
it directly, as obedience, or suffering; or indirectly, as it
leads us by its moral influence to a higher kind of repentance?
6. What is the specific difference between those two
kinds, or degrees, or portions of our pardon?
7. On the third supposition, why cannot the death of
Christ, alone and of itself, avail us in procuring also that
part of our pardon, which repentance avails us to procure?
8. What passages of Scripture speak of such an inferior
kind of pardon; or of the degree to which repentance
avails us; or of the portion of our sins for which it is sufficient?
9. In what passages of Scripture is the death of Christ
spoken of as procuring a higher kind of pardon; or as
eking out our pardon, by availing us to an extent to which
repentance could not avail us?  Is it said by the Saviour,
"' This is my blood of the New Testament, which is shed
to procure a better kind of pardon than that which repentance would procure;"-or by Paul, "' Christ hath fully
availed to redeem us from  the curse of the law, when repentance could avail us only in part;" or by John, " The
blood of Christ cleanseth —not from all sin, but-from
those more heinous sins, which could not be washed away
by the tears of repentance?
Until these points are distinctly stated, it is not possible
to conjecture what the theory is, nor of course, by comparing with the word of God, to learn whether it is true
or false. This is the only reason, why a more minute and
marked attention is not paid to what, if fully conceived




148              DISCOURSES ON TEI
and fully stated, might have proved an additional explanation of this most wonderful event.-,
Thus have I endeavoured  to: examine, the various theories devised to account for the death of Christ- by those
who insist that mankind need no expiatory sacrifice to save
them from punishment.  As they have successively passed
in review before us, it has appeared, if I mistake not, that
each one of them is utterly inconsistent not only iwith reason, but with the known phenomena attending the event,
and with the plain explanations given of it in the Scriptures. On this point, however, as well as on every other
connected with religion, it is at once your privilege and
your duty, not, as in the days of types and shadows, to
learn from those who minister at the altar, what you must
believe and do, but to come in person to the tabernacle of
the testimony, and hear for yourselves the voice of HIm
who dwells therein. What that voice utters is distinct,
and uniform, and level to the coimprehension of those to
whom it speaks. Listen to it, then, with attention and
candor-w-ith humility and contrition, and you will not err.
In completing the plan originally proposed, you may
perhaps expect, as the opinions of those who receive the
doctrine of the Atonement- are: on various points discordant, that their several systems should be separately stated
and examined.  These: differences of opinion, however,
are rather circumstantial than essential; and it is the
design of these discourses, not to combat any one class of
opinions, nor to defend any other, but simply to answer
the question, WVly did Jesus the Maiessiah die tpon the
Cross?  All that now remains, therefore, is —to state what
is regarded as the scriptural doctrine of Atonement., and




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 149
then to compare it with the series of facts already recited,
and with the plain declarations of the Word of God.
ATONEMENT is a word of extensive import, and needs to
be explained.
Wherever one individual has a claim on another, the latter owes the first a corresponding duty. This duty may be
either performed or not performed. If it is performed, the
claim is discharged. If it is not performed, the failure
either does not involve blame, or it does. If it does not involve blame, it is owing to some circumstance not originally contemplated, which, either for a time or permanently,
renders it wrong for the one party to enforce the claim,
and right for the other not to perform the duty. For such
a failure, the party who originally owed the duty, need do
nothing but show an excuse, viz. the circumstance which
removes blame from the failure.*
If the failure does involve blame, an injury is done to
him whose claim has not been satisfied. For this injury,
a full and entire reparation is due; something which shall
make full amends to the party injured, and leave him in as
good a condition, as if the duty had been exactly performed.
There are injuries for which it is possible to make adequate reparation-such as the non-payment of a debt, or
the non-rendition of a service when due; and others for
which it is not possible to make such reparation-such as
the transgression of a law.  In cases of injury, the offended party has the same right to enforce reparation
where it can be made, as he had before the injury to
enforce the original claim. In cases where no adequate
reparation can be made, if the offended party sustain
q This is the only proper use of the word excuse; for plainly that and
that only is an excuse which excuses or frees froan blame. A bad excuse,
therefore, is no excuse.
13*




150               DISCOJURSES ON THE
towards the offender the relation of a ruler to a subject,
and the injury clone is the transgression of a law, he has a
right to inflict such an amount of suffering, as will be a
just and adequate expression of his anger for the injury
done.  Where -reparation can be made, the offender also is
as much bound to make: it as he was to perform the original
duty; and where it cannot be made, if the offended has a
right to inflict suffering, the offender is equally bound to
submit to that suffering.
The kinds of treatment, which the offended party may
adopt towards the offender, are various.- He may strictly
enforce reparation, in a case where reparation is possible:;
or, where it is not, and the right -to inflict suffering exists,
may inflict suffering, until his displeasure for the injury is
adequately expressed.  Or he may, without either reparation or infliction of suffering, treat the offender as if he had
done him no injury; and thus, without any ground or consideration, relinquish both the right to reparation, and the
original claim.  Or, in consequence of something done or
suffered, in be'half of the offender, which-, either conditionally or unconditionally, he consents to regard as an adequate reparation, or an adequate manifestation of displeasure, for the injury sustained; he may forgive the offender, and treat him as if he had, not failed to: perform  the
given duty, If the agreement to receive the thing done
or suffered, as an adequate reparation, or an adequate
manifestation of displeasure, for- the injury, be unconditional, the offended party is bound.to forgive the offender,
and treat him as if he had not offended.  If it be conditional, this obligation does not commence until.the condition is complied with.
These remarks will serve to explain the general meaning
of the word Atonement.  AN ATONEMENT IS TRHE GROUND




DEATH OF CHRIST.                  151
OP ORGIVING- AN INJURY.  By an injury, is here intended,
a blame-worthy failure of a duty. The atonement is in all
cases something done or suffered, either by the offender,
or a third party in his behalf.  If it is something done, the
offended consents to receive it as an adequate reparation,
and if suffered, as an adequate expression of his displeasure,
for the injury. The effect of it is, where it is unconditional,
or the condition is fiully complied with, to take from  the
offended party the right either to enforce reparation or to
inflict suffering.
What the ground of forgiveness is, will usually depend
on the nature of the injury.  The non-payment of a debt-,
or the non-rendition of a service which is due, is an injury
for which the subsequent reparation of the loss sustained
either by the offender or a third party, is an atonement.
The disobedience of a child is an injury to the parent.  If
the -child humbles himself, and confesses his fault, the parent may consent to regard such humiliation and confession
as an atonement.  Strictly speaking, however, it is not an
atonement, because there is neither reparation nor manifestation of displeasure, for the injury received; yet the
parent treats the child as if it were.
Disobedience to a law is an injury to the lawgiver, as it
is both a denial and a defiance of his authority.  That authority% is supported either by uniform  obedience, or by
punishment. Punishment is the infliction of suffering for
disobedience.  If wisely appointed, it is an adequate ex-.pression of the lawgiver's displeasure against transgression.
By showing practically that the way of transgressors is
hard, it is designed to support the authority of the law and
secure obedience.
In cases of transgression, atonement takes the place of
punishment. If the -punishment merited be -substantial




152              DISCOURSES ON THE
suffering, atonement cannot be made by the offender himself. He cannot make it by future obedience, for that he
is bound to render without any reference to past transgressions, merely to satisfy the future demands of the law.
lie cannot make it, by enduring a less degree of suffering
than the threatened penalty, for that would not be an adequate expression of the lawgiver's displeasure; nor by enduring a greater degree, for when he has endured a degree
of suffering equal to the penalty, the claims of the law are
satisfied, and any farther infliction is unjust. In every
such case, therefore, atonement, if made at all, must be
made by a third person.
Where the transgression is malumn in se, or a moral evil,
and the punishment merited is substantial suffering, atonement cannot be made by a third person, except by the infliction of suffering. It cannot be made, either by the
payment of money, or the rendition of service. If we admit that murder ought to be punished with death as an
adequate expression of the displeasure of the lawgiver
against this crime, and an adequate security against its
perpetration, to receive the payment of any amount of
money, or the rendition of any service, from a third person
in behalf of the murderer, as an atonement -for his murder,
is to declare that the given sum or service is a reparation
for the injury, and an adequate security against the perpetration of murder, which would be false.  In every such
case, therefore, if atonement is to be made at all, it must
not only be made by a third person, but it must be made
by the infliction of substantial suffering on the third persons
as a substitute for the punishment of the transgressor.
To render the atonement adequate, the suffering thus
inflicted on the third person need not, of course, be exactly
the same in kind, or equal in degree, with that which would




DEATH- OF CHRIST.:                 53
have been inflicted on the transgressor as a punishment.
The kind of suffering may be different; for,: if two kinds
of suffering are equal in degree, they equally answer the
end in view. - The degree of suffering necessary to render
the atonement adequate, will depend on the comparative:
importance of the third person and the transgressor, in the
view  of the subjects at large; and may be in different
cases, greater, equal, or less than that threatened in the
penalty.  All that is- necessary to render the atonement
adequate, is, this, that the suffering inflicted -be seen to be
as full an expression of the lawgiver's displeasure against
the offence, or as decisive evidence of his determination: to
support his law, as would have -been furnished by the actual punishment of the transgressor.  When this is done,
the whole, design of punishment is fully answered; and,
with perfect safety to the authority of the law, the transgressor may go unpunished. Such an atonement, however,
in order to be just, must be voluntary on the part of the
third person; and in order to be valid, must be consented
to by the lawgiver.
If the suffering inflicted on the third person be the specific suffering, that is, the same both in kind and degree,
with that: which, would have' been- inflicted on the transgressor, not only are the sufferings of the third person a
substitute for the sufferings of the transgressor, but the
third person himself is, in the strictest sense of the word,,
a substitute. for the transgressor.:In other words, while
making, atonement, he takes the -identical place which the
transgressor would have. occupied while being punished.
If the sufferings of the third person are different in kind
or degree from  those which would otherwise have been inflicted on the transgressor,-though the third person is not
strictly speaking the substitute of the transgressor, as he




154               DISCOURSES ON THE
does not while suffering take his precise place,-yet the
sufferings of the third person are a substitute for the sufferings of the transgressor. In every case of atonement,
therefore, the sufferings of the third person are a substitute
for the transgressor's sufferings; and where the former are
specifically the same in kind and degree as the latter, the
third person himself is also, in the strictest sense, the substitute of the transgressor.
If the atonement be attended with no conditions, the
transgressor's liability to punishment ceases as soon as it is
made. If it be attended with any condition, that condition
also must be complied with, before it can cease. Thus, if
a third party receive on himself an adequate manifestation
of the sovereign's displeasure for the desertion of an officer to the enemy, on the condition, that, if the deserter
will within one year return to his allegiance, he shall be
fully pardoned; if the deserter does not return to his allegiance, his liability to punishment, though suspended during the year, does not cease at all, and he is not entitled
to forgiveness.
Adequate Atonement for a moral transgression, is therefore such a degree of suffering, inflicted on a third person, with his consent, as shall be an adequate expression
of the lawgiver's displeasure against the transgressor, and
thus a substitute for his punishment, or the ground of his
forgiveness.
These remarks are explanatory of the Doctrine of
ATONEMENT BY THE DEATH  OF JESUS CHRIST.  That
doctrine supposes the following points:
That God is the rightful Sovereign of men, and as such
entitled to their obedience:
That his government over them is a government of law,
or a moral government; offering rewards to obedience, and
threatening punishment to disobedience:




DEATH OF CHRIST.               155
That mankind have universally disobeyed the Law of
God, and are therefore liable to punishment:
That the authority of God's Law, and the safety of his
empire, alike demand an adequate expression of the divine
displeasure against the sins of mankind:
And that nothing, which men can do or suffer —no works
of supererogation, no exhibition of contrition, no humiliation, no repentance, as well as no penance, or any other
sufferings less than those threatened by the Law-can be
a substitute for their punishment.
These points might, it is believed, be easily and most
clearly established; but they are now mentioned by way
of explanation, and not of discussion; as it is our present
design, merely to compare the various theories devised to
account for the death of Christ with the Scriptures themselves.
For man thus condemned, thus unable to deliver himself
from punishment, the doctrine of Atonement supposes that
the death of Christ was intended to be, and is in fact, a
full and adequate method of deliverance, and that in the
following manner. The sufferings and death of Christ
were inflicted by God, and voluntarily endured by himself,
as an adequate expression of God's displeasure against the
sins of the world, on condition that pardon should be freely
offered to all, and granted to those who actually repent
and trust in Christ for salvation.
This doctrine, as we understand it, does not suppose
that the sins of men were laid on Christ, in such a sense,
as to effect a transfer of their sinfulness.  Such a transfer
not only would have rendered Christ the most guilty, odious
being that ever can exist in the universe, but, as we have
already seen, is a physical impossibility.
Neither does it suppose the sins of men to be so laid on




156               DISCOURSES ON THE
Christ, that strictly speaking he endured the precise punishment both in kind and degree, to which they were doomed.
That punishment, as will be: admitted by all who may be
inclined to question this part of our explanation, was everlasting punishment in hell.  Unless therefore the sufferings
of Christ on the cross were identically the same thing. as
everlasting punishment in hell, the sufferings endured by
Christ were not, strictly speaking, the precise punishment
to which the human race were doomed.  Of course, it does
not suppose that Christ was strictly speaking, our substitute; i. e. that he endured the identical punishment, both
in kind and degree, to which mankind were doomed.
Neither does it suppose that the sins of men were so
laid on Christ, that his sufferings were equal in degree,
either to the everlasting sufferings of the whole human
race, or to the everlasting sufferings of those who will
actually be saved by his death.
Neither does it suppose that, strictly speaking, Christ
paid a debt for us.  We owed no debts and of course none
was paid.  We were liable to suffering, and therefore sufferincg was endured.
But it does suppose, that the sins of men were so laid
on Christ, that his sufferings were inconceivably intense
and overwhelming; and that, being inflicted by God on a
person of supreme exaltation and dignity, the object of
God's supreme affection,'" God manifest in the flesh," they
were as full and as adequate a manifestation to the universe, of God's dclispleasure against the sins of the whole
human race, as would have been made in their everlasting
punishment. As such, it supposes them to be an offered
substitute for the everlasting punishment of all mankind, and
the actual substitute for the everlasting punishment of all
who shall be saved; so that if all mankind had been saved,




DEATH OF CHRIST.               157
no more suffering on the part of Christ would have been
necessary; although none will be actually saved in consequence of it, except those who repent and believe.
The scriptural doctrine of Atonement, as we understand
it, is therefore this-That the sufferings and death of
Christ were inflicted by God, and voluntarily endured by
himself, as an adequate manifestation of the Divine dis.
pleasure against the sins of the human race, on the condition that they should be offered to all men, as a sufficient
ground for their forgiveness, or a substitute for their punishment, and that they should actually prove the substitute
for the punishment of all who repent and believe.
This is the doctrine of Atonement as standing by itself
and unconnected with any thing else. At the same time,
all those who have held this doctrine have also held that,
in the mission of the Holy Spirit as the agent, and in the
truth of God as the means, of regeneration and sanctification, both of which were granted to men as the reward of
the obedience and death of Christ, a broad and sure foundation was laid for the recovery of mankind to holiness and
to God. In short, we believe that the death of Christ
lays a sufficient foundation for saving the whole human
family from the everlasting sin and misery of hell, and for
raising them to the ever-increasing happiness and virtue of
heaven; that none will fail of the salvation thus wrought
out, but those who reject it; and that a multitude which
no one can number out of every kindred, and nation, and
people, and tongue, will actually escape that endless sin and
misery, and partake of that ever-increasing holiness and joy.
Having thus learned what the doctrine of Atonement is,
it remains to submit it to the same examination to which
all the preceding theories have been subjected.
1. If this was the Great End of the death of Christ, it
11t




-158             DISCOURSES ON -TE
was an event. sufficiently momentous to justify the importance given to it in the Scriptures.  No end, of which we
can conceive as connected with- this world, is equally important with-the endlessly increasing happiness' and virtue
of mankind.  The death of Christ, might well,. therefore,
have- been the result of the determinate counsel and foreknowledge of God.-  No -subject could have. been so interesting, as communicated to our first parents in Eden, or
to Abraham, or-Moses,-or David, or Isaial, or the succeeding prophets. That it was necessary as an atonement for
sin, as an expression of God's displeasure against it, is
most obvious from the fact, that no other way of forgiving
sins' has hitherto been devised, which does not declare the
penalty of the law of God to have been absolutely unnecessary, and does -not wholly subvert the authority of his
government.  If the angels contemplated the Father giving his Son to die, and the Son of God actually consenting
to die, to effect this great salvation; and if they saw the
countless- multitude of the first born -raised to immortal
life in heaven; we can not wonder: that this vast result of
glory and of good, should have fixed their deeply interested
attention for revolving ages; or that, when it was actually
accomplished, they should have united in the new and:universal- song, "' Worthy is the Lamb that: was slain, to
receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and might, and
honor, and glory, and blessing."  On this supposition, the
death of Christ was indeed the great manifestation of the
love of God to men; the highest possible evidence of his
willingness to bless mankind; the sum and substance of
the gospel; and the only thing in which an Apostle ought
to have gloried. 
2. This theory. will explain the peculiar titles which are
given to. Christ in consequence of his death.- In this his




DEATH OF CHRIST. -             159
great work, in dying as' an atonement for the sins of the
world, he stands perfectly alone. This is an honor, a distinction, a glory, of which no martyr nor apostle, no
prophet nor patriarch, no angel nor archangel, can boast.
Other foundation can no one lay; and there is no other
name given under heaven among men whereby we must be
saved.  We can see, therefore, why- the Baptist, his forerunner, announced him to the human race as the Lamb of
God, who taketh away the sin of the world; and why he
is styled by himself and his apostles, the Ransom, and the
Deliverers the Saviour of the world, and the Redeemer of
mankind.
3. We can thus explain the deep personal interest felt
in his death, by many who died before his coming.  Their
sins were forgiven, as truly as ours, in consequence of his
atonement; and their holiness, as truly as ours, was the
purchase of his death.  While they were on earth,  therefore, they could behold in every bleeding victim, an affecting type of the Lamb, which- God would provide for a
burnt-offering, and, guided by the finger of prophecy, they
could well look forward to the coming of his day, and
rejoice in it, and be glad.  On their arrival in heaven,
they began fully to comprehend all that salvation means.
There they witnessed the emotions felt in the hearts of
angels, but which the tongues even of angels could not
adequately express, on the first annunciation of a Saviour's
birth; when a multitude of the heavenly host, leaving the
portals of the sky, and hovering over the plains of Bethlehem, shouted, in the hearing of the astonished shepherds,
"Glory to God in the highest, on earth peace, and goodwill to men!" And when, his work of agony and death
all ended, the gates of heaven opened spontaneously to the
ascending Conqueror, and the King of glory entered in;




160             DISCOURSES ON THE
they might well be justified, as they cast their crowns
before his feet, and began the sweetest of the songs of
heaven, " Unto HIM who hath loved us, and washed us
from our sins in his own blood, and made us kings and
priests unto God, even his Father, unto HIM be glory and
dominion, forever and ever, Amen 1"
4. We can thus account for the fact, that the SoN OF
GOD was selected as the Saviour, and that he consented to
suffer and to die. It was the purpose of Jehoval, to cause
all his goodness to pass before the universe of intelligent
beings, and by one decisive demonstration, to make them
feel, as well as comprehend, the length and the breadth,
the hight and the depth of the love that passeth knowledge. A world of sinners, all immortal, all condemned as
the enemies of God, were to be rescued from endless darkness and death, and raised to the realms of light and life
eternal.  Some one must be found to take their place, and
be made a curse for them; some one, the gift of whom
should show the greatness of the Father's love; some one
who was able to bear the sins of a lost world in his own
body on the tree; some one of such high consideration and
dignity, in the view of God and his intelligent kingdom,
that, when he should drink the cup of wrath, heaven and
earth should witness perhaps a deeper manifestation of the
displeasure of Jehovah against the sins of men, than would
have been made in their final condemnation; some one,
too, whom his redeemed, as they beheld him on the throne
of the majesty on high, could unite with the Father in
their endless ascription of dominion, and blessing, and
praise. Whom, then, in this broad universe, could we
have selected for such an undertaking, but Him, who is
the brightness of the Father's glory and the express image
of his person, at whose name every knee shall bow, of things




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 161
in heaven and things on earth? And when he contemplated " the joy set before him," this achievement of neverending glory, and of ever-growing happiness and virtue,
who can wonder that he was willing to tread the wine-press
alone?
5. In this way, we learn the reason of his early death.
He came, as the Son of the Highest, to manifest the love
of God to men in the purpose of salvation, to set an example of universal holiness, to prove his divine mission by
his miracles, to die as a sacrifice for our sins, to rise from
the -dead: as evidence of our justification,' and then to
ascend on high, that in the possession of all power over
heaven and earth, he might overrule all things for the
good of his church. But he did not come to finish the
canon of the Scriptures in person, nor to settle the constitution of the Christian church, nor by his visible presence
to give efficacy to the gospel of salvation. This, as he expressly told his disciples, was the office of the Comforter,
the Holy Ghost. In the immediate contemplation, therefore, of his own death, resurrection and ascension, he
might say with truth, in his prayer at the close of the
sacramental supper, " I have glorified thee on the earth, I
have finished the work which thou gavest me to do;" and
again he might also say,-" It is finished,"-as he bowed
his head and gave up the ghost.
6. We can thus see why his death, rather than any other
event of his life, not excepting even his incarnation, or his
birth, should have been selected, as the object of public
and perpetual commemoration by his church. If this
theory be true, his death, taking into view its design, its
$ That is, as evidence that his Atonement was accepted of God as a full
atonement for our sins.
14*




162              DISCOURSES ON THE
attendant circumstances, and its consequences, was not
only the most surprising, but incomparably the most important event which God has yet made known to man;
that which yields the richest tribute of glory to the King
Eternal; that which best unfolds the treasures of Infinite
love; that which procures for man, not merely all the
blessings of the present life, but all the good which he can
find in holiness and in God, through the ever-expanding
life of heaven.  His people, therefore, as they surround
the sacramental table, can justify the institution; for they
feel the force of his own language, c" This is my body,
which is broken for you."
7. We here find no difficulty in explaining why his
death was public, violent, and ignominious. It was to be
a manifestation of the divine justice, of the displeasure of
God against the sins of men, and of the guilt and odiousness of sin, to be witnessed both by earth and heaven.
All this was exhibited in the fullest manner by his most
public death, accomplishedcl, not by the direct agency of
God, but by those, whom  he came to save, nailing him to
the cross, and imbruing their hands in his blood.
8. We can thus account for the fact that his sufferings
were great and overwhelming-sufferings inflicted by God;
sufferings not chiefly of the body but of the mind. The
sins for which he was to atone were all the sins of the
countless millions of mankind, all the determined enemies
of God and of virtue, all destined to the wrath and curse
of God, and to the torments of hell forever. As his sufferings were to be an expression of the divine displeasure,
they must of course be inflicted by God. As Jehovah was
to lay on him the iniquities of us all, and his death was to
be at least as strong an expression of the divine displeasure against the sins of all mankind as their eternal con



DEATH OF CHRIST.                163
finement in the prison of his wrath, we see, not only why
the Son of God must be selected as the victim, but why
his sufferings must be, and must be seen to be, inconceivably intense and distressing.  Such sufferings, a material
body, especially one so weak and frail as the body of man,
is not in its very nature qualified to endure. They must
be principally the sufferings of the intelligent mind; the
travail of the soul. And when he was stricken and smlitten of God;' when Jehovah inflicted on his mind an adequate expression of his displeasure against all the sins of a
condemned world, while we most easily believe that he
made his soul an offering for sin, we do not wonder at that
cry of agony, "R My God, my God, why hast thou forsaken
me!"
9. The scene in Gethsemane is, in this way, adequately
explained.
The sufferings of Christ on the cross, which he here
anticipated, we can readily believe, were at least firom
four different sources.  One of these, and doubtless the
least, was the pains of crucifixion, or the sufferings of the
body. Another was his conflict with evil spirits. The
apostle tells us that, having spoiled principalities and
powers, at his death, he made a shew of them openly,
triumphing over them with his cross. If so complete a
triumph was gained, that, in his ascension, he led them
captive, and made a show of them openly as his vanquished enemies, the conflict must have been for the time peculiarly distressing.  Accordingly, when  Judas, whom
Satan had tempted to betray him, approached with the
Roman band, he himself said of the season of hlis peculiar
sufferings, "This is your hour, and the power of dark* Isaiah liii. 4.




164              DISCOURSES ON THE
ness."  It was indeed the hour in which the powers of
darkness-were to make their most furious onset, the time
when Satan was to bruise the heel of the Seed of the
woman, the season of his expected and imagined triumph
over the Suon of God.
A third source of intense distress, was the infinite weight
of responsibility resting upon him, during the season of his
overwhelming agonies. This world had been created, as
the Theatre of the Work of Redemption; and Man had
been permitted to fall, that he might be redeemed.  The
fixed attention of heaven, earth and hell had been directedel, for revolving ages, to the Great Atonement to be made
by the promised Messiah.  On the supposition, that he
would well sustain the agonizing trial, all the dispensations of God to these three worlds had been adjusted.
On that supposition, a countless multitude of penitent
transgressors, with the curse of the law resting upon them,
unless he should remove it, had, by anticipation, been
justified, and admitted to heaven.  On that supposition, a
multitude of the heavenly host had ascribed glory to God
in the highest, because there was peace on earth, and
good-will to man.  On the issue of that trial, was suspended the endless happiness or misery of a world. The great
crisis of the universe was thus approaching.  If he failed,
not only were the hopes of men and angels blasted, but
the glory of God was tarnished forever.  Thus a weight,
needing the strength of the Almighty to sustain it, would
bear down upon him, while he was suspended on the
cross.
His remaining sufferings were those directly and imme-diately inflicted by God.  Not only was he to be forsaken
of God, but Jehovah was to bruise him, and put him to




DEATH OF CHRIST.                165
grief; * and the sufferings actually inflicted on himself
were to be, not only in the view of others, but to his own
mind, as awful an expression of the Divine displeasure
against sin, as would have been made to it, if he had witnessed the endless punishment of a, revolted world.
In the garden his apprehension of all these sufferings
was most lively and distinct.  The overwhelming sorrows
of Calvary were all present, and real, and endured by an
anticipation so full and clear, that his sweat was as it were
great drops of blood falling to the ground.  Such an anticipation was necessary, that it might appear to the intelligent universe, not only how great his sufferings were, but
that he was not mistaken nor surprised, and that while he
was most conscious of their overwhelming weight, he voluntarily submitted to them all. Under the full consciousness
of these accumulated sufferings, which no created nature
could long endure, he cried out in prostrate agony, with
his face upon the ground, " 0 my Father! if it be possible, let this cup pass from me!-nevertheless, not as I
will, but as thou wilt:" in other words, " If it be possible,
that the redemption of the world should be effected, without my drinking the cup of wrath, let me not drink it;
nevertheless, not as I will, but as thou wilt." The very
prayer, while it showed the intenseness of the sufferings,
showed also the intenseness of his resignation.
10.  We can thus easily account for the remarkable occurrences which preceded and followed his death. If it
was an event, in which not only earth and heaven, but the
great Sovereign of both, felt this deep personal interest,
and if his sufferings were to be thus incomprehensibly great,
Mount Tabor might well have witnessed that surprising
E Isaiah liii. 10.




166:             DISCOURSES ON THE
scene, intended to prepare him for his decease, which he
was to accomplish at Jerusalem; and, while he was transfigured before his astonished disciples, and his face did
shine as the sun, and his raiment was white as the light,
we do not wonder that they beheld there, not merely Moses
and Elijah, but the overshadowing cloud of glory, from
which they heard the Uncreated Voice, " This is my beloved Son, in whom I am well pleased."  And when the
wrath of the Almighty was poured out on his beloved Son,
and he bare the sins of a lost world in his own body on the
tree, great indeed would have been the wonder, if, when
all heaven was veiled in sackcloth, the astonished sun had
not withdrawn his light, or the earth had not quaked with
fear, or the world of death had not heaved with new and
strange commotions.
11.  We thus learn why the Saviour was seen so little
after his resurrection.  I-is work on earth was finished and
completed.  The foundation was laid of that vast Temple,
which the Divine Spirit, out of stones taken from this
earthly quarry, and changed to living stones, was -to build
as the habitation of God on high. And, as he intended to
furnish to mankind that amount of evidence of his religion,
which would fully sustain their faith, rather than that which
might be the basis of mathematical demonstration; he left
the proof of his resurrection to the testimony and the miracles of his disciples, to the gospel which they preached,
and to the influences of the Spirit who accompanied them;
and, withdrawing from this lower world, he entered on his
mediatorial reign in heaven.
Thus we see, that all the facts recorded in the Scriptures
as connected with the death of Christ, are in perfect harmony with the supposition, that its great design was to
make an atonement for the sins of the world. The theory




DEATH OF CHRIST.                 167
also accounts for the phenomena attending the event.  Let
us now see whether it is also consistent with the direct
expilanations of that event given us by the scriptural
writers.
Here we meet with a difficulty somewhat peculiar. It
was necessary, in the preceding part of these discourses, to
state the various forms of phraseology in which these explanations are given, and, by a critical investigation, to
determine the exact meaning of each.  What we there did
leaves us here nothing to do, except to repeat what was
there said; for the true meaning of these explanations is
so identically the same with that of the theory which we
are now considering, that all argument on the subject is
out of the question.
You have already seen that the Son of God died for us;
that he died for our sins; that he died for the forgiveness
of our sins; that he died as a sin offering, or a sacrifice
for our sins; that he died to make an atonement for our
sins; that he died to reconcile us to God, or that God
mighlt not impute to us our iniquities; that in his death he
bare our sins by enduring sufferings inflicted instead of our
punishment; that he redeemed us from the punishment of
the law; that he gave his life a ransom for us, to procure
our pardon; that we are justified by his blood, and saved
from wrath by his death; and that these several forms of
phraseology have been proved to denote that he suffered
death, inflicted as the appointment of God to procure our
forgiveness, or to save uts from  that manifestation of the
divine displeasure, which would have been made in our
punishment.  We need not add that, in barely stating
these scriptural explanations, we have stated the identical
doctrine of ATONEMENT BY THE DEATH OF JESUS CHRIST.




168               DEATH OF CHRIST.
Thus, after a careful, and, so far as I know my own
heart, an honest and fair examination of the Scriptures
relative to this subject, I can come to no other result than
this, —that, To lay an adequate foundatiorn for the forgiveness and salvation of a world, was the Great End
for which Jesus the Messiah died upon the cross.  Of this,
however, each of you will judge for himself. The Bible
is in your own hands; and it is not a sealed book, to him
who will read it. I ask none of you to believe any thing,
merely because you hear it from this place. I urge every
one of you to search the Scriptures most faithfully for himself, that you may know what the SPIRIT, who was in the
prophets, the evangelists, and the apostles, has testified,
concerning the sufferings of Christ, and the glory that
shall follow. I do this fearlessly, because I know that this
BooK, like its AUTHOR, is light, and that in it there is no
darkness at all,-" To THE LAW AND TO THE TESTIMONY,"
is the Christian's motto: "if they speak not according to
THIS WORD, it is because there is no light in them."




GOD'S CONSTANT TRIAL OF MAN.
JOB VII: 17. 18.
What is man, that thou shouldst try him every moment.
To try denotes, to put to the test; to place in such circumstances as will detect the character.  The courage of
a soldier is tried in the field of battle. The talents and
industry of the student are put to the test by the daily
recitation.  The difficulties and temptations of public life
try the firmness and integrity of men in power.
The text instructs us, that God so orders the daily events
of life as to render them a constant trial of every individual. He places him in circumstances which will inevitably
detect his character, and bring the hidden man of the heart
out into open, naked view.
This truth, I know,: is a painful one to many; it is frequently questioned and denied, and by those who admit it
is too often forgotten. In considering it, I propose to show:
How the various events and circumstances of life try
every man's character:
Why God so orders them, as to produce this result.
This trial is represented as carried on every moment.
Of course we are to regard it as commencing when the




170        GOD'S CONSTANT TRIAL OF MAN.
mind begins to act, as continued from day to day, and as
terminating at death.
Among these events and circumstances, I shall notice
particularly,Afflictions.  Men often speak of their afflictions as
severe  and distressing trials.  By this language they
intend a trial of their feelings, or of their fortitude. We
ought, however, to regard them as a trial in a higher and
more important sense, because they are one of the most
efficacious means of determining the moral dispositions of
our hearts.  Afflietions do not come forth from the dust,
nor spring from the ground, but they are in every instance
immediately appointed and sent upon us by God.  His
hand takes away our property. Disease wastes our health
at his command. Death comes as a message from him
when he enters our dwelling. His design in sending affliction is to do us good. When it comes, his hand chastises
us for our sins. IHe intends to make us feel the criminality
of our sins, that we humble ourselves on account of them;
that we break them off, and commence lives of holy obedience. When he deprives us of property, he intends that
we shall resign our self-confidence and our inordinate love
of riches, and transfer our affections to God and to heaven.
When he visits us with sickness, he intends that we shall
feel our frailty and dependence, and immediately prepare
for death. When he takes away some one of our family,
he aims at a similar result.
The afflictions which God sends have a very different
effect on different men.  As God sends them, he takes
care to be present, and to watch their effect on each individual, from the time it is first felt, until it is forgotten.
One man, when his property is taken away-whether by
fire, or shipwreck, or the negligence or fraud of others,
I                 0,~~~~~~~os




cGOD'S CONSTANT TRIAL OF MAN.         171?cels the hand of a present God chastising him, bows in
submission to the stroke, confesses and laments his covetousness, and thus begins to lay up treasure in heaven.
Another, under a similar loss, refuses to acknowledge God
as sending it, murmurs at its severity, laments his ill luck,
concludes to bear it because he cannot help it, and enters
with new zeal on the acquisition of more.  One man, when
visited by sickness, becomes a real penitent and a humble
follower of Christ. Another hardens himself against the
voice of God; or, if he is alarmed by the near prospect
of death., resolves to repent after his recovery and then forgets his resolution. In one dwelling, from which death has
just torn away a wife or a husband, a parent or a child,
you will find the survivors deeply mourning their loss, but
not mourning for their sins.,-unconscious that God has
come near to them, —charging the event to the disease or
the physician, and looking for consolation only to the present world. In another, you shall see them  silent, submi-.
save, sorrowing most of all on account of their sins, and finding sufficient consolation in the presence and the love of God.
In every such case, God sends the judgment, reminds the
individual that it came immediately from him, and then
leaves him to act as he pleases. By the affliction, the
character of the individual is so far determined and dis.
closed. He who is not subdued and brought to repentance, discovers the hardness and stubbornness of his heart,
and practically says to God that, even when he feels his
chastising hand and opens his eyes on death and judgment, he will not renounce sin nor return to his duty.
God surveys the progress and result of the chastisement,
and not only finds the design of it frustrated, but sees the
individual on whom it was sent a more obstinate offender




172        GoDL' CONSTANT TRIAL OF MAN.'
than before, more forgetful of God, and altogether less
likely to attain salvation.
Blessings.  The blessings we receive from  God comn
mence with our existence, are countless in- their number
and variety, and innumerable in degree.  They are new
every morning, fresh every evening,: and repeated every
moment.  They are all not only gifts of his bounty, but
are given in mercy-because they are bestowed on the evil.
and unthankful. They include the gift and preservation
of life, all the enjoyment we have. already-received or now
possess or hope for, the offer of Heaven, and the,promise
of happiness unmixed and eternal.  They are intended to
inspire thankfuilness and praise, to lead us to supreme love,
confidence, and obedience.  This return, if we make it,and it is the only return we can smake, —will in itself be
the greatest of all blessings.
While we are thus enjoying these blessings we are not
always aware that every one of them  is a trial. Their
effect on different men is widely different. There are:
those, who daily remember from whence their blessings
come, and daily' ask, "What shall we render-unto the
Lord for all his benefits?"  But how different is the conduct of others.  While he feeds them and clothes them: aschildren, they never acknowledge him:as their Father. -He
watches over them every night, but they will not bless him
in the morning. He guards them every day, but they will
not spend it in his service, nor thank him in the evening.
Should he preserve their property when exposed to peculiar
danger, they have no perception of his goodness and never
approach him to express their obligations.  Thus every
blessing they receive reveals their ingratitude; so that
even at the closie of life it will appear, that the goodness




GOD'S CONSTANT TRIAL OF MAN.            173
of God, instead of having inspired them with love, could
not induce them to renounce transgression.
Temptations. Our path through this world is beset with
temptations, and crowded with dangers. They arise from
within and from without. They meet us before and behind; on the right and on the left.  Every affection,
every appetite, every object that we love, may be the
means of tempting us to sin.
We are tempted to fraud and injustice in our transactions with others.  This is the case in all the common
concerns of life. When we buy, our avarice tempts us to
represent the value of the article, or the market price as
less, and when we sell, as more than they really are. Il
every such case, God looks on, witnesses our representations, and sees whether we love our neighbor as ourselves.
In every contract we are tempted to overreach-if we can,
and to impose on the confidence or simplicity of others.
In every business and trade there are certain secrets
familiarly known to those who pursue it, which constantly
tempt them to impose on those with whom they deal. Are
we poor; our poverty daily tempts us to cheat and steal.
Have we property; that property gives us power to oppress the poor, and to defraud the simple. God places us
in these circumstances on purpose to try us.  He puts it
in our power to gain by selfishness and dishonesty-he
then leaves us to act as we please, and the result discovers
our true characters.
We are tempted to acquire property by placing inducements to sin in the way of others, and by furnishing them
with the means of sinning.  All men who intend to live:a
life of sin, will pay a high price for the conveniences of
sinning; and whatever our business may be, we find that
the lusts and sins of those around us furnish the easiest




174         GOD'9S CONSTANT TRIAL OF MAN.
and amplest means of support and emolument.  When we
engage in it, God submits this practical question for our
decision,-Whether we will conduct it on the principles of
the Bible, so as to do good and glorify him, or,-Whether
we will become panders:to the unholy appetites and- passions of others.  The temptation here thrown is often so
strong that few are able to resist it.  If we yield, we shall
excite no observation, because we do only what others do.
If we resist, we shall be thought unnecessarily precise and
scrupulous. The result always discloses what is the state
of the heart -within.
We are tempted to impurity, in thought, word, and
deed, and the opportunities of gratification are placed
within our reach.  We are tempted daily to sloth, to intemperance in eating and drinking, to the amusements and
pleasures of fashionable life. Our hatred to others tempts
us to slander them, our vanity leads us to exaggeration
and embellishment, while in the case of those above us,
our selfishness tempts us to flattery.  [Each of these
temptations has its effect. It discovers the dispositions of
our hearts.
Our opportunities of doing good.  God informs: us that
we are his servants, —his stewards.  Our business is to do
good, and we have a vast field for doing good before us.
As to the amount of good which every man is to do God
has given us a plain rule-Do good,- as you have opportunity, to all men. Whatever you do, do all to the glory of
God.  Every man's opportunities of doing good are peculiar to himself.  God leaves us in these circumstances, and
then says, " Occupy till I come."  After this he exercises
no control, no restraint over us. - He merely looks on, -and
permits us to act as we please.  We take our choice, and
the result shows our characters. We are able to spend all




GOD'S CONSTANT TRIAL OF MAN.            175
of life in this great business; we are able wholly to neglect
it, and to spend life in the pursuits of avarice, ambition,
and sensuality. The conduct of men in this respect,
also, is widely different. Some men are faithful stewards,
and make doing good their sole employment.  Others occasionally engage in it, not willingly, but by constraint.
Others never once reflect that they were sent into the
world for this purpose, and are always employed in serving
their own selfishness, if not in gratifying their own lusts.
In this particular, our daily business tries us. We shew
this by our habitually carrying it on for God, or for ourselves. Our property tries us by the manner in which we
employ it.  We can hoard it, and thus live for the mere
business of accumulation.  We can expend it in the gratification of pride or the indulgence of pleasure. Or we
can employ it in doing good. Our influence tries us. We
can exert it to promote our own purposes or to secure the.welfare of others.- Our families try us.  Our opportunities of doing them good are numberless.  These commence
in their infancy-they occur every day of their continuance through life.  When a child is born, God says to us,
" Take care of this young immortal and educate it for me.
Its soul is worth all thy care, and all thy efforts.  Be faithful and I will pay thee thy wages."  Every day he tries
us, whether we will do this duty or not. He inspires us
with intense love for them. He opens heaven to our sight,
and assures us that there is room there-not only for us
but for them.: He points us downward to a gulf of misery
and tells us not to lead them thither.  He thus informs
us, that the question whether they shall spend their eternity in heaven or in hell, is intimately connected with our
treatment of them  in this momentary life; and with all
these things before us he leaves us to decide for ourselves,




176        GOD'S CONSTANT TRIAL OF MAN.
whether we will faithfully seek their salvation in the ways
of his appointment. At the same time he kindly warns us
to begin early, as the work will be very difficult; and to
do what we do with our might, because the time is short.
He then looks on and watches what our conduct is from
day to day. The result proves, in every case, whether,
with all these motives before us, we are desirous of promoting the immortal welfare of our children. I need not
say that in different families very different results are beheld. There are parents who daily remember that their
children are probationers for eternity. By a holy example,
earnest instructions and exhortations, by prayers and tears,
they shew their faith in the Divine promises, and their
determination to give a good account of their stewardship.
The prayers of others are so faithless, their efforts so occasional and feeble, that they appear to be made merely to
quiet their own fears, and with no view to a conscientious
discharge of duty. Others still never do any thing in
obedience to these commands, but leave the souls of their
children as uncultivated as the heathen. We are tried by
our domestics. We have powerful means of influencing
them, by instruction, example, and prayer, to accompany
us to heaven.  While they live in our families is the time
of trial, and God is present in our houses to witness the
issue.  We are tried by our fellow-men around us,-by the
poor, and the ignorant, and the vicious,-whether we will
exert ourselves to warn them of their danger, and to instruct and reclaim them; whether we will teach their children in the Sabbath school, and contribute to furnish them
with Bibles, the preaching of the gospel, and all the various means of moral and religious improvement. We are
tried by our neighbors and by strangers, whenever we have
an opportunity to promote their eternal welfare, and to per



GOD'S CONSTANT TRIAL OF MAN.            177
suade them to seek that country to which-we are invited to
go.  Every day furnishes us with such trials.  Every day
God directs us to use the opportunity as it offers, and he
then waits to see what our conduct is.  At the close of
every day if we will but survey that conduct, we shall
learn the result of the trial.
Our religious privileges.  The Bible is given as a light
to our feet and a lamp to our path.  We have it in our
own possession, and in our own language. It lies daily on
the shelf, and tries us daily whether we will read it or not.
If we read it, we are tried whether we will read it often
and habitually, whether we will read it as the word of God,
whether we wvill read it prayerfully and with self-application. Not a morning nor evening passes which does not
bring us to this test; nor in which we do not thus disclose
our characters, in which our Bibles do not testify for or
against us.
The Sabbath is given unto us as such a privilege.  All
that is awful in the commands of Jehovah; all that is delightful in communion with him; all that is momentous in
salvation, prompts us to keep it holy to the end of it, and.
to spend its sacred hours in his peculiar presence and worship.  Every Sabbath thus is a trial of the state and: temper of our-hearts.  As it approaches, God draws; near to
see how we prepare for its arrival, whether we welcome
it as one of the days of heaven, whether we consecrate it
to him and spend it in his service and in the enjoyment of
his communion, or- -whether we regard it with mere exters
nal decency; or openly and presumptuously profane it
by amusements or business,-by worldly thoughts, conversation, and conduct.  We are taught, that the sanctuary is
the house of God and the gate of heaven; that it is the
place of his peculiar presence, where he meets his people




I178        GOD'S CONSTANT TRIAL OFP MAN.
to bless them, and where he is willing to meet and bless
returning sinners. We are then tried every week, whether
we will attend on its ministrations or absent ourselves;
whether we will go with reverence and humility to meet
God, to worship him, to listen to his truth, and to seek
pardon and salvation, or whether we will go to gratify
curiosity, or taste, a critical or captious spirit.
Every evangelical sermon is a direct and painful trial of
our characters. In every such sermon the way to heaven
is clearly pointed out. Our danger and our guilt are set
before us. The invitations of the gospel, and the sufficiency and willingness of Christ to save us, are unfolded.
The danger of delay and the necessity of now accepting
the great salvation are disclosed, and all possible motives
are brought to bear on our consciences and our hearts.
When we hear every such sermon, life and death, heaven
and hell, are set before us.  God submits to us the plain
identical question,-" Will you repent and accept salva,
tion, or not? and he then leaves us to decide for ourselves.
We do decide; we choose one or the other, and that in
every case. Every minister when he has preached such a
sermon, can close the book and say to the people, "; Life
and death, heaven and hell, are this day set before you
and presented for your choice.  You may have eternal
life if you will; but to have it, you must choose it. But
if you do not choose it, you will choose death."  Every
such sermon, whether we will or no, has an important effect
on our welfare. It brings us to a stand, and compels us
to take God for our portion or to reject him. This is true
of this sermon if it be really of this character.  If it
declares to you faithfully the whole counsel of God, it will
be to every one who hears it a savor of life unto life, or a
savor of death unto death.




a-OD'S CONSTANT TRIAL OF MAN.         179
IRevivals of Religion.  At such a season God is near,
and every day and hour reminds us of his presence. He
does not merely come to the sinners around us, but he
comes to us in person. He brings us directly before him,
so that our minds see him. We know and feel that he is
come on an errand of infinite love.  We stand before his
throne of grace, from day to day and from hour to hour.
We behold him seated thereon, and see the omnipresent
Spirit face to face. All that is awful in power, in holiness,
in justice, is blended with all that is lovely in goodness and
mercy. When he speaks, he does not —as at other timesaddress sinners in general; he speaks immediately to us.
There, while we stand before his throne, and beheld the
very features and expression of infinite love, he calls us by
name and puts the question directly:-" Guilty, ruined,
as you are, will you now turn from your transgressions,
and come back, and acknowledge me as your Father and
your God? Will you now come and apply to your soul
that blood of Atonement which was shed for the remission
of your sins? Relent, and I will have mercy on you.
Return, and you shall be a son, a king, a priest unto
God."  With these proposals many sinners comply.  Believing that he who gave his Son to die for them is willing
to forgive and bless them, they go to him as their Father,
and take their place among his children.  Many others,
though they thus see God and hear him speak to them,
linger and hesitate from week to week, and from month to
month, until God retires and leaves them to themselves.
Such a season is, at times, the most fiery trial through
which the soul is ever made to pass.  The sinner acts
knowingly, wilfully, deliberately.  While he sees heaven
above open to welcome him and hell from beneath moved
for him to meet him at his coming, while his eye is fixed




180        GOD'S CONSTANT TRIAL OF MAN.
on God and his ear is listening to his voice, he says to.Jehovah,-" I will not have thee for my portion. I will
not renounce my sins.  I will hold on my way to death."
We are also briefly to consider, why God thus orders
the events and circumstances of life so as to be a constant
trial of our characters.
He does this, I would say particularly, to prepare men
for the judgment of the great day. On that day he must
demand an exact account from every human being of the
affections of the heart and of the external conduct, that he
may reward us according to our works. IHe must, of
course, place men in circumstances which will infallibly try
them and shew of what their hearts are constituted.
If a single angel, or a single man, should be found in
that day who had not been placed in such circumstances,
the judgment could not proceed, for the necessary preparations would not have been made.
He does this, I would add, to make known our characters to others. God intends that all his creatures shall
know, that he is just when he judges, and clear when he
condemns. If he should admit a single angel or a single
man to heaven, who could not justify himself on his trial,
according to the known public condition of justification,
either under a dispensation of law or a dispensation of
grace, he would be accused of partiality and a violation
of his promises. If he should condemn any one who
could thus justify himself, the whole universe would be
witnesses of the injustice. The Divine character must
not be suspected.  Heaven and earth must be satisfied
that, in every case when he sends sinful creatures to the
abodes of woe, they deserve to be forever banished thither,
and that they are thus rewarded only according to their
works.




GOD'S CONSTANT TRIAL OF MAN.            181
He does this, also, to make us know our own characters.
God intends that the conscience of every; impenitent man
shall- pronounce his own sentence, and be perfectly satisfied
that it is right.  He intends that the sinner's mouth shall
be stopped, that the world of misery shall never hear a
solitary complaint or murmur against the rectitude of his
administration, and that it shall be the; heaviest part of the
sinner's punishment to know forever that- he deserves it.
God makes every day, and hour, and moment, therefore,
every thing which the man possesses or: covets, every in-:dividual whom  he knows, and every action, word, and
thought of his life, the means of trying him- and of shewing to himself as well as -to others,- the true character of
his heart.  Thus it is that the sinner, whether he will or
ano in every case, let him do or not do, choose or refuse,
speak or be silent, is always acting out his character and
exhibiting himself. The record is drawn not only on the
book of God's remembrance, but on the tablet of his own
memory.  Many of these lines now seem-; indeed, to be
almost obliterated, and many of the transactions forgotten;
yet the time is approaching when every line and word will
appear as fresh as when it was first written, and all the
transactions of life will come back in their original depravity-to glorify the justice of God, and to seal his own lips
in endless silence and despair.
An application of this subject should be readily made by
every one. - I need not say, then, how solemn our condition in this world! We cannot act,: nor speak, nor feel,
nor think,-we can -neither move nor exist, but we are
furnishing the materials out of which we are to be judged.
We are always revealing the secrets of our hearts, and
thus furnishing evidence either for or against ourselves.
Like a skilful limner, each one of us is ever occupied in
16




182        GOD'S CONSTANT TRIAL OF MAN.
painting his own likeness, the picture of his soul. Every
moment, as he adds a new touch of the pencil, the features
become bolder, the expression is stronger, and the resemblance more exact. At length the portrait is finished, and
it is then hung up, to be gazed at by God, by the universe
of intelligent creatures, and by the painter himself. Unlike all the other works of man, the canvass will never
decay, the coloring will grow more distinct and vivid
through eternity.
No less evident is it, that each of us personally has been
thus placed on his trial, and has been thus disclosing his
character. Let me then ask you, my hearer, what has
been the result of this trial hitherto?  The hand of God
has chastised you with afflictions. Ihas he seen you bowing in submission, or refusing to regard his chastisements,
and discovering a temper which afflictions cannot subdue?
He has tried you by great and constant blessings. Have
you not discovered a heart which blessings could not melt,
affections which kindness could not win?  You have been
daily exposed to temptations. Cannot the eye of memory
trace on the picture you have been drawing, the lines of
fraud and oppression, of intemperance and sensuality, of
falsehood and calumny, of hatred and revenge? Every
day has afforded you numberless opportunities of doing
good. Have you been exhibiting the character of the unprofitable servant? Your religious privileges have been
always great.  What must they affirm of the character of
your hearts? How have you appeared when tried by the
Bible; by each returning Sabbath; by the house of God;
by the invitations of mercy? Have you hitherto shown
that you love sin too well, to be drawn from it by the joys
of immortality, or to be frightened from it by the groans of
despair?




GOD'S CONSTANT TRIAL OF MAN.         183
A great preparation, as we see, has already been thus
made for the day of judgment. That day cannot come
on until all things are ready for its arrival; and God has
taken care so to order the events of his providence, that
the preparations for the judgment shall advance just as
rapidly as the wheels of time roll on. Not a human being
has gone into the world of spirits, whose character has not
been completely developed, and the account of his conduct
has been taken and sealed up against the arrival of that
day. That account will be lodged in the archives of
heaven until the judgment shall be set and the books be
opened.
As our use of our religious privileges is thus disclosing
our characters, it is evidently a very solemn thing to hear
the faithful preaching of the gospel. When God sends
you the gospel, my hearers, he is in earnest, and he does
not send it in vain. You do not trifle when you send messages to each other, and God does not trifle when he sends
the message of salvation to you. Jesus Christ did not
ascend the cross for a trifling purpose, and the Holy Ghost
was not sent to strive with you for nothing.' The word
that goeth out of my mouth," says God, " shall not return
unto me void; but it shall accomplish that which I please,
and shall prosper in the thing whereunto I send it."
The word which you hear is quick and powerful, and
sharper than any two-edged sword. Defend yourselves as
you please against it, it will inevitably penetrate your
hearts, and try and disclose your characters. You may
come to the house of God from habit or thoughtlessness,
or for mere amusement, and hear this message as if it were
not a message to yourselves, and would have no influence
on your future welfare. If so, the time will at length
arrive, when you will feel the evil effects of such stupidity




184        GOD'S CONSTANT TRIAL OF MAN.'
and presumption.  Christ informs you that his word shall
not be lost upon you.  " He that rejecteth me, and receiveth not my words, hath one that judgeth him: The
word that I have spoken, the same: shall judge him at the
last day."  When:you come to the sanctuary, and Christ
with his salvation is offered to you, you either embrace the:
offer, or you practically say to Christ — "LI reject thee as
a Saviour, and refuse the salvation which was. purchased
by thy blood."  This very thing you are each of you now,
doing; and when you and I meet at the judgment, and:
there give an account of this::Sabbath and this sermon, the
Judge of the quick and the dead will then shew to you
that, while I am now speaking, every one of you is either
receiving or rejecting Christ.- In this- hour of trial and
decision, when you are choosing between heaven and hell,
may God grant you his- Spirit, that you may come out
humble penitents and sincere believers.
If a Revival of Religion is so fiery a trial, ought you
not, my unconverted hearers, to think solemnly:of your
own condition?  You live in the midst of such' a work of
grace. You know that God is present, on an errand of
infinite mrercy.  Not a day, nor an hour passes by you,
when you do not stand before: him  and see him: on his
throne of grace, and hear his voice offering to you glory,
honor, and immortality. He employs peculiar  means to
bring you to repentance. You that are young, have line
upon line, precept upon precept. You that are parents,
and: others that have attained adult years, lhave had. new
and unusual efforts made for your salvation. For months
you have been standing on the very brink of the unseen
world, and the curtain has been drawn, and while the
W A Revival was in progress when this discourse was originally delivered.




GOD'S CONSTANT TRIAL OF MAN.         185
glories of heaven from above have burst upon your sight,
you have seen the smoke of the pit which is ascending forever and ever. With all these objects in view, Jehovah
has come forth from his hiding place, not to punish and
destroy, but to purify and save. Here, on his throne, he
has been surrounded, not by that glory which no eye can
see and live, but with those softer and lovelier beams of
mercy which shine from the face of Jesus Christ. Here
he has been for many weeks and months, waiting on you
to be gracious. And yet you have until now trifled with
all this greatness and goodness, and with a madness at
which demons stand confounded, have practically said to
him, —" I will not have thee to reign over me. I will not
hear thy voice. I will not accept pardon at thy hands.
Thy love does not melt me,-thy thunders do not awe
me." Poor, delirious hearer, need you wonder, should
you hear him swear in his wrath that you shall never enter
into his rest?
16*




THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE,
5ROMANS III: 22..For there is no difference.
THE first three chapters of this epistle are the longest
discussion of the moral character of man, to be found in
the Scriptures.  The Apostle, to shew the excellency of
the gospel, takes a full survey, first of the Gentiles, and
then of the Jews, and declares both to be in a ruined condition, alike guilty in the sight of God, and alike incapable of being justified by works of law. Having established
this fundamental position, he declares that men, though
condemned by law, are not without hope, because God in
the gospel had provided a righteousness for sinful man
through faith in Christ, which he would accept of all who
believe in him; and that in their need of this righteousness, there was no difference between one man and another,
because all were alike sinners and alike under condemnation.  "1 But the righteousness of God, which is by faith
in Jesus Christ, is manifested unto all and upon all them
that believe; for there is no difference; for all have sinned,




THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE.            187
and come short of the glory of God." This, then, is the
result of Paul's investigation of this most interesting subject. After surveying the whole world,-Jews and Gentiles,-after declaring that they are all under sin; that the
whole world is guilty before God, and that no flesh can be
justified in his sight, he concludes by putting all men on
one common level, and declares that there is no difference
between them. This account of the character and condition of man I know is a very different one from that which
we should be inclined to give, if left to ourselves; and it
directly tends, if believed, to humble our pride, and, if
disbelieved, to provoke our resentment.  Instead of bringing mankind together into one common group of deformity,
we make numerous distinctions, and at every step elevate
ourselves while we depress others.  We first separate savages from civilized men, and Mohammedans and Heathens,
from Christians. We next expel murderers and robbers,
thieves and adulterers, and all other infamous persons, from
the class in which we include ourselves. We then exclude
atheists, infidels, and sceptics.  We then withdraw from
those who disregard the nicer shades of morality and are
guilty of offences which the law of the land will not reach,
Finally, perhaps, we remove from the ignorant and the
clownish, and retreat within the pale of refinement and
intelligence. Here we regard ourselves and those with
whom we associate, as the truly respectable and virtuous,
and conclude that there is a wide and fundamental differenee between ourselves and the various classes from whhom
we have withdrawn.
It may, then, be well to pause a moment and inquire,
why Paul's conclusions and our own are so directly contradietory. The reason is this. Paul had been led by the
Holy Spirit to adopt very different rules for peasuring




188           THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE.
characters from  our own.:We refer our conduct to the
law of the land, or the laws of fashionable:life, or to pro.
Sessional or national customs; Paul referred it to the holy,
perfect, and comprehensive law of God.  We compare ourselves with those of our own class, or with those beneath
us; Paul compared us with saints and angels in heaven.
We forget the duties which men owe to God, and think
only of those which they owe to each other; in estimating
their character,- Paul fixed his eye chiefly on the former.
Even in our estimate of the latter class of duties, we look
only at the external conduct; Paul -looked only at the
motives from which that conduct flowed,- and- regarded it
as virtuous only when it respected the glory of God.  We
view-men merely as inhabitants: of:this world; Paul viewed
them as on their way to the jaudgment, and as candidates
for a higher ancd a nobler state of existence.: e brought
them,-not to the standard by which we:measure one
another:here, —but to; the standard by -which anl infinitely
pure and- holy God will:measure us to determine whether
-we shall be admitted-to his presence and allowed to associate with saints and angels._ -Taking this broad  and com-.prehensive view of the subject, he tells us that there is no
-difference between Jew and Gentile, or between one man
and another, but that all stand on one common level.It is my design to explain the meaning of the passage,
and then to-:establish the principle which it affirms.~
What then is the -neaning of the Apostle when he says,
that there is-no difference between one:man and another?
I shall endeavor to answer this question, first, negatively,
and then, positively.
There is no allusion here to the external circumstances
of men.  Paul knew, as well as ourselves, that there is a
very wide difference between men as to births family con



THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE.              189
nexions, the advantages of early education, manners, rank,,
property, power, and influence.Neither is there any reference to the corporeal or mental
endowments of man.  Paul was aware that, while one man
has a perfect body, and a healthy, vigorous constitution,
another is lame, or blind, or deaf and dumb, and another
is the prey of hereditary disease and destined to an untimely grave.  Neither was he ignorant that, while one
man has a powerful and well-balanced mind, possessing the
various faculties in their just proportion, another is destitute of taste, or memory, or judgment, or the power of
reasoning or invention, while another is an idiot, and
another the victim of hereditary delirium.
Neither does the Apostle intend that men are alike in
their tempers, or in their instincts, which, when called into
exercise, we sometimes call the native virtues.of the human
character.  Owing partly to native constitutional temperament, partly to education, and partly to the influence of
prosperous or. adverse circumstances, one man is cheerful,
while another is habitually gloomy; one is sweet tempered,
and another is morose; one is frank and affable, another
is reserved and distant; one is unsuspecting, another is
jealous; one is mild,- gentle, amiable, while another is
rough and violent; one is not easily provoked, another is
irritable.; one is humble, timid, contented, while another
is bold, ambitious, and aspiring; one is tender-hearted,
another is unfeeling; one is meek. and patient, another -is
unforgiving and revengeful. He -knew also that most men
possess natural and conjugal affection, while some are -without it; that some men are capable of friendship, while
others can neither cherish it themselves, nor prompt it in
those with whom they associate; that some seek to promote
the public welfare, while others regard nothing but their




190           THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE.
own. This difference between these classes of men is very
great. Those who belong to the first class, in each instance, will be pleasant and agreeable friends, neighbors,
and connections, while those belonging to the second, will be
uncomfortable in all the relations of life. If individuals
of these different classes are converted, it will require a
far greater measure of grace in one of the latter than in
one of the former, to exhibit the beauty and loveliness of
religion. Nay, some of those latter, who give decisive
evidence of piety, owing to their peculiarly unhappy native
tempers, are far less amiable and pleasing associates than
some of the former, who furnish no such evidence.  Of all
these diversities of Christians the Apostle was fully aware
when he said that there is no difference between one man
and another, yet he overlooked them all when he threw
mankind into one promiscuous group, and employed none
but the dark colors of sin and guilt to sketch the moral
likeness of the race. Is it asked, why he overlooks those
diversities? I answer: He knew that these heavens and
this earth were soon to be burnt up; that then all mankind would be inhabitants of the world of spirits; and that
that world is made up of heaven and hell, with no intermediate region.  He looked at these native virtues, and saw
that they might, and that they all do, often, exist without any
spirit of obedience to the law of God, without any love to
him or regard to his glory; that these very diversities are
found in the different animals; that they grow either out
of instinct, or selfishness; that they are perfectly consistent with impenitence and rejection of Christ; that an infidel or an atheist may possess them all; that they are often
found in men of openly debauched and profligate lives;
that they may all exist in their highest perfection, and yet




THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE.              191
not qualify their possessor for the presence of God or the
enjoyments of heaven.
Neither does Paul here intend to deny that there is a
wide difference in men as to their native or acquired propensities to particular sins.  One man is peculiarly propense to the indulgence of anger, another to fraud, another
to falsehood, another to debauchery, another to intemperance.
Neither means he to assert that all men are alike in
their morals, or that all are equally wicked, or that all men
are as bad as they can be. A youth who has ventured but
a little distance in the course of sin is far less corrupt than
an old transgressor; and the difference in the depravity of
persons of the same age is often very great.  Some men
lead a life of crime and enormity, others are occasionally
vicious, and others are externally and really decent and
reputable in their morals.  If also we could examine the
hearts of decent and moral men, we should find some of
them far less deformed and polluted than others.
As little does he refer here to difference in degrees of
guilt, or to any difference which the grace of God has
affected in the human character. He is speaking of men
in their natural, unrenewed state.
Neither, finally, does he regard any difference effected
in man by the means of grace, where actual grace is not
imparted. Under the privileges of the gospel, one man is
punctilious in his observance of all the external duties
of religion, while another treats them all with absolute indifference.
What, then, is the Apostle's meaning, when he says that
there is no difference between one man and another?  A
reference to the context will enable us to answer this inquiry. In the 9th verse he looks simply at the characters




.192           THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE.
of men, and- asks, " Are we Jews better than the Gentiles? No, in no wise, for we have before proved, both
Jews and Gentiles, that they are all under sin." In
the 19-th and 20th verses he brings the whole race of
Adam before the final bar on their trial as under law, ancd
finds: that every mouth is stopped:; that all the world are
compelled.to plead guilty; that no flesh, not an individual,
is justified or acquitted, but that all are condemned. And,
in the following three verses, *he declares that all men
stand in equal need of that righteousness which is by faith
in Jesus Christ, which God has agreed to accept instead of
the perfect righteousness of the law. It is then, when he
views men-as candidates for salvation, when he sees them,
not only incapable of being justified, but actually condemned, and needing justification through Christ, that he
places them all on the same level, and denies that there is
any difference between one man and another.
I shall next. proceed to establish the principle of this
passage.
This, in itself, is far from being an enviable undertaking.
To reflect that we stand on the same level, in any sense,
with criminals, and profligates, and others of the worst of
mankind, is a most distressing consideration.  Yet if God
places us on the same level in the decisions of the final
day, in the question of acquittal or condemnation, it is
desirable we should know it; and it will require no very
remarkable degree of humility, to believe that his estimate
of us is right.
I would observe then particularly, that when God describes the native character of man, and pronounces mankind to be fallen, without holiness, and deplorably wicked,
he no where intimates that there is any difference between
one man and another. WVe are told in the context, that




THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE.             193
all have sinned and come short of the glory of God, and
that Jews and Gentiles are all under sin.  In the 14th
Psalm, which is there quoted, we are told that Jehovah
looked down from heaven, not merely on the Gentiles or
the Jews, but on the children of men, to see if there were
any of them that sought after God. We are then immediately told of the result of this universal survey. In this
result, God does not classify men by nations, or as civilized
and barbarous, or according to their professions or circumstances. We hear nothing of good and bad men. He
groups them all together. " There is none righteous; no,
not one. There is none that understandeth; there is none
that seeketh after God. They are all gone out of the
way; they are together become unprofitable; there is none
that doeth good,-no, not one."  When he savs in Jeremiah,'" The heart is deceitful above all things, and desperately wicked," he does not say this of the heart of a thief,
or of a robber, of an adulterer, or a murderer; nor does
he say it of the heart of a savage, or of a Gentile, or a
Jew. He says it without qualification; and when he immediately adds, " I, Jehovah, search the heart, to reward
every man according to his works," he lets us know that
he is speaking of all men who will be summoned before the
final bar; in other words, of the whole race of Adam.
When  God  pronounces mankind  sinners, desperately
wicked, and without holiness, his language, as we thus see,
is in the fullest possible degree universal; he puts no difference between one man and another.
2. There is no difference as to the condemnation in
which all men are involved. This necessarily follows from
the fact that they are all sinners and without holiness; for
"he that offendeth in one point, is guilty of all;" and
~ cursed is every one that continueth not in all things writ17




194           THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE.
ten in the book of the law, to do them." But the fact is
itself asserted in many forms. Thus in the context it is
said, that all the world is become guilty, i. e. liable to
punishment, before God. We are also told that, previous
to faith in Christ, all men are under condemnation.  "' He
that believeth not, is condemned already," and 6( the wrath
of God abideth on him."
In the tidings of the gospel all men are put on one level.'Fear not," says the angel to the shepherds,"' for behold!
I bring you glad tidings of great joy, which shall be," not
to the Jews merely, nor the Gentiles merely, nor to sinners
merely, but-" to all people."d  In the same manner the
multitude of the heavenly host shouted,  Glory to God in
the highest," because there was "peace on earth and good
will to men,"-i. e. to all mankind. In the same manner
Christ was the Saviour, not of the Jews only, but also of
the Gentiles. He is the Saviour of all men, but especially
of them that believe. In the gospel, all mankind receive
one common message. The gospel is to be preached to all
men. " Go ye," said Christ, as he was ascending to
heaven, "4 and preach the gospel to all nations."  The gos,
pel is to be preached to every creature.  The message of
reconciliation is to be sent to all men:without distinction.
L God," says Paul, "hath given to us the ministry of reconciliation; viz. that God is in Christ reconciling the
world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses to them,
and hath committed unto us the word of reconciliation."
He then tells us what this word is, and by whose authority
it is delivered.  " Now  then, we are embassadors for
Christ, as though God did beseech you by us, we pray you
in Christ's stead,' Be ye reconciled to God.'"  This was
the message from God, sent not to the heathen only, but;
to the whole world; and proclaimed, not merely to outlaws




THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE;            195
and profligates, but to every creature. ~ But a call to reconciliation implies enmity. By this call of the gospel,
then, all mankind are placed on one footing, and charged
with enmity to God, and the command to be reconciled, is
addressed to every creature without distinction.
Pardon is, in the same manner, offered to- all men indiscriminately; but pardon, I need not say, is the remission of
deserved punishment.
All men, I would add, are declared to be alike as to
their need of regeneration.  Christ was not speaking of
the Jews, nor of the heathen, nor of the abandoned and
profligate simply, when he said, "Except a man be born
again, he cannot see the kingdom  of God."  His proposition is as absolutely universal as language can make it.
The declaration, Except a man have eyes, he cannot see,
is equivalent to- the declaration, No man can see without
eyes. Of course Christ's words, Except a man be born
again, &c., is precisely equivalent to the words-No manr
who is not born again, can see the kingdom of God. Here,
then, there is no difference. 1Every man living, whatever his
native temper or character, must experience the change of
regeneration, if he is to be admitted into the kingdom  of
God.' If any man be in Christ, -he is a new creature."
"' Every one that loveth, is born of God."  "Every one
that believeth, or worketh righteousness, is born of God."
The agency of the Holy Spirit is just: as necessary to
produce this change in one as in another.  No degree of
sweetness of temper; no cultivation of the native virtues,
or of the social affections;- no external decency of character; no observance of the duties of religion,-will -exempt
any man froma this necessity.  Except a man be born of
the Spirit, he cannot enter the kingdom of God.  This excludes every man without distinction, who is not born of




196           THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE.
the Spirit.  "As many as believed" on the name of
Christ, says John, " were born, not of blood, nor of the
will of the.flesh, nor of the will of man, but of God."
All mankind stand on one common level as to justificaw
tion. All men, without exception, are declared incapable
of justification on the ground of obedience.  "By the
deeds of the law no flesh shall be justified."  We are
" saved, not of works, lest any man should boast."  To convince the Jews that this was true of every man, the Apostle tells them, that even Abraham could not be justified by
works.  " If Abraham were justified by works, he hath
whereof to glory."  In the same manner it is said, that
all who are justified, are justified by faith alone. Therefore we conclude, that a man is justified by faith, without
the deeds of the law."  "The righteousness of God, by
faith of Jesus Christ, is manifested upon all them that believe."  We are justified freely by his grace, through the
redemption that is in Christ J"esui
Neither, we may add, is any difference made between
one man and another in the requirements of the gospel.
Mark tells us, that Jesus came into Judea, preaching the
gospel of the kingdom, and saying, " Repent ye, and believe the gospel."  These commands are of universal application.  4 "Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." " God now commandeth all men every where to
repent."  "He that believeth, shall be saved; and he
that believeth not, shall be damned."  The most moral
and virtuous men must therefore repent and believe, as
truly as the most abandoned, if they are to obtain salvation; and will as certainly fail of it, if they do not.
In the article of death, all men are placed on one level.
Death is the wages of sin; and death has passed on all
-men, because all have sinned.  Not a child of Adam  is




THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE.             197
here exempt.  Whatever distinctions we may be disposed
to make between ourselves and others as to disposition, or
temper, or decency of life, death disregards them all, and
says to us, " You have earned your wages, return to- your
dust." This has been his solemn language to every one.
Of:all the unnumbered millions of men who have lived inr
past generations, there is not a solitary survivor. Multitudes of them, in every age, have boasted of their native
virtues, and thanked God they were not as other men-; but
death has laughed at those discriminations, and taught
them in a most affecting and awful manner that they were
" children of wrath," being children of disobedience, " even
as others."  Of all who are now living or shall live hereafter, not one will fail to receive this: distressing conviction
that there is no difference.  Death, the common leveller
of all terrestrial distinctions, sent by God as the common
executioner of the human race, will treat the man of
respectability and virtue with as- little ceremony as the
outlaw and the profligate.  There is no difference, either,
as to the circumstances of death.  The amiable, virtuous
man, dies as early as the villian. -His death is attended
with equal suffering and equal humiliation..- Go to the
chamber of sickness, where  the man thus most distinguished is expiring, and then repair to the dying bed of
the most abandoned of mankind, and you will see that all
these distinctions are -vanished and forgotten.  You will
see them both writhing and tossing with pain; their flesh
is alike wasted; the face of one is as pale and ghastly as
that of the other; the voice of each is dumb; a common
palsy benumbs their limbs; the same cold sweat settles on
their foreheads; the:pulse of life in both is still; the lamp
of life is for each put out in never ending darkness: See
them in their coffins, and one is as quiet,, as powerless, as
17*




1t98-         TIIERE IS NO DIFFERENCE.
loathsome as the other, and needs as much to be removed
from the sight of all the living. Follow them to their
burial. They lie side by side under the same clod of the
valley. The grave of one is as deep, dark, silent, as that
of the other. One of them as truly as the other may
"say to corruption, thou art my father, and to the worm,
thou art my mother and my sister." They will mould
with equal rapidity into one common dust, and in a few
years, every trace of both will be blotted out from under
heaven.
The judryvent day also tells us, that there is no difference.  I have already remarked that Paul is here speaking of men in their natural, unrenewed state, and that hehas no reference to the distinction made between them by
the grace of God.  That difference, I admit, is very great,
and it will bb seen and felt to be infinitely great, on the
final trial. But when the Judge shall separate mankind,
he will divide them into two classes only, the righteous and
the wicked; and the righteous will consist of those, and
of those only, who are clothed in the robes of Christ's
righteousness and not in their own. Those on the right
hand will all have been renewed by the grace of God;
will confess that they deserve condemnation, even as
others; and that it is grace alone which has made them to
differ; and will place all their hope in the blood of Christ.
Those on the left hand will stand in one promiscuous
crowd, and will be grouped together as the common enemies of God and the kingdom  of holiness.  The earthly
distinctions of birth, education, manners, rank, talents, and
fortune, as well as of respectability and decency of life,
will be all forgotten. The man who was here cheerful,
sweet-tempered, affable in his manners, liberal, amiable,
and compassionate in his disposition, if he died in impeni



THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE.             199
tence- and unbelief, will then see himself placed side by
side with another, who was habitually gloomy, morose,
jealous, covetous,-who was violent, ambitious, unfeeling,
and revengeful.  He who prided himself in the purity of
his morals, will perceive that the Judge has not separated
him from the vile and the profligate. However respectable
in the view of his fellow-men; however numerous or great
in degree his virtues; however distant he thought and
kept himself from  the abandoned in this world, when he
then looks on his companions on the right and the left,
before and behind him, will behold among them, liars,
thieves, and robbers, adulterers, and murderers, and see
himself regarded by the Judge as possessing a common
character of guilt and debasement, and involved with them
in a common ruin.  When the trial is finished, the same
sentence of reprobation, " Depart, ye cursed, into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his angels," will be
pronounced on them  both.  They will go away in one indiscriminate crowd to receive the same dreadful allotment.
They will be all shut up in the same prison; will be companions with one another, and with devils and damned
spirits, will drink from the same vials of unmingled wrath,
and will be shrouded in the same blackness of darkness
forever.
What, then, in conclusion, are the practical reflections
which we should universally make. As one of these, I
may say, we perceive the reason why the doctrines of
grace havte been so unpopular and offensive. When Christ
preached to Nicodemus the universal necessity of regeneration to Jew and Gentile, the latter exclaimed with astonishment, " How can these things be?"  Paul tells us that
the cross of Christ was "to the Jews a stumbling-block
and to the Greeks foolishness."  The reason was, that




200.          THERE IS' NO DIFFERENCE.
Christ: died for all. He was a propitiation for the sins of
the whole world.  No man could come to the Father butby him. All were reduced by his cross to one common
level of sin and ruin.  Had ihe taught us, that those only
whom we regard as vile and profligate, need to be cleansed
by his blood, and must be born again,-but that we, who
regard ourselves as amiable and moral, as cherishing kind
and good feelings towards others, and as deserving and
receiving firom them the meed of respectability and worth,
need not be born again,-the offence of the cross would
have wholly ceased, and all its enemies, Jews, Mohammedans, heathens, atheists, and infidels, both speculative and
practical, would have been numbered among its firiends. I
do notr say this from mere conjecture, but found the declaration on facts.  The bitterest:enemies of the cross of
Christ are those who deny the doctrines of regeneration
and atonement; who say that they themselves need no
change of heart, and who expect to be justified without
the:cleansing efficacy of the Redeemer's blood.
As clearly are we instructed as to the true value of the
native virtues of the human heart.
These unquestionably render us agreeable and amiable
in all the relations of the present life. But this life is but
a moment; and yet the character here formed endures
through eternity. Death introduces us to the world of
spirits; to heaven or to hell.  The one, a world of unmingled holiness and joy, —the other, of unmingled sin and
misery, are the only regions which we shall then inhabit.
What will be then thought of these virtues, my hearer,
which you now so highly value? Whether you possess any
or all of them, and in whatever degree, they now make no
difference between you and others in the view of God;
He pronounces you to'be as truly fallen, without holiness,




THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE.           201
and desperately wicked; to be as really condemned already; that the tidings of the gospel are as joyful tidings
to you; and that the command, "1 Be ye reconciled to God,"
is as truly addressed to you, as he affirms these of robbers
and adulterers. He asserts also, that you as truly require the
blood of Christ to wash away your guilt, and the influences
of the Spirit to remove your pollution; that you are utterly incapable of being justified by any works of righteousness which you have done; that the commands of the
gospel, "' Repent and believe," are as fully addressed to
you, as binding on you, and as indispensably necessary to
be obeyed; that death as certainly awaits you, in as distressing and awful circumstances; that your body will be
as low in the grave and moulder into as humble common
dust; that, if unrenewed by the grace of God, you will
stand in the judgment on the same left hand, will hear the
same sentence of damnation, be shut up in the same prison.
and linger out the same eternity of hopeless misery, as
those whom you now regard as the vilest of mankind. I
appeal to your own conscience, if in each case, I have not
proved from the express declaration of the word of God,
every one of these positions.  If so, they are true.  Of
what avail then are those virtues in which you boast yourselves, and on which you fondly rely?  They are nothing
but a mask, which you draw over the face of your soul;
which prevents you from appearing to yourself and to
others as you appear to the eye of God. But, believe me,
death will strip off this mask, and shew you in your real
character -to your own eyes; and, when you drop the body,
and go naked and without disguise into the world of spirits,
where all things are seen in their true colors, you will
appear to yourself and to every being in the universe just
as you now appear to the eye of God. There the dread



202.          THERE IS NO DIFFERENCE.
ful glory of G-od shines with unclouded -brightness, and in
its intolerable light, wicked beings will see all the features
of guilt and impurity which make up their own moral picture, -Cast away then all -dependence on your own virtues; trust alone to the righteousness of Christ



MAKE YOU A NEW HEART.
EZEKIEL ~ XVIII:  31.
Make you a new heart.
TnIS is a command of God, addressed to impenitent
men. That it binds the conscience like every other divine
command, and was given to be obeyed, must be admitted.
It is a command, however, to which little or no attention is
ordinarily paid by those to whom it is addressed. Many
seem not to know, that such a command is to be found in
the Bible.  Others, if they know  this, are unmoved.
Others, still, deny that they need a new heart. And others, when the command, s "Make you a new heart," is
brought home to them, reply, that they cannot do this.
To individuals of the first three classes I shall not now
address myself. If there are any such persons present, I
will barely remind them, that, when God utters this command, "Make you a new heart," he subjoins, "For. why
will ye die?" I need not explain what this death is. Yet
this is the awful motive which God himself has suggested,
to prompt them to an immediate compliance.
To persons of the fourth class, to those who allege that
they cannot make themselves a new heart, our attention




204           MAKE YOU A NEW HEART.
will now be directed.  The number of these is very great.
Rarely indeed, do I urge this duty on any individual, but
he replies,-" I ought to be a Christian, and I wish sincerely that I was one.  But we cannot convert ourselves.
We must wait God's time. If we do as well as we can,
God will do the rest."
Unhappily for the church, this is no new language.
When the heretic, Pelagius, in the fifth century, denied
that the Holy Spirit changes the heart, and contended that
men actually change their own hearts, Augustin and his
friends, to destroy this error root and branch, insisted that
men not only want inclination, but capacity, to change
their own hearts and turn to God.  If they were willing
to do this, they would be still unable.
This unhappy mistake has been handed down from that
hour to the present.  The reformers were too much occupied to detect it.  We find it, therefore, incorporated in
all the creeds and confessions of the Protestant churches.
In the writings of some eminent divines, we do indeed
read that the sinner's impenitence is charged upon his
choice, but at other times they represent him as destitute
of capacity to repent. Even Baxter, the most consistent
of them all, is at times inconsistent with himself.
The truth is, that the subject of moral agency has not
been thoroughly investigated by the divines of Europe.
No one of them has given the world a treatise on this subject, in any high degree important or valuable.  Andrew
Fuller, the only exception to this remark, acknowledges
the source whence his own views were derived. It was
the divines of our own country who first vindicated the
moral government of God; who taught mankind that God
does not require bricks without having first given them




MAKE YOU A NEW HEART.              205
straw; and that nothing hinders men from doing their
duty but the want of inclination,
This truth was first promulgated in our own churches
about seventy years ago. It was at first vigorously opposed, but it is now universally received by the ministers
of New England.  Within a few years it has made rapid
progress in the regions lying south and west; and it has
already found numerous and powerful friends and defenders on the other side of the Atlantic.  The time is not
distant, when, on this subject, " the eyes of them that see
shall not be dim;" when no preacher shall tell the impenitent sinner that God has commanded him' to do what he
has not the capacity to perform.
Though this truth is so extensively received by ministers
and Christians, yet it has made but little progress among
those who are not Christians. Even now, when we urge
the sinner to repent, he almost of course tells us that he
cannot. The reason is obvious. He was taught so when
a child, and he loves the delusion. He knows that God
commands him to repent, if he would not perish. But to
do this, he is neither ready nor willing. When you press
this command home upon his conscience, and this danger
upon his fears, if he cannot find some lurking-place, he
will be compelled to submit. What his shelter is, he cares
not, if he can only live undisturbed. At first he says, perhaps, with Pelagius,'" Men are free agents; they do convert themselves. I can safely postpone repentance for the
present, and turn to God by and by." Should you take
the sword of the Spirit, which is the word of God, and
drive him from this refuge, he flies to another. lie then
concludes with the Arminian: " Religion is a gradual
thing.  I do not believe in these sudden conversions. The
seed must be sown, and by and by there will be a crop.
18




206           MAKE' YOU- A:fNEW HEART.
-I must use the means-of grace, and God will do the rest."
If you force him from this- retreat also, he resorts to the
doctrine of efficacious grace.    No man can convert himself.  We must wait-God's time.  Our own efforts will not
avail.- All that we do before- regeneration, is sin.  When
God is pleased to convert us, he will convert us."  Here
his conscience is lulled, and his-fears are laid asleep. God
indeed commands him to repent, -but -he cannot, and therefore it is not his duty to attempt it.
From this ":refuge of lies" the sinner must be driven,
or he will perish.- No man feels -guilty for sinning, if he
thinks he could not help it; and no- man will attempt to
repent, if he knows that he- cannot. Pour the arrows of
truth -upon him like hail; under this shelter, not one of
them can reach him.  The: only resource is to drive him
from his lurking-place, and then to prostrate it in the dust.
Many of you, my hearers, I doubt not, have found
a shelter under this miserable delusion.  When urged to
repent, you say that you cannot; and you have said this so
often and believed it so long, that you deem it a doctrine of
the Bible. He who attempts to refute it, seems to be
driving you from a refuge which the Bible has furnished
you for continuing in impenitency.  Alas! if it were indeed true, you would be in a fearful condition.  You cannot repent; and yet, if you do not, you must perish.
In discussing -the subject-which is thus suggested, I shall
consider:
The meaning of the command, that the sinner make
himself a new heart.
The meaning of his excuse, that he cannot do this.
To what extent his excuse is valid.
The real difficulty of his rendering obedience.




MARXE YOU A -NEW IHEART.,          207
1. The meaning of the command. In the language of
the Bible, "a new heart" is a heart which -repents of sin;
which believes in Jesus Christ.; which loves God and obeys
him.  For a sinner:to make himself a- new heart, is the
same thing as to begin to repent and believe, to love and
obey.  The text, then, is an express command of God to
impenitent sinners, to begin the exercise of repentance,
faith, and love.
2. The meaning of the excuse, that he cannot make
himself a new heart. - This excuse is capable of two interpretations.  By the words cannot, unable, impossible, we
sometimes denote the want of natural capacity;-for example, the want of knowledge, of understanding, or of
bodily strength; and sometimes, the want of inclination.
When a: man wants natural capacity to do some particular
thing, we call that which prevents him a natural or physical inability; when he wants inclination merely, we call it
a moral inability.
The Scriptures use these words in both these meanings.
They say, that with God "' all things are possible," and yet
they say, " It is impossible for God to lie."  These two
passages would contradict each other, did not the first refer;
to a physical, and the latter to a, moral impossibility. In'
the same manner we say, that the:Devil cannot love. In
this we do not allege natural incapacity as an excuse for
his malice; we only mean, that his infernal disposition pre-p
vents him from the exercise of love.
We apply this language to all the common concerns of
life. An honest man cannot steal, because he is incapable
of such villany.  If a thief cannot steal,.it is because
nothing is within his reach.  The poor widow could not
give., because she had previously cast her two mites into
the treasury.  The miser cannot give, because he will not.




208           MAKE YOU A NEW HEART.,
The sick man cannot work, because his strength is gone;
the sluggard, because he is too indolent.  In all languages
we find words corresponding with cannot, unable, impossible,
used to denote merely the want of inclination. There is
a real propriety in using language in this manner, and for
two reasons. One is, that our disinclination to do a thing is
strong enough to render it just as certain that it will not
be done, as the want of capacity would render it. Thus,
it is as certain that the ever-blessed God will not lie, as if
he had not capacity to lie. It is as certain that a holy
angel will not sin, and that an infernal spirit will not repent,
as if a natural impossibility prevented them. The other
reason is, that, while a want of inclination to do a given
thing lasts, it is impossible that it should be done.  Thus,
so long as I do not choose to raise my arm to my head, it
is as impossible to raise it as if the arm were dead; and
if I never should choose to raise it, I should never be able.
When, therefore, the sinner says, " I cannot make myself a new heart," or in other words, " I cannot begin to
repent, and believe, and love," his language is liable to
two very different constructions.  It may either mean, " I
am not willing to repent, to trust in Christ, to love God
and obey him," or it may mean, 6" I have not the necessary
faculties to enable me to repent, and believe, and love."
9. To what extent is the sinner's excuse valid?  If by
this language he intends that God has not given him the
faculties necessary to enable him to repent, and this be
true, the excuse is a good one. In this affirmation, common sense and the Bible perfectly harmonize.  The idiot
acts like a fool, yet no one blames him. The lunatic may
utter profaneness or blasphemy,-may destroy his own life
or the life of his neighbor, yet for these acts no one holds
him responsible. An impenitent sinner may become del —




MAKE YOU A NEW HEART.              209
rious, and if he dies in this state, he will perish, yet the
preacher who should visit such a man and then tell him
that it was his duty to repent, would be deemed a lunatic
himself..
The Scriptures confirm this decision of common sense.
They make our capacity the measure of our obligations,
In the parable of the talents, of him who received ten,
other ten were required, so also of him who received five,
and so of him who received one;   of every man," says
our Lord, " according to his several ability.": Had there
been a servant who received nothingr of him nothing would
have been required. We know that this is true in the case
of the idiot. To him nothing is given, and of him nothing
is required.  On the same principle, " To him  that knoweth to do good and doeth it not, to him  it is sin."  His
knowing, or not knowing, decides the question of guilt or
innocence. On the same principle, " where there is no law,
there is no transgression."  Where is there no law?  The
answer is: When the law is absolutely unknown. On the
same principle, our Lord says to the Pharisees, " If ye
were blind," i. e. if ye had no knowledge of your duty,
ye should have no sin."  In the final day, as we learn,
a wide difference will be made among those who are to be
the subjects of punishment, and this will be precisely
measured by their difference of knowledge and capacity.
"He who knew his Lord's will, and did it not," like the
impenitent sinner under the gospel, " shall be beaten with
many stripes."  lIe who knew not " his Lord's will," or,
who knew it imperfectly, 1" and did it not," like the impenitent heathen, though even his knowledge renders him
without excuse, " shall be beaten with few stripes."  And
he who knew it not at all, and did it not, like the idiot,
shall not be beaten at all. Though this is the general rule
18$




210           MAKE YOU A NEW HEARI.
of God's government, and the obvious rule of justice, it
may be imagined that an exception is made in the doctrine
of original sin.  But God takes effectual care in the Bible
to guard against this mistake. He tells us that the son shall
not bear the iniquity of the father; that the righteousness
of the righteous shall be upon him, and the wickedness of
the wicked upon him; that the soul that sinneth, it shall
die; and that every man shall bear his own iniquity. In:other words, no man shall bear the punishment of Adam's
transgression, but merely of his own.
If, then, my hearer, you have no capacity to obey the
command in the text, you are as excusable for not obeying
it, as an idiot, or a lunatic, or a beast of the field. The
command is not addressed to you. Christ does indeed say
to his ministers, "Go, preach my gospel to every creature."
An idiot is a creature, and so is a beast of the field. Yet
the minister of Christ is not to carry the gospel to them,
nor to command them to repent. And why not? Because they have not the requisite capacity. If, then, you
have not the requisite capacity to repent, the gospel, for
the same reason, is not sent to you, and repentance is not
your duty. If there be such a person present, I unhesitatingly say to his friends, (he will not understand me
himself,) you need not let your unhappy relative come to
this sacred place. He has no more to do with the Sabbath, or the sanctuary, or the Bible, than an idiot or a
lunatic.  If he has been always thus destitute of capacity,
you need not entertain any apprehensions as to his destiny.
To whom nothing is given, of the same will nothing be required.  If heretofore he had capacity and lost it, there is
no remedy, for, unless God restores it, nothing can be
done.
But your excuse, " I cannot make myself a new heart,"




MAsKE YOU A NEW HEART.              211
may mean, " I have no inclination to repent, nor to believe,
nor to love God."  If you mean this, the excuse will not
avail you. What is its real import? That you love sin
too well to renounce it, or to trust in H-Iin who offers to
save you from it, or to love God and obey him.  Your excuse, then, lies in the fact that you love sin, or in the deg2ree to which you love it.
I appeal to your own conscience, whether either of these
excuses can be pronounced valid. Will the fact that you
love sin and are unwilling to renounce it, avail you?  Can
any being commit sin who does not love it? Can he go on
in sin unless he is unwilling to renounce it? Will not this
plea, then, excuse all the sin that has ever been committed?
Is not this love to sin, itself sin?  Do you not, then, plead
your sin as an excuse for your sin? And do you think
that your Omniscient Judge is weak enough to be thus
blinded?
But you will say, " I am  a descendant of apostate
Adam.  I was conceived in sin, and shapen in iniquity.
When I sin, I only indulge the propensities of my nature.
God gave me these propensities, and I cannot resist them."
If you mean that, in consequence of the fall of Adam,
you have lost the faculty of willing and choosing, I deny
it, and appeal to the Bible and to your own consciousness
for evidence that you are mistaken.  There is not an hour
of your life in which you do not choose or refuse.  I also
reply that, if you can prove that you have lost this faculty,
you are not a moral agent-you are not an accountable
being, and have never sinned. If you mean that, in consequence of the fall of Adam, you and all his posterity do
sin, and love to sin, and choose to sin, I admit it. But
how, I ask, does any being incur guilt?  By choosing to
sin.  If, then, you choose to sin, God will not ask the




212           MAKE YOU A NEW HEART.
question, How you came to choose it? Acting as a parent,
you never think of askingp, how your child came to choose
to disobey you?  Sitting as a judge, you do not ask, how
the murderer came to choose to destroy his neighbor's life,
or the thief to take his neighbor's property.  All you ask
in either case is, was the act a voluntary, wilful act? To
justify punishment, all that is necessary is, to find an accountable being who has chosen to break a law which he
was bound to obey.  This is exactly your case.
Or will the degrtee to which you love sin, avail you?
Let me then ask, Is your little child, who has just begun to
disobey you, guilty and deserving of punishment; and is
an older child who has been long and obstinately rebellious,
innocent? ~ Will you pursue and punish the young and faltering offender because he has violated the law of the state
whenhe was afraid to do it, and will you let the old and
hardened offender escape because he loved the villany so
well that he could not help it?  Do you excuse Satan
because he is so full of all subtlety and all malice that he
cannot help perpetrating every crime within his reach?
What an excuse will this be in the eye of Omniscience!
On the judgment day, those unhappy beings who will be
sentenced to the lowest hell, may all allege this intense
love of sin as their apology; and this very apology,-their
intense love of sin,-will be the cause of their singularly
dreadful sentence. Are you, then, secretly relying on
such an excuse as this?  Go to your closet.  Meet the
God whom you are refusing to obey, face to face, and there
settle this controversy. There, while you remember that
he is looking at you and surveying your heart, look up and
say to him, " I love sin so well that I cannot forsake it."
Honestly make the experiment. If it is a good excuse, it
will stand in the judgment, and if you can urge it then,




MAKE YOU A NEW HEART.              213
you can urge it now. Do not think of trusting to any
excuse in that hour of awful decision, at which your voice
would falter were you to utter it now. Try it, then, when
you leave this house. Your soul is worth the experiment.
4. What is the real difficulty of the sinner's obeying
this command?  This question is entirely practical.  No
person ever becomes in earnest concerning his salvation,
who is not compelled to answer it.
This difculty, I would then observe, is not on the side
of God.  There is no defect in the atonement of Christ.
This is full and comjlete; as full for Judas as it is for
Peter; so that God can be just, and yet justify every one
who believeth in Jesus.
Neither are you prevented, my hearer, by the want of
knowledge, for you have all the knowledge that the Bible
contains.
God will not take any pleasure in your death.  " As I
live, saith the Lord God, I have no pleasure in the death
of the wicked." You will not allege that God is unwilling
that you should repent.  Why has he revealed his word,
and given his Son, and sent his Spirit, if he is not willing?
You will not assert that Christ is not willing. Iie who
hung on the Cross, need furnish you no evidence thbat he is
willing to save sinners.
You are not prevented by the want of invitations.
" Come unto me," says Christ from his throne of glory,
all ye that labour and are heavy laden, and I will give
you rest."
The greatness of your sins does not prevent you.
" Though your sins be as scarlet, they shall be white as
snow; though they be red like crimson, they shall be as
wool."
On the side of God, then, nothing exists, to prevent the




214:          MAKE YOU A NEW HEART.
sinner from obeying the command of the text, but everythinfg to prompt him to render obedience.
This difficulty, I also remark, consists not in the Sinner's need of any additional faeculties.  You cannot name
the faculty that is wanting.  I make the appeal directly- to
your conscience. What is that faculty of the mind, which,
were you to possess it, you could repent?  This question
has been put a thousand times, and no man, ChrIstian or
sinner, has ever yet given the answer.
What faculty, I would ask again, has the mind of a
Christian, which your mind possesses not?  Know you not
nmany real Christians, of inferior talents and knowledge to
your own? Here your pride of understanding will give
me an affirmative answer.
I will, then, enumerate your faculties.  You have an
understanding, to know God and his right to your obedience.  You have a conscience, to feel the weight of obligation.  You have intense desires for happiness, and an
intense aversion to misery. You have motives strong
enough in heaven and hell, if motives can be strong
enough to prompt you to repentance.  Finally, you have
a heart that can sorrow, and trust, and love.
I then inquire, what other faculties possesses the Christian, or what others do you need, to render you capable of
becoming a Christian? Perhaps, however, you will reply:
" I need a relish for spiritual objects.  Did I possess this,
I should become a Christian."  I admit, that if you possessed a relish for spiritual objects, that you would already
be a Christian, but not that you would become a Christian.
But you deceive yourself by this figurative word, relish. Our
relish for the various kinds of food depends on the bodily
appetite, and is not a mere matter of choice.  But it is not
thus with the relishes of the mind. What do I mean when




MAKE YOU A. NEW- HEART.           215
affirming that I relish bread?  That I love bread. What
do I mean when affirming that I relish the character of
God? That I love God. When, therefore, you tell me,
that you have no relish for the character of God, and that,'therefore, you cannot love him, —but strip the declaration
of the figurative dress in which you have disguised it, and
we have the naked fact, that you do not love the character
of God, and therefore you cannot love him.  On your own
ground, the want of love is the only difficulty, and not the
want of ceapacity.
But this plea, that the sinner has not capacity, is to accuse God of injustice and folly. In his law, God commands
every man to love him. In the gospel, God commands
every man to repent and believe. You say, that you have
not capacity to obey these commands. What then should
we think of God, if he had said to the stones of the streets,
" Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy heart?"
If he had said to the beasts of the field, " Repent ye;"
if he had said to the fowls of heaven,' Believe on the
Lord Jesus Christ."  Why would this have been folly?
Merely because stones and beasts and birds have no
capacity to obey. If they had this capacity, they would
be proper subjects of moral government.  If, then, sinners have no capacity, the folly of giving you these commands is equally great.  Still more palpably would these
commands be marked with injustice. God not only commands; he affixes a most awful sanction. What should
we say of the parent who had required his child to do what
he could not do, and had then threatened a severe punishment if the child should not obey?  What say you of
Nebuchadnezzar, who ordered his wise men to be cut in
pieces because they could not discover a dream which he
had forgotten?  Yet when the judgment of the great day




216           MAKE YOU A NEW HEART.
is over, God will send away great multitudes into everlasting punishment because they did not love him, and other
multitudes because they did not repent of sin and believe
in Christ. What kind of a government, then, does Jeho.
vah exercise over his creatures? He first commands what
they cannot perform, and then punishes them through eternal ages because they do not obey.  Surely this is despotism without a parallel. And is Jehovah such a tyrant as
this?  Will you go and meet him and tell him this; and
intend you, when he summons you to your trial, to rise up
before the assembled universe and excuse your disobedience, by substantiating this charge against his character?
You may allege, that man originally had the needed
capacity, but has lost it. This does not remove the difficulty, even in the case of Adam. A man is guilty, and
ought to be punished, for putting out his own eyes.  Yet
when they are once put out, and you have punished him
for that offence, you would not then also punish him because he could not see.  But, if Adam was guilty for not
obeying, after he had lost his original capacity, his children
were not guilty.  They never forfeited their capacity, for
they never had it. If they had lost their reason by the
fall of Adam, would this command be binding on them?
Why not?  It would have been just as true then, as now,
that man originally had capacity, and that he afterwards
lost it. And if loss of capacity would not have exempted
from obedience then, neither does it exempt now.
The slothful servant brought the same charge against his
Lord: 6 Lord, I knew thee, that thou art a hard man;
reaping where thou hast not sown, and gathering where
thou hast not strawed."  This was his excuse for doing
nothing. But the charge was false. When his Lord commanded his fellow-servants to bind him hand and foot and




MARME YOU A NEW HEART.             217
to cast him into outer darkness, he appealed to the very
talent which the servant had brought wrapped in a napkin,
to prove its falsehood and to justify his own sentence. Yet
the impenitent sinner not only wraps his own'talents in a
napkin, but wastes his iord's money; and then, to excuse
his sloth and perverseness, brings this very charge against
the righteousness of God, Look well, then, my friend, to
the ground on which you stand. You are intending to go
to the bar of God, and there to justify yourself for a life
of disobedience against Him.  Believe me, God understands himself. He knows what he is doing, when he commands you to repent. He will not commit his character,
in the face of heaven and earth. He tells you, that he
will be seen and felt to be just, when he judges.  "Hath
he spoken, and shall he not make it good?" Will you,
then, rise up in the judgment and say to him, "I knew
thee, that thou wert a hard master, reaping where thou
hadst not sown, and gathering where thou hadst not
strewed." Take care lest he reply, " Out of thine own
mouth will I judge thee, thou wicked and slothful servant."
The very language of the law also proves that want of
capacity does not prevent obedience. Its language is,
" Thou shalt love the Lord thy God with all thy strength;
i. e. as much as thou canst.  Can you not love God, as
much as you can love him?  No matter, then, what your
capacity is; you can obey this law. If you cannot love
God at all, you obey it in not loving him at all.
According to this scheme, I may add, there is no mercy
shown in God's government. If men can not obey the
law, to punish them for disobedience is despotism. Of
course, there can be no mercy in pardoning- them, for mercy is deliverance from deserved punishment.
What an exhibition, thern, is made of the justice, the
19




218          MAKE YOU' A: NEW HEARTo
wisdom, and the grace of God!   iHis- justice commands
them to do what they:cannot, under the penalty of eternal
death. And then, rather than that one jot or tittle of this
unjust law fail, he gives his Son to die on the cross, to
deliver them from a most unjust punishment. He then
offers them salvation on the conditions of faith and repentance,-conditions with which they have not capacity to
comply, and yet threatens them with a far sorer punishment if they do not comply. iDid Jesus then ascend the
cross, and did the multitude of the heavenly host come
down, shouting, " Glory to God in the highest,"-to mock
a ruined world with such an offer as this?
Facts also prove that the sinner wants not capacity to
obey this command.'Not many wise men after the
flesh, not many mighty, —are called; but God hath chosen
the weak things of the world to confound the mighty, and
the foolish things of the world to confound the wise."  "I
thank thee, 0 Father! Lord of heaven and earth, that
thou hast hid these things from the wise and prudent, and
revealed them unto babes.-" The same has been- true in
every age. In the day when God shall-separate the righteous from the wicked, it will appear, that many little children had capacity enough to repent and believe, while men
of wisdom and- experience had not.  Then, multitudes of
the feeblest intellect will be found to have been wise unto
salvation, where men of brilliant talents and powerful
understanding have been confounded.  Then, the poor
degraded HIottentot, scarce elevated above the beasts that
perish, will be found to have loved the Lord his God, while
the scholar and the gentleman of Europe and America,
educated in the dwelling of refinement, and -perhaps of
piety, could not love.
The reason for the-necessity of the Holy Spirit's renew



MAKE YOU -A  NEW -. EART.:-         2'19
ing agency also proves, that there is no defect in the sinner's capacity.  Were there any such defect, the first
thing for the Spirit to: do would be to remove it.  But
when this Omniscient Agent comes to the sinner's mind
and examines it within and without, his eye is: able to discover no such defect as this. Every power and faculty of
the soul is in full exercise.  I-e finds sufficient understanding, and knowledge, and memory, and imagination.  He
finds a will which chooses and refuses, and affections which
can love and hate, can hope and fear, can rejoice and be
sorry.  He finds a conscience which is able, if the sinner
has not seared it with a hot iron, to distinguish between
right and wrong, and to feel the weight of obligation.  All
is right, but the will and the affections. -Nothing hinders
the sinner but an unwilling heart, and all that the Spirit
does is to render it willing.
This difficulty, I would then remark, is merely the want
of inclination. It follows, irresistibly, from what has been
already proved.  We have seen that, on the side of God,
every difficulty in the sinner's way is removed.  God also
commands him to repent. - He offers him  heaven, if he
obeys; and tells him that hell is his portion, if he disobeys.
The sinner, we have seen, is also able to repent; still he
refuses, and does:not; repent. - But if he is:not prevented
from without, and has also the requisite capacity, what can
prevent him but the want of inclination?
The Scriptures allege this as the reason.-: They do this,
in their commands.  They say to the sinner, " Choose you
this day whom you will serve.". - They say, " Whosoever
will, let- him take of the water of life."
They do so, in assigning the reasons of: his punishment.
He is punished because he hated knowledge, and did not
choose the fear of the Lord.  They, who are excluded




220           MAKE YOU A NEW HEART.
from the marriage supper, are those who are bidden and
would not come.
They do this, in express declarations.' Ye will not
come to me, that ye might have life."  " Ye hate the
light, and will not come to the light, lest you-r deeds should
be reproved."
What takes place in the sinner's conversion shews this.
This may be well illastrated by a familiar case. You learn
that your child is beating his brother, and send a servant
commandinfg hm to stop.  The servant delivers the message, and the child knows that it comes from yourself.
ZBut, because you are at a distance, and he does not see
you, he refuses obedience and still persists. You yourself
then come in sight, and raise your hand, or speak to him;
he then stops in a moment. God sees the sinner transgressing his law every day and hour, and holding on his
course to perdition. He sends his servant, with a message
to the sinner, commanding him  to stop.  "Stop, sinner,
says the servant of God, or you will perish." The sinner
knows that the message comes from God.  But God is out
of sight, and the danger at a distance, and the gratification at hand; and he will not stop. By and by the Spirit
of God comes to the sinner, and looks at him, and speaks
to him with his still small voice; and the sinner, looking
up, sees and knows that it is God himself who commands
him to stop. Now, indeed, he stops, and is willing to repent, but he loved sin so well that, like the child, he would
not do it when the message of God was brought to him by
a servant. My hearer, you here see your precise case. I
come as the servant of God, and bring you his message.
You know that it is his command, but you will not obey.
Your excuse is, that God does not come to you in person,
and bring you the message himself, The child was just




MAKE YOU A NEW HEART.             221
as able to stop when the servant spoke to him, as when he
saw his father approaching. You are just as able to repent, when the servant of God commands you, in his name
to repent, and as fully know it to be your immediate duty,;
as you would be if God himself were to approach and make
you feel that he thus commanded you. Remember that
God himself is present when his servant delivers you.
this message.  He observes and-records the manner in
which you treat his command; and he does it to bring it
out on your trial as the ground and measure of your last
sentence.
This Discussion- would. be incomplete, without several
Reflections. We understand what the sinner's excuse
means. When the embassador of God brings to him the
command to repent and believe, the sinner's lips say, "' I
cannot," but his heart says, "I will not."  This, my
friend, is precisely the answer which God himself hears
uttered by your heart every time that his known: command
is brought to your mind. - Remember, that you utter this
language when you know that God is in sight, and when,
if you would but open your eyes, you would see his eye
fixed upon you and marking your decision.  This is the
very language which he will now hear you utter, if you
now refuse to obey him. And do you wonder that he,
who knows his Lord's will and did- it not, shall be beaten
with many stripes? Does the declaration of Christ surprise you, that "' it shall be more tolerable for Sodom and
Gomorrah, in the day of judgment, than for you?"
The meaning of the awakened sinner's excuse, when he
says, " My heart is so wicked, that I cannot repent," is
thus also understood. My hearer, what is your heart?
It is yourself. Do-not, then, lay the blame on your heart,
and thus shift it from yourself. Tell the simple, naked
19*




222           MARE YOU A NEW HEART.
truth: "I am so wicked, that I will not love God, nor forsake my sins, nor trust in my Saviour."
Equally evident is the nature of the sinner's dependence
on the HIoly Spirit for regeneration. It is a mnoral dependence, merely. The sinner is so wicked that he will never
turn to God, unless the Holy Ghost turns him. If he
would but choose salvation himself, he would have it. Because he will not choose it himself, the Spirit of God comes
to him and renders him willing.
Let me urge you, then, my unforgiven hearer, to lay
aside every excuse, and listen to the known and plain commands of God. Needs it much faith to believe, that the
commands of God are reasonable and right? Calls it for
much sacrifice of pride, to admit that you cannot offer a
good excuse for disobeying God? If God commands, and
you refuse to obey, either you or God, must be in the
wrong; and which, think you, in the day of judgment, will
make out his case?  Until you abandon every evasion, and
every attempt at evasion, and come to this conclusion,   I
can have no excuse for disobeying God," you will never
repent.
When, then, does God command you to repent? Now.
To-day. This hour. Did you not seek to hide yourself
behind some " refuge of lies," you would be compelled this
very moment to repent of your sins, or directly to brave
the wrath of the Almighty.
Come, then, and let your heart say what your conscience
has already said,-" God commands me to repent now: I
have no excuse for disobeying him; I will not seek to find
one. I will arise, and go to my Father, and will say unto
him, "Father, I have sinned against heaven, and before
thee." Believe me, that, while you are yet a great way
off, he will have compassion on you. While he welcomes




MAKE YOU A NEW HEART.               223
you to his family as a returning child, he will say to those
who surround his throne, " Rejoice with me, my children, this day; for this my son was dead, and is alive
again; he was lost and is found."




REGENERATION, A SOVEREIGN WORK.
J OHN III:  8.
THE WIND BLOWETH WHERE IT LISTETH, AND THOU I-IEAREST THE SOUND THEREOF, BUT CANST NOT TELL WHENCE
IT COMETH, NOR WHITHER IT GOETH: SO IS EVERY ONE
THAT IS BORN OF THE SPIRIT.
OUR Lord declares in the context, that a man must be
born of the Spirit, to enter into the kingdom of God.
For this he assigns two reasons. The first is, that he who
has not been born of the Spirit, but has merely experienced
the first or natural birth, is not fit for the kingdom. " That
which is born of the flesh, is flesh." The second is, that
he who is born of the Spirit, is fit for it. I" That which is
born of the Spirit, is spirit. In the text he points out the
manner in which the Spirit operates, in effecting this
change.  "The wind bloweth where it listeth, and thou
hearest the sound thereof, but canst not tell whence it
cometh and whither it goeth, so is every one that is born
of the Spirit." In this comparison we should observe, in
what respects the blowing of the wind and the influence of




REGENERATION, A SOVEREIGN WORK.    225
the Spirit in regeneration are said to resemble each other.
Both are free, on their part; both are uncontrollable, on
ours; and both are secret.  " The wind bloweth where it
listeth." No man can regulate the wind, and determine
in what direction it shall blow. So far from this, he cannot tell whence it cometh, nor from what place it takes its
rise, nor from what cause it proceeds. No man can determine what effects it will produce.  So far from this, he
does not even know whither it goeth.  In the same manner the Spirit of God works as he pleases. No one can
regulate his operations. No one can foretell at what time,
in what place, and in what persons, they will commence,
nor to what extent they will be carried on.
We are thus taught, that the Holy Spirit is entirely free
and sovereign in the work of regeneration. In illustrating
this principle, 1 shall endeavor to establish these two propo,
sitions:
That God acts as free, and sovereign, in the work of
regeneration; and
That his acting thus, is in itself right.
That God is thus free and sovereign, will be evident
from the following considerations:
Particularly, in the choice of the Persons on whom he is
to bestow his grace, God acts according to his own pleasure.
This truth is confirmed, both by the Scriptures, and by our
own observation. When our Lord began his public ministry he selected his disciples.  In doing this, Mark tells us,
that he " called unto him whom he would." The twelve
whom he ordained, were fishermen and publicans. This
choice contravenes all the principles on which we should
have acted.  Had we been left to choose those who were
to be the apostles and pillars of the church, we should have
selected men of learning and talents.  But if they must




226      REGENERATION, A SOVEREIGN WORK.
be ignorant men and men in humble life, why not carpen-.
ters, or husbandmen, as well- as fishermen and publicans?
Certainly there is nothing in the occupation of a fisherman,
which qualifies him to preach the gospel.  But if they
must be fishermen and publicans, why must they be these
rather than others?  Matthew tells us, that " Jesus, walking by the sea of Galilee, saw two brethren, Simon and
Andrew.  And he said unto them,'Follow  me.' And
going on from thence, he saw two other fishermen, James,
the son of Zebedee, and John, his brother, mending their
nets; and he called them."  Were there no other fishermen on the sea of Galilee, or in Judea, but these?  When
Jesus was passing by that sea and saw those others; why
did he not call them?   Others were as good as they.
They were as well informed and possessed of as much
understanding.  Why, then, were these singled out? The
fact that Jesus called these fishermen, was the reason why
they followed him. It was the reason why they went to
heaven, and why they will sit with him in the final judgment, and why they will be admitted to: distinguished
honor in the church on high. -What a difference will there
be between their situation through eternity, and that of the
other fishermen on the sea of Galilee! Yet this difference will all be: owing to the single fact that Jesus called
them, while he: passed the others by.
The same truth was impressively exemplified at the cru,
cifixion- of Christ.  If we had — been present on that occasion, and had been called upon to select the individual,
whose sins Christ would then forgive, and whose soul he
would sanctify, perhaps the last man whom we should have
named, would. have been one of the malefactors.  They
were robbers, hardened in guilt, and justly condemned to
that ignominious death. After they had been nailed to the




REGENERATION,  A SOVEREIGN WORK.        227
cross, also, they joined with the multitude in reviling Jesus.
-What men were ever more unlikely to repent.  Yet one of
them, just as life was about to expire, repented and believed in Jesus. If mercywas to be shewn in this manner, why was it not shewn to both the malefactors?  Or,
if it was to be shewn to but one -of them, why to this one,
rather than to the other? - So far as appears, there was no
difference between them as to -their guilt. Why, then, this
vast difference in their allotments; one of them  in Para-.dise, the other, as we have the best reason to believe, in
the world of misery?
Had we been present with Saul of Tarsus and the band
of soldiers who accompanied him on his way to Damascus,
and had we known that one of the company was to be
made a subject of divine grace,. should we have selected as
that individual the furious, persecuting bigot, who had just
before consented to the death of Stephen and made havoc
of the church; who was still breathing out. threatenings
and slaughter against the disciples, and was even now on a
journey to Damascus to seize them and bring them bound
to Jerusalem; or one of the ignorant soldiers who had
never even heard of the name of Jesus?
In-these instances, and in others like them,:in the New.Testament, how can we account for the fact, that such a:difference was actually made between those who were converted to God and those who were not?- IWill it be said
that the disciples were called because:Christ, being omniscient, saw: that those individuals were the proper persons
for the work he designed them, rather than the other fishermen; that this was eminently true in the case of Paul;
and that something of this nature must be also supposed in
the case of the penitent thief; and that therefore he called
these persons, rather than the others?  I admit it. And




228      REGENERATION, A SOVEREIGN WORK.
this is unquestionably true in every other case.  Thls is
also the very principle for which we contend. When we
say that God is free and sovereign in this work, we do not
say that he acts with-out a good reason in any case; but
that in every instance of regeneration, for reasons which
are always the best, but which he has not thought proper
to disclose to us, he acts freely and according to his own
pleasure; and that his own choice determines him with
regard to every person, whether to convert him or not.
This account of the subject, given in the Scriptures, is
confirmed by daily observation. As we look around upon
our fellow-men we see numbers every where who give satisfactory evidence that they are the subjects of regeneration.  We see also a still greater number who give no
such evidence. The first class differ from the second, only
because God made them  to differ. If we examine these
two classes we cannot discover any rule by which God is
governed in the work of regeneration.  Sometimes God
bestows his grace on men who are ignorant and of very
humble capacity, who seem to stand on the lowest verge of
intellect, while he passes by other men of learning and
wisdom. Often he confers it on the poor and the unknown,
while he denies it to the rich and the honorable. We are
often apt to wonder that certain individuals around us,men of talents and wealth,-are not renewed. If some
one or other rich man were to become a Christian, we
often say,-what an amount of wealth would flow into the
treasury of the Lord. If such a man of splendid and
-powerful talents were to become a Christian, how much
good might he not do to the church of Christ. God does
not see fit, however, to put their wealth or their talents in
requisition. HIe passes them by, and calls into his king-.dom the beggar and the outcast.  Sometimes he selects




1REGENERATION, A SOVIREIGN WORK.        229
persons of rough native tempers, who, if they become
Christians, will exhibit very little of the Christian character, and yet does not renew others around them who are
distinguished for native sweetness of temper, and who
might exhibit the graces of piety in all their beauty and
loveliness. Sometimes we see the children of wicked parents, made the subjects of renewing and sanctifying grace;
and the children of pious parents, left to final impenitence.
Abijah, the child of Jeroboam-the son of Nebat, who
made Israel to sin, had some good thing found in him
towards the Lord God of Israel, while the children of Eli
and Samuel had not. Occasionally we see those who have
been gross sinners, nay, those who have been openly and
scandalously profligate, brought to repentance, while those
who are far less hardened, perish in their sins. This, I
admit, is not common. Yet in every age of the church,
God has manifested his sovereignty in the work of conversion by examples of this nature. The conversion of old
sinners is also not frequent. Yet we sometimes see sinners
of this description become penitent, when those who are
young seek salvation a long time and yet do not obtain it.
God appears to act according to his own pleasure, also,
as to the Timne of bestowing his grace. The Scriptures
mention several instances, in which children were sanctified
from their birth. It is the common belief of ministers,
that such instances occasionally exist at present. When
such a case occurs, what reason can we give for the selection? Why was this child thus sanctified at the very dawn
of life, when his brothers and sisters and the children of
the neighboring families were not? The only answer to
this question is, " Even so, Father, for so it seemed good
in thy sight."  Still more frequent are the instances, in
which persons are converted to God in early childhood.
20




230      REGENERATION' -A: SOVEREIGN WORK.
God thus takessome in the- morning of life into his service.; he permits others to go on in sin through youth and
manhood, aid in oldcage, when they are unable to serve
him, he calls them into~ his.kingdom.  We find a remarkable -difference in those who are earnestly seeking salvation,
as to the length of time which elapses before they find it.
When the- power of the Holy Ghost is felt upon the heart;
when the attention is arrested to the interests of eternity;
when the conscience is enlivened.; when a deep sense of
guilt is. felt and the danger of the -wrath of God is strongly
realized; we see some almost immediately become the subjects of repentance towards God and' faith in the Lord
Jesus Christ.  Others. continue, not -only -for months, but
for years, convinced that they are sinners, and that without
a personal interest in the mediation of Christ, they must
perish,. and still- they make no -progress- in the way to
heaven.  To give up seeking salvation, they dare not; yet
when they al1ttempt to pass through the straight gate and
enter on th;e narrow way, they grope for the wall at noonday as dWe blind. -Remarkable instances of this nature
occur in every revival of religion.  On such occasions we
sometimes see those -who have been openly profligate, becoming in a fia days the subjects of regeneration, and proving
the reality of the change wrought- in them by a life of holiness; while others,. who are- amiable in their manners and
correct in their deportment, continue a long time convinced
of their sa.  and danger:before they are renewed.
God is eqmuially free: and sovereign in the Mianner and
C6ireurvmst1an-At es &o- bestowinrg his mercy.  If we knew that
during the existing year, one hutndred of the persons now
present.vowad become the subjects of renewing grace, we
could not conjecture the time, the place, the'occasion, nor:
the circumstmes., in. which God would bestow it on any




REGENERATION,  A: SVEREIGN -WORI.         231
one of them. If we possessed- the spirit of prophecy and
could know every sermon and: every prayer which: they
would hear, every chapter and religious book which they
would read, and every religious conversation to which they
might listen,-every means of grace, in short, at which
they would be present; we could  not probably select, in a
single instance, that one, which the Holy Spirit would
make effectual. Two men shall be sitting on the same seat
at church, listening to the same sermon:; one a youth, the
other, a man of gray hairs. -The truth of God shall be
faithfully preached.  The youth will,:perhaps, resist it;
while the gray-haired sinner will perceive for the first time
that it is quick and powerful, and sharper than any twoedged sword, and by means of an agency of which he is
not conscious, will yield to its influence. It is in consequence of this fact, that means, apparently the most powerful, are often ineffectual; while those which seem the
least likely to produce the effect in question, are followed
with a blessing.  All of us have heard the story of the
Virginia planter, now a faithful and zealous preacher of the
gospel, who severely whipped his pious slave for praying
with the other negroes, and who soon after became a
Christian in consequence of hearing the same slave's praying earnestly for his forgiveness.  I myself once knew alofty-minded -young man of fine talents, enter a place of
worship, to divert himself withlthe style and delivery of
the preacher, a man of seventy-five years of age, eminent
for piety, but:of moderate talents, and unusually awkward
in his manner.  He left the place, however, not merely
ashamed of the spirit with which he entered it,- but convinced that he was a sinner, and anxious to learn the way.
of salvation.
In the immediate effects produced.-by this divine agency



232      REGENERATION, A SOVEREIGN WORK.
in different cases, we see similar proofs of sovereign
power in the Agent. Some are drawn to the Saviour by
the cords of love, others are driven from perdition by the
fears of wrath.  Some find their attention arrested, while
listening to a representation of the love of God; others, of
the sufferings of Christ; others, of the agency of the
Holy Spirit; others still, of the dreadful punishment which
awaits the finally impenitent. In some of these instances
the heart may be melted, and yields at once. In others,
it is overwhelmed with terror, under a sense of its own sin
and desert of the anger of God. In some, also, the evidence of a genuine conversion is so strong as to leave no
room for doubt.  In others, it is so feeble, that years may
pass away before the subject of it ventures to profess the
religion of Christ.
In selecting the Places where, at a given time, the work
of regeneration shall be carried on, God also acts according to his own pleasure. I need not tell my audience that
there are places where, for a long period, no marks of
God's renewing agency are visible. The gospel is faithfully
and powerfully preached, and yet, to most who hear it, it
appears to become a savor of death unto death. At the
same time, in some neighboring town, no one is left to
doubt whether God is present.  All who dwell there feel
and acknowledge his presence. Many of them rejoice
that his power and glory have been manifested. Others
are so conscious of the fact that they also believe and
tremble.  The inhabitants of the latter place in great numbers give themselves up to God.  Those of the former go
to their graves in impenitence. What, let me ask, has
occasioned this difference?  Why is all the surrounding
region enveloped in clouds and gloom; and why over this
little favored spot have the clouds dispersed, so that those




REGENERATION, A. SOVEREIGN WORK.         233
who dwell there can look through, and see-the face of
heaven, and behold the light of the Sun- of righteousness?
Still more sovereign is the exercise:of God's grace at this
moment, in the distinction which he often makes between
Christian and heathen. lands.  This town in which we live
is a remarkable example of this nature. It was settled-by
as pious a race of emigrants as this-world ever saw.:For
one hundred and thirty years, pure and undefiled religion
revived and flourished -among the inhabitants. But for the
last seventy, no one who dwells here has beheld an extensive revival of religion.  During that period two. generations have gone to the grave; the rich man and the ancient, the proud man and the honorable, as well as the poor
and the outcast; and how few of them, is there any: reason
to hope, were the subjects of repentance towards God and
faith in our Lord Jesus: Christ?  And what:is the fact at
this moment?. The gospel is preached in its purity to
Tartars, to Hindoos, to Hottentots, and they hear it and
obey it; while here in the land of the Pilgrims, how many
thousands seem to be more beyond the dominion of that
gospel which Jesus published and which Paul. preached,
than were they- in the centre of New Holland -    Two chil,
dren are born the same year. - One of them- is born in the
mansion of refinement and piety, is given up to God in
baptism, and early taught the way to heaven..: The other
is born in a Hottentot cabin, and knows of no god but an
an image of-wood. God, however, sends him a missionary,
who preaches to him salvation by the blood of Christ. His
heart is opened to receive the truth, and he is baptized into
the name of Jesus. The other continues impenitent, and his
parents perhaps go to their graves without any;evidence
that their prayers have been heard.  Take a still stronger
instance. A faithful minister of Christ,:in this comnmonr
20o




234      REGENERATION, A SOVEREIGN WORK.
wealth, preaches to a congregation for thirty years, and is
all that time left to mourn, because he labors in vain and
spends his strength for naught. Another stations himself
in a Hottentot village, and before he is able to master their
language, he sees that his sermons in broken Hottentot
have been accompanied with a blessing, and that half of
those who hear him are inquiring the way to heaven.
We see, then, that in the choice of the persons on whom
to bestow his grace,-in the time, in the manner and circumstances, and in the places in which he bestows it, God
acts as if he were free and sovereign.
Our second proposition is, that God's acting thus is in
itself right.
That it is right in God to regenerate those, whom he
actually regenerates, every one will admit.  The only
question, therefore, is,-Whether God is under any obligation to convert those who are not converted.  We say that
he is firee from any obligation of this nature.
Particularly, God is under no obligation from his Justice.
Regeneration is the communication of holiness to a mind
which is entirely destitute of it. What is holiness? It is
love, or benevolence; love to God with all the heart, and
to our neighbor as ourselves.  What is sin?  It is disobedience to the law which requires this love. Why does not
a sinner obey this law, and thus become the subject of this
love?  It is not from the want of excellence in God, or of
knowledge of that excellence on the part of the sinner.
It is not from the want of a conscience to feel the force of
his obligation to obey the law, nor from the want of motives
to induce obedience, nor from the want of a capacity to love
and hate. It is, simply, from the want of choice. Whenever the Omniscient Spirit examines man's heart to see
what is the difficulty, he discovers none but this, that he




REGENERATION, A SOVEREIGN WORK.          235
will not obey. Not a sin has he ever committed, but it
was voluntary,-the result of choice. And all that is now
wanting to the sinner's regeneration is, his being willing, even
for a single moment, to obey that great command,-Thou
shalt love God supremely and thy neighbor as thyself.
The Holy Spirit undertook the office of the Sanctifier, not
because there was any physical defect in the sinner's mind,
but merely because he has an unwilling heart.  What
claim then, has any sinner on the justice of God to convert him, and how would he urge his claims when called
upon to state them? Were the beasts of the field commanded to love God, they might truly say that they have
not capacity to discern his moral excellence, nor consciences to feel the force of obligation; and they might,
therefore, justly demand a new creation before they could
incur guilt. [But all that the sinner can allege is, that he
loves sin so well that he is not willing to obey God; and
he therefore insists that God shall make him willing. How
must such a claim as this sound in the ear of God's justice!
If the sinner can justly claim regeneration, then he has
a right to eternal life. In other words, God had no right
to punish him, nor to refuse to admit him to heaven. But
if it was unjust to punish the transgressors, then Christ's
death was unnecessary to save him from punishment. And
if the sinner had a right to heaven, then Christ's righteousness was unnecessary to purchase heaven.  Of course the
mediation and death of Christ were unnecessary, and salvation is not a matter of grace but of justice.
Eternal life is the greatest gift which God can give. It
is to give Himself to the sinner as his portion.  It is to
allow him to dwell in his own immediate presence forever.
If the sinner had perfectly obeyed the law, he could not
have asserted a title to such a portion as this.  If he had




236'    REGENERATION), A SOVEREIGN WORK.
received it, it must have been merely as a free gift; and
to a free gift, in the very nature of the case, we cannot
lay. claim.   But the sinner, instead of perfect obedience,
has always disobeyed, and can claim. therefore nothing but
punishment.
But he may say, I have been long endeavoring to obtain
salvation, and it would be now unjust to cast me off. Let me
then ask him, in reply,- Iad you any right to salvation
before you began to seek it? This question, we have seen,
he must answer in the negative. We ask, then, again,Does any thing you have hitherto done, merit salvation?
The Bible is here explicit. It tells us, that the best efforts
of the most eminent:Christian do not in the least merit salvation.  If, then,: the sinner's efforts had been the result
of holiness, they could not on the ground of justice have
merited any thing.  What shall then be said of the efforts
which he has actually made?  He has read his Bible, and
attended public worship, and attempted to pray, and contributed to the poor and to religious charities, and led a
sober, moral life, and he has often felt a strong apprehension that he-should finally perish.  If he has done all this,
and have not love, Paul tells him, that he is nothing. Has
he not done them  all, because he believed and trembled,
and because he hoped that the gift of God could be purchased with such a price as this?  Has- he in this way
advanced a step towards holiness?  Is he not -a greater
sinner now than when he began?  Can he then have
acquired any claims on the justice of God?  Instead of
this, -has he not offended God anew, by refusing to obey
the great law' of the gospel dispensation,:" Repent and
believe."  Originally, then, he had no  claims on the
ground of justice,. and he has subsequently acquired none.




REGENERATION, A SOVEREIGN WORK.         237
God will be, therefore, perfectly just, should he not convert him.
The sinner may also say, that his parents were unusually
pious: that they gave him up to God, and prayed earnestly
and often for his salvation. But his parents did not merit
any thing for themselves; still less, therefore, do their
prayers or their efforts merit salvation for him.
Neither has such a person any claim on the HEoliness of
God. A holy being does indeed love holiness wherever he
finds it. But there is nothing even in the best services of
any impenitent person which such a being can love. He
cannot name an exercise of his heart, or an action of his
life, in which God can discover holiness.
As little is his claim on the Mercy of God. To speak of
claims on the divine mercy, is a solecism. The very term,
mercy, implies that we have no claims whatever. It is, in
the nature of the case, impossible to exercise mercy towards any one who is not justly condemned.
God is under no obligations from his own Veraciti, to
convert him. God has made no promise to any impenitent
man whatever. Sinners are not the children of the promise,
nor the heirs of promise. The promises were made to
Abraham and his seed, but sinners are not the seed of
Abraham. Promises are made only to those who have
faith to trust in them.  God has laid many commands on
sinners, requiring them to repent, and believe, and obey,
and threatening them with his sore displeasure, if they do
not.  He has also promised them eternal life if they do.
But there is not, in either Testament, a single promise on
the part of God that he will regenerate any sinner. God
has no where laid himself under bonds to any one who is
destitute of holiness. The sinner might spend one hundred, or one thousand years, in just such efforts to obtain




238      REGENERATION, A SOVEREIGN WORK.
salvation;;:and, if he should fail of it at last, the veracity of
God would be still inviolable.  Nay, these very efforts
would have only served, for the time, as his excuse for not
repenting of his sins and believing in Christ.
Neither has God laid himself under any such obligations
by any th]iwg which he -has done.  The sinner  may
allege, that he has been long seeking salvation, and
that others who began long after him, have found it.  If
the sinner has sought it, still he has not merited it; and,
if others have received it, God replies to him, " May I
not lawfully do what I will with mine own?"  He may
allege that- those -who are far more guilty than himself,
have been pardoned.  True; God had a right to manifest
the riches of his grace in forgiving them, but this did not
bind him to forgive others.  The sinner cannot then complain, unless he had a right to forgiveness himself.  He
may allege that the number of those who will be saved,
will be very great.  It will.  Yet the salvation of each is
a matter of mere grace on the part of God. Any one of
them might have perished, and so might all of them, and:
yet God would have been perfectly excellent.  If God is
pleased in his mercy to save them, he manifests the richesof his grace, but he does not lay himself ~under any obligation to:save others.
The subject, as all perceive, is- directly practical.: As
one of its lessons, we may observe, that a moral life will
not secure for any man his regeneration.  It is a:most.
difficult thing to persuade men:of this truth. RMany a
hearer surveys his life, and it differs so little from 1the lives
of many Christians, that he must believe that God regards
it with some degree of approbation.  The young ruler's
conclusion was the same. He had kept the whole law from
his youth up.  Had he been present at the crucifixion




REG-ENERATION- A SOVEREIGN woRK.        2.39
and seen the thief on the cross, he could not have: believed
it possible that: mercy should have been extended to him
rather than to himself. -Yet the thief on the cross repented, and is now  in Paradise. But the young man
whom  Jesus loved, went away from him, and never returned. If the grace of God is' freely given, it is not
given as the reward of morality.  Should the most moral
man now living, mention his morality in his prayer for the
gift of God's saving grace, how would God regard- it?
Would he not remember. before opening his lips, that it is
not by works of righteousness which we have done, but
according to his mercy he saves us; and would not this
truth compel him to be silent?  We must be justified,
either: by faith, or by works.  To him  that worketh, i. e.
doeth all his duty,'" the reward is reckoned of debt.  But
to him that worketh not, but believeth on him that justifieth the ungodly, his faith is counted for righteousness."
If the sinner expects to obtain salvation in any degree by
his morality, he rejects the gospel.' The salvation of the
gospel is merely of grace.  If the moral and immoral
man both continue impenitent, both will perish.  If either
of them is saved, it will be wholly owing to unmerited grace.
If, then, the moral man does not renounce his dependence
on his morality, and trust in nothing but the righteousness of Christ, he will certainly come short of eternal
life.
As little can regeneration be purchased by our prayers,
or other religious observances. -The impenitent man often.
flatters himself that there is sornethling meritorious in his
use of the means of grace.  Ile thinks of the difference
between himself and others.  He reads his Bible, and vencrates3 the  Sabbath, and goes to the sanctuary, and
prays,-it may be in his family and in his closet, —and




240      REGENERATION, A SOVEREIGN WORK.
they do none of those things. So did the Pharisees and
Scribes, and thanked God they were not as other men.
They intended to purchase heaven by these services, and
so does the hearer in question; forgetting, that " they that
are in the flesh cannot please God."
But the hearer may say, If these services have no merit,
and do not avail any thing to procure my salvation, then I
will give up my Bible, and the Sabbath, and prayer. I
answer; This is a controversy which you must settle, not
with me, but with God. He requires of you repentance,
and faith, and love. What is your language to him? If
you will let me offer prayers, and read my Bible, and go
to the sanctuary, without faith and love and repentance, I
will do so. If not, I will give them up. But, in either
case, I will not repent, nor believe, nor love. The sinner
needs ask now but his own conscience, how this controversy will be settled?
It is no objection to any one's coming to Christ, that he
has been a very great sinner. If God is entirely free and
sovereign in communicating his grace, —if morality cannot
purchase salvation,-then a great sinner has just as much
a right to repent and believe as one who has committed
fewer sins.  "Pardon my iniquity," said David, " for it is
great." The greatness of his sins was the very reason
why he asked for pardon, and why he urged his plea. Is
there then present any one who has grown old in sin, or
sinned against great light and strong conviction, or who
has committed great and enormous sins-so great, that he
fears that God cannot forgive them? Let me tell him,
this day, that God is free and sovereign in granting his
mercy. This day he offers you pardon, on the simple condition that you will accept of it.  Go to him, then, in all




REGENERATION, A SOVEREIGN WORK.         241
your sin. Go now; and though your sins are as scarlet
and as crimson, they shall become whiter than snow.
What, then, is the immediate duty of every impenitent
hearer? It is, to repent of his sins, and to believe in
Jesus Christ. Why should not every such person comply
with this demand?  Have you not trusted long enough to
your prayers, and your punctual performance of the external duties of religion?  Have they advanced you a step
towards heaven? Is not enough of life wasted already?
Is not the day of life to many far spent, and are not the
shadows of the evening approaching? Why, then, continue any longer in this wretched course, when, if you do
not repent, you must perish; if you do not believe, you
must be damned?
21




THE CHURCEI1
1 TIm.  iii:   1 5.
THE CHURCH OF TILHE LIVlIG  0D9, -T iE PILLAR AND
GROUND OF THE TRUTH,
THE great design of Christ's mission was to redeem sinful man from the curse of the law, and fror  the bondage
of sin.  To secure its accomplishment, he has directed
those who are thus redeemed to formr themselves into a
voluntary association, as his visible followers, and to become a peculiar people, distinguished from the rest of mankind by holiness of life.  This association is known by
various names in the Scriptures, but its plrorer designation
as an organized body is, The Church, and, The Church of
Christ.
This association was established immediately after the
Fall, when God revealed to our first parents the covenant
of grace.  It was established also as % permanent institution, to exist so long as the work of redemption should continue to be carried on; it has been always peculiarly dear
to its founder, and has received from him numberless marks
of his constant protection fand attachment.  It existed and
flourished under the patriarchal form, in the family of Seth,
during the ages before the flood, and in the family of




THE CHURCH.'-                  243
Sher,'until -the recovery of Israel from  Egypt.  It became national in:its constitution, at: the giving- of the law
on-Mount Sinai, and was ultimately extended to the whole
family of m:an-:immediately after the crucifixion of Christ.
While: it::- has-: thus- assumed three forms- in different ages
of the world, yet it has been always one: and the same
Association; founded on the same:: covenant, existing for the
same purposes, and composed of men possessing visibly the
same character. -.It is my intention to consider:
-- The Nature of- the Church; and -
- The D)esign of its institution.
In considering its Nature, I would observe:It- is a voluntary — association.: In its present form, all
men are freely invited to join it; and none who wish to do
this may be lawfully excluded, if they possess the requisite
qualifications for admission. -None, however, may be compelled to join-it, for those who are its members, become so
by their own: voluntaryact.  They may not, indeed, subsequently:leave- it, for -at their entrance they voluntarily
covenant, that; they- will continue its members through life,
seeking its prosperity an-d- submitting to its discipline.  All
its members have a rigbt to;ts privileges, and none can be.
deprived of them unless they disobey the laws by which
the community is governed.-:' The - more advantageously to answer the design of the
association, it is divided- into numerous smaller associations, each of which is called: a- church, having:its own
members and- government, but constituting a part. of the
Church:universal. 
- Though its members are subject to the laws and rulers
of the countries to which they belong, yet the association issubject to no legislator but Christ, and to no laws but such




244                  THE CHURCH.
as he has established.  The civil magistrate, as such, has
no connexion with it, nor any right to regulate its concerns.'" My kingdom," said the Redeemer, " is not of
this world."  If the magistrate in any degree undertakes
to control it, he thrusts himself into the place of Christ,
and usurps his authority.
The members of this community are all on an equality.
The king and the beggar, the sage and the peasant, if connected with it, stand on one common level.  The rich and
the poor here meet together; the Lord is maker of them
all. Christ has indeed committed the care and oversight
of the church to two classes of officers, pastors and deacons. They are to regulate its external concerns, and to
watch over its welfare.  But its internal regulations,-the
admission and exclusion of its members, are left to the
church itself. One class of the officers is elected by the
church, and every member is eligible. The other class
maintain their own succession; yet every member possessing the requisite qualifications, is, on his request, admitted
to their number. Thus, according to the charter which it
has received from Christ, it is, in the management of its
own concerns, a pure democracy,-subject to no regulations but those which itself has made, and those which
Christ has given it.
Its members profess to be the friends of Christ.  This
profession he has required to be public. It is made when
each individual is united to the body itself, to point him
out to the members and the world, as an avowed disciple
and follower. In this profession they avow their faith in
Christ and in the truths which he taught; dedicate themselves and all that they have to his service; covenant to
obey him; and are baptised into his name.  At stated sea



THE CuRCiUc.                    245
sons- also-they meet together, to celebrate his death, and to
dedicate their children to him in baptism.:- In its: present state: it- consists of- numerous divisions,
each of which has no connexion with the::rest.  These differ widely in their government,- their:belief, their:-purity,
their discipline, and in - their forms:: of worship, and:of administering the ordinances.  All of them also are - exceedingly  imperfect.   Some - churches do- not -- require the
prescribed qualifications for the admission of: members, nor
in the officers of:the church:These soon: grow corrupt in
doctrine, and discipline, and, life, and ultimately cease to
constitute:a part of the:Christian  community.  Other
churches, however careful, are liable to deception, and
admit members  who are not really qualified for admission.
The consequence is, that no local church. of any considera-ble numbers can, probably,- be found, which has not some
members of this character.  Christ-himself, however, taught
his disciples that this-would be the fact.  This:: prediction
-led them to expect that-the: tares would'always be found
mingled with the wheat.
Such is a brief account of- the nature -of this Association, the Church of Christ, as it now exists, and substantially, as it: has existed since its first institutionWe are also to consider the Design of the Church's
institution.
This was, particularly, to furnish mankind with standing
evidence of the truth of the Christian Religion.   That
such a body as the Church exists, is certain.  That it -has
existed in its present form from a short time following:the
crucifixion of Christ, is also certain from  historical evideuce.  It has in its possession a book, called the New
Testament.  The gospel of Matthew,-a part of that
book,-was written, as we may learn from  such evidence,
21*




246                  THE CHURCH.
eight years, and that of Mark but twelve years, after
Christ's death. These contain a full account of his birth,
life, miracles, and instructions; of his institution of the
Church; of his death and resurrection; of his commission
to the apostles and their successors to convert all nations
to his religion; and of his ascension.  These accounts
were in the possession of the eleven apostles, who were
eye-witnesses of every transaction; of his other disciples,
who had witnessed most of them; and of his enemies who
had seen many of them, and were able to contradict them
all if they were not true.  Yet no -contradiction of them
is left on record. The eleven apostles did not contradict
them. Instead of this, they everywhere preached Jesus
of Nazareth, and converted thousands and hundreds of
thousands to the faith of Christ.  The other followers of
Christ did the same.  The enemies of Christ opposed the
diffusion of his religion by persecution and violence, but
never dared to contradict the truth of the gospels.  Thus
the facts of the perpetuation of the Church, and of its constant possession of the New  Testament, furnish us the
highest evidence which the nature of the case will admit of
the truth of the gospel history, and far higher evidence
than we can procure in any other case, of the truth of any
fact transmitted from antiquity. It is thus owing to the
Church of Christ, that its members and mankind at large
are furnished with evidence which will not admit of a
doubt, that all the events recorded in the life of Christ are
literally true, and that the Christian religion is, of course,
divine.
The Church was also designed, to transmit the truth of
God in its purity.  Within a very short time after the
death of Christ, numerous  churches  were formed  in
Western Asia and Eastern Europe; and not long after, in




THE CHURCH.                  247
the south of Europe and the north of Africa. The consequence was, that copies of the Scriptures were early and
widely diffused. Every church at least, and many private
Christians also, had a copy. Thus widely circulated, they
could not be destroyed by the most vigorous efforts of persecution.  Equally vain was every attempt materially to
corrupt them.  The Church was soon divided into sects,
and each sect possessed numerous copies of the Scriptures.
No sect, in attempting to establish its own sentiments,
could misquote the Scriptures, or attempt to circulate incorrect copies, without detection. The same has been true
in every age. Copies of the Scriptures have been always
thus multiplied. The Church has been always divided,
and each division has watched the conduct of every other
to see that no attempt was made to corrupt the purity of
the written text. We have thus far higher evidence that
the text of the Bible is genuine, than with regard to any
other book.  Thus the Church has been" the pillar of the
truth."
Controversy has always existed also with the world,
about the genuineness of Christianity; and among the different divisions of the Church, respecting the true meaning
of the Scriptures.  Against an unbelieving world, the
whole Church has united to defend the divine origin of
Christianity. The external defence of natural and revealed religion in opposition to Atheists and Deists, has
thus been so effectually secured that it cannot be attacked.
In settling the real meaning of the Scriptures, these
divisions of the Church which have been most distinguished
for holiness and for love to Christ, have always united in
supporting the real truth of God.  This controversy has
been long continued, and much of it is now brought to a
close.  Wherever it is still maintained, if ably conducted,




248                  THIE - CHURCH.
truth always gains, and error loses. When finally brought
to a close, the real meaning of the Scriptures will be so
firmly established, and the true nature- of Christianity so
universally understood, that no material error will afterwards find adherents.  In this sense- the   Church will
-deserve the title-" The Light of the- world."
The Church was no less designed, to preserve the religion of Christ through every- age.  The great means
of preserving the religion of Christ in the world have
been the Sabbath, the preaching of the -gospel, the circulation of the Scriptures, and the religious education of
children.  In heathen and Mohammedan lands there is
no Sabbath, and of course no knowledge of God or sal-'vation.  But the reason why they have no Sabbath is,
that they have no church of Christ.  The moment the
Church is established, there that moment -the Sabbath
begins to dawn with healing in its beams.  In lands which
are called Christian, we perceive that religion always flourishes in proportion to the strict observance of the Sabbath.
In those places in which no respect is paid to the Sabbath,
there we see is no religion; but wherever the Sabbath is
faithfully devoted to God, there religion flourishes. But
wherever there is no church, there is found no Sabbath;
and wherever a real church of Christ exists, there the
Sabbath is kept holy. Its members observe it in its purity,
and they preserve it from profanation by others.
The same things are true of the religious education of
children.  The Church of Christ, at any given period, is
made up almost exclusively of those who have been religiously educated in childhood. In Christian lands, very few,
comparatively, of those who have not been religiously educated, have become truly pious. But wherever religious
education flourishes, there religion flourishes. But religious




THE CHURCH.                   249
education owes its existence to the Church of Christ.  In
those places where there is no church, there is also no
religious education.  Were the Church to discontinue the
religious education of its children for a single generation
only, the parents would go to the grave, and none would
rise up to take their places.  In this short period the
Church would become nearly, or quite, extinct. It is the
children of the Church in this generation who will chiefly
constitute the Church in the next. It is because so many
of them, when children, are trained up, imperfectly indeed,
yet really, in the way they should go, that, when they are
old, they do not depart from it. The Church takes care
of its children. Its sons become as plants, grown up in
their youth. Its daughters are as corner-stones, polished
after the similitude of a palace.
This is no less true of the preaching of the gospel.  In
lands where the gospel is not preached, religion does not
exist. In lands where religion once existed and flourished,
but has since disappeared, religion began to decline when
the gospel ceased to be preached in its purity; and when
such had been the case for a length of time, religion
wholly disappeared. But the preaching of the gospel is
entirely owing to the Church. Preachers of the gospel
are trained up in the Church. The Church alone investigate the qualifications of preachers. Wherever a Church,
to a good degree pure, exists, there the gospel is preached
in its purity. Wherever a corrupted church is found,
there a different gospel is preached from that of Christ.
And wherever the church has become extinct, there the
preaching of the gospel ceases.
Thus we are indebted to the Church of Christ for the
observance of the Sabbath, for the religious education of
children, for the preaching of the gospel; in a word, for




250"                  THE- CHURCHE
the preservation of religion. -:-In this respect, the Churchis, eminently, "the salt -of the earth.'' This-design' has also been, to- difuse the religion u-of
Christ.::-If the Chu-rch: of Christ' had not been: established,
Christians, could we suppose them to exist,-would not -know:each other as such. They would -never meet as Christians,
and, of course, they could not confide in each other. -But:
if there were to be no mutual confidence, nor even knowl-"
edge, even could we suppose them possessed -of the disposition to do good, their efforts must be only feeble and'
u-nsuccessful. - The: work to-be — done is immense, the difficulties- to" be encountered  are  apparently inseparable.
Each- individual would accordingly feel,:that his own effortsand' contributions would avail nothing- He would see none
to rouse him, to encourage him, nor to assist him; and'
should he make exertions, would have:no opportunity to
learn their fruits.  In such circumstances, I need -not say,no efforts could:be made.:How  different-: from:all this::is the — actual state of
things? ~ Christians,: because - they -are - embodied into a
church, meet together.  They know each -other-as-Christians; -as.one -body, having -one common interest, and
that —the best of all interests.: They see that Christ has
ever had a- church in the world, that — it grows- and flourishes, and their hearts are encouraged. -Thework-to be
be done is great; but: they know that there are many laborers.:The sums- to be contributed for the conversion of- the
world are great; -but the funds on which the: contributions
are to be levied. are -inexhaustible. - The: difficulties to be
overcome are great; but there are vast energies of body
and mind employed in overcoming them.  -Thus their efforts are concentrated, while their hearts are united.  And
while wonderful effects are seen to be produced by this one



-THE  HURCH.:C251
-ness of:-exertion,, the. -labor -to, each. is — comparatively light.
In this: ay, the establishment of the Church as a& union of
Christians, who. have one: body:and one soul, is the moving
-spring in the conversion of this world,   -.
-  The entire history of, the -church -confirms these conclusions.: Wherever -the apostles -went, they planted churches.:Those churches- educated and supported. evangelists, and
circulated  the — -Scriptures.-: In  e-very::-subsequent age,,wherever- the -Christian:: religions has been planted in a
heathen. land,, God: has-made- use -of: the instrumentality of
the — church in planting and -watering, At this: day, we see
the:sam-e great process going on before our eyes.: It is the:Churchj, which sets in:motion; the wheels by which this
mighty- work is carried on:.:  It: is the Church, which first,forms: the plan for distributing Bibles: and tracts.  It is the::Church, which educates evangelists; and supports missions.
I cheerfully admit -that-:multitudes not:belonging to the
Church, do... much towards- this object.  Still the great
-amount of- labor and funds is yielded by the Church; and
it is owing to-her example and solicitations that any thing
is done by others.  Thus the Church of:Christ is the great
instrument, and the -source  of all the/ other instruments,:employed by the Holy Spirit in the recovery of mankind.
Withou-t the: Church:,-the work would -not have been-begun;
and were- the efforts ofe the Church to cease: the work
would be finally relinquished.
-.The Church is no less designed, to unite me ankind ulti-mately into one family.: As mankind are all descended from
the same parents, they should have constituted one great family and- treated each other as- brethren., Had mankind been a
-race: of virtuous beings:, such- would have-been the reality.
The Fall not only left us without love to God, but without love
to our neighbor, Instead of loving happiness, as such, man's




252                  THE CHURCH.
supreme object is to promote his own. Instead of feeling
a common interest which binds them together, mankind are
actuated, each by a private, separate interest.  Selfishness
is the native universal character.  It begets distrust, and
is thus the repelling principle of our nature. Instead of
drawing men together, it drives them asunder. It may,
indeed, induce individuals to associate for a time, because
their selfish purposes coincide and can be best promoted by
co-operation; but it does not unite them, nor give them a
common interest. All men are conscious that this is the
true character of man.  They know that they are selfish
themselves; that their own interest is at all times the ruling
motive. And they have no doubt that other men are like
themselves. We prove by our daily conduct that this is
our own estimate of the human character. No man exercises confidence in a stranger. Why? Because he knows
that the stranger is a man, and therefore a: selfish, depraved being. If we lived in a world of virtuous beings,
we should exercise confidence, because we should know
that they would love our happiness, and seek to promote it
as truly as their own. The history of man has been,
accordingly, a history of selfishness. To a vast extent,
this history has been made up of war and desolation on the
part of nations; of bloodshed and rapacity on the part of
rulers; of fraud and theft, robbery and murder, between
man and man. And when these more violent effects
of selfishness among individuals have not appeared, there
have still been clashing interests, contentions, alienation,
and hatred.
This vast multitude of disunited beings Christ proposes
to bring together into one family, and unite them as brethren. This effect he is now accomplishing by the instrumentality of his Church. That it may be accomplished,




TMHEf CHURCe.                25a
a new  character must be  communicated to mankind.
Where the Church exists, the means employed are the
preaching of its ministers, the religious education of children, and the prayers of Christians. Where these means
are faithfully employed, this new character is actually
and extensively communicated. The Holy Spirit creates
the heart anew after the image of Christ.  Wherever this
takes place, mankind begin to lose their native selfishness, to love their neighbor as themselves, and to seek
his happiness as their own.
In this manner, so far as the Church of Christ extends,
mankind have already, partially at least, become one family. It is already established in Europe, Asia, Africa, and
America, in New Holland, and the isles of the sea. It
embraces in its limits the king and the beggar, the master
and the slave, the sage and the peasant, the child and the
man of gray hairs, the Brahmin and the Soodra, the white
man and the tawney, the red man and the negro. But
the Church knows no distinction of birth or endowments,
of age or condition.  With her, the cast and complexion
are nothing. Those who enter her pale, come on one footing, —that of ruined sinners, needing pardon, and hoping
for it only through the blood of Christ. The Church receives them because they possess the character of Christ,the love of doing good. They come to unite themselves
by one common covenant, to the same Father, Redeemer,
and Sanctifier; and to acknowledge as their brethren all
the members of the common family.
But the Church is constantly receiving accessions to its
numbers.  These accessions are large, and are rapidlyiincreasing. Christ has also promised her that they shall
increase, until all people, nations and languages are included among her children. It is thus that the scattered
22




254                  THE CHURCmH
family of man will be ultimately reunited, and, in the language of Christ, will become " one flock in the one fold,
under the one Shepherd."
This Design has also been, to advance its mnembers in
holiness, and thus to prepare them for heaven.  The grace
of God, when imparted to the soul in regeneration, is as a
grain of mustard seed, or a little leaven.  The soul is in
a very slight degree sanctified, and needs a very great
change wrought in it before it can be prepared for a world
of holiness. Some undoubtedly are removed to that world,
within a very short period after they are born of the Spirit.
But this is not usually the fact. God has need of the services of his children in this world; and he keeps them
here in a state of discipline, that they may be purified
themselves, and may be the means in his hands of saving
others. -It is chiefly owing to their union in the church,
that this object is accomplished. To the Church there
always remains the keeping of the: -Sabbath. That sacred
season returns every week, a type of that everlasting rest
which remains for the people of God. It brings with it
salvation.  It calls off the mind from this world and all
things temporal, and fixes its contemplations and affections on heaven.
In the Church, the Word of God is preached.  This
word is explained to the understanding, enforced on the
conscience, and impressed on the heart.  It contains spiritual life, and is the great means of sanctification. It contains all that the Christian needs to believe and to do,
to prepare him for heaven. -His duties of the heart and
life are set before him, heaven is brought near to invite
him, and the love of Christ to constrain him.
The members of the Church meet with one another for
prayer.  They watch over each other's failings, they pro



THE CHURCIH                   255
voke one another to love and good works, especially to
labor for the salvation of others, and to educate their children for heaven. The very object for:which they are
united, is, in this:sense, to promote each other's spiritual
prosperity, and to walk hand in hand in the straight and
narrow path that leads to heaven.
In the sacrament of the Lord's supper, this great purpose
is eminently promoted.   Iere they remember the agonyof the garden, and the still deeper agonies of the cross.
When they see the emblems of his broken body and shed
blood, Christ tells them, "This is my body, which was
broken for you: -This cup is the new Testament in my
blood, which was shed for many, for the remission of sins."
While the heart here flows out in penitential sorrow, the
Christian trusts with new faith in the efficacy of the Great
Sacrifice, and covenants with; new strength to put away sin
and lead a life of holy obedience. Thus every grace is
enlivened, heaven is brought near, the praises of the
Church on earth and of the Church in heaven are mingled.
Thus, also, the soul is prepared for -a richer feast, for a
nobler worship, for communion with a more pure and glorious church, andfor the enjoyment of the immediate and
blissful presence of the Lamb, when it shall see as it is
seen, and know as it is known.
As a practical lesson, it may- be observed, that when we
compare the Church of Christ with other associations of
men, the design: of its formations is seen to be absolutely:
peculiar.  Other associations arei formed for the accomplishment of objects which belong -solely to this world.Men are united in civil communities, to secure life, liberty,
and property.: Smaller associations are formed for the
promotion of commerce, agriculture, and manufactures;
for the advancement of the arts; for the promotion of




256                 THE CHURCH.
science and learning; and for the reformation of morals.
All these are desirable objects, and are happily promoted
by the united wisdom and energy of those who are thus
associated. Yet these associations regard man merely as
an inhabitant of this world, and in no degree as accountable and immortal. They multiply the enjoyments of life,
and some of them expand and invigorate the mind. Yet
even those formed for the improvement of morals, aim
simply to make man a more decent inhabitant of this
world, but in no wise to fit him for a better.
The object of the Church of Christ is, to make men
better. It regards man as fallen, and aims to raise him to
a higher level than that from which he fell. It regards
him as accountable, and seeks to prepare him to render his
final account with joy. It regards him as immortal, and
aims to secure to him glory, honor, and peace, in that
world where his eternity will pass away.
The:bond which unites this Society, we may add, is no
less peculiar. It is not fear. Fear may bring men together in communities and nations, but it will never unite
them. It is not selfishness. This may induce a few to
associate for a time, for worldly purposes, but can never
be either universal or permanent. It is not conjugal or
natural affection. That may bind together the family, but
beyond their little circle its influence is lost. But we need
a principle,-a bond, which shall bring all the descendants
of Adam together into one family, and unite them as the
children of one common father. Such a bond none of the
wise men of this world ever formed or imagined. But
Christ taught his disciples what this principle is, and in the
Church we see its influence exemplified. This principle,
this bond, is brotherly love. "A  new commandment I
give unto you, that ye love one another."  This principle,




THE cHURCH.                  257
this bond, is not mere benevolence. It is also the love of
virtue, or the love of good men because they are virtuous.
The Church is an association of good men; of men who
are associated for the purpose of promoting all the happiness which is in their power. In this they resemble Christ.
Living together, they see this character in each other; and
because they love the character of Christ himself, they are
constrained to love it as visible in his disciples. Though
many members, they are one body, having one Head, and
animated- by one Spirit. Often, indeed, this bond has not
preserved the church from confusion and discord. But
this has been owing to the unchristian conduct of its members, and not to any imperfection in the nature of the
bond. As the Church grows better, this perfect bond is
beginning to exert its proper influence; and the time, we
trust, is not distant, when the whole human race will become one family, by becoming children of the same Heavenly Father, and be bound together by brotherly love.
The Church, we may be then assured, is safe. He who
made this world for the sake of the Church; He who has
directed his whole system  of providence to promote her
welfare,-will not forget her.  He, who -took care of her
during the waters of the deluge, and in Egypt, at the Red
Sea and in the wilderness, in the land of Canaan, and in
the  captivity;-He  who defended her during bloody
persecutions, and watched over her during the long night
of Popish superstition,-will not forsake her at the dawn
of a better day. He who loved her and gave- himself
for her, has assured her, " Behold, I have loved thee with
an everlasting love. I have graven thee on the palms of.my hands.  Thy walls are ever before me. He who
toucheth thee, toucheth the apple of mine eye."
22*.



WHY MANY CHRISTIANS MISTAKE THEIR
OWN CHARACTERS.
2 COR, XIII: 5.
KNOW  YE NOT YOUR OWN  SELVES?
THE original word in the context rendered prove, denotes that kind of trial by fire, to which the artist subjects a piece of metal, to determine whether it is base metal
or pure gold. If inspiration deemed such care and fidelity
to be necessary in making the investigation which is here
enjoined, in order to prevent self-deception, instances of
such deception must be frequent; for rarely indeed do we
find those who are thus careful and faithful in trying their
own characters.
It must be obvious, that there are but two mistakes with
regard to this subject, which we can commit. One is, for
Christians to believe that they are not Christians. The
other is, for those who are not Christians to believe that
they are such. As such mistakes are always violations of
the duty of knowing ourselves; as they are of course attended with unhappy consequences, and may easily be
fatal; I propose at this time to lay before you some of the
reasons why one of those mistakes is often made;-in other




WIHY CIHRISTIANS MISTAKE THEIR CHARACTERS. 259
words, why true Christians frequently mistake their religious character.
In every such investigation, the question to be decided is
one and the same.  It is this: Am I a Christian?  The
true answer to this question is always the declaration of a
fact. In order that the reality of a fact may be proved,
two things are necessary. First, sufficient evidence of the
fact must exist.  Secondly, the real evidence of its existence must be collected and laid before the mind. As a
general answer therefore to the question, Why does a real
Christian sometimes conclude himself to be an impenitent
sinner, it is owing either to the fact that, in consequence of
his very low attainments in piety, scarcely any evidence exists of his piety; or to the fact that, although sufficient evidence of his piety really exists, yet he neglects by faithful
self-examination to collect that evidence and present it to
his own mind.
This general answer, though we see it to be logically
true, and though it comprehends every answer which can
be given to the question before us, yet is at once felt by
the mind to be less minute and particular than a case so
important and interesting demands. While, therefore, we
are compelled to descend to a more minute statement of
the reasons why persons fall into this mistake, we wish it
to be remembered that no reasons can be assigned which
are not comprised in these two: the want of evidence, or
a failure to discover whether there be evidence or not.
The Inquiry, then, which I propose to answer, is this:
Why do men often believe that they are not Christians,
when they really are?
-One cause of this mistake is, the very depressed state of
their religious affections.  Such affections really exist in
the mind of every Christian, and constitute all that within




260             WHY MANY CHRISTIANS
him which gives him  a right to the name.  In many
Christians, however, they are exceedingly imperfect.
Often they do not exist at all. Often when they really
exist and are in exercise, they are so low in degree as to
leave their existence doubtful. Often also they are soblend
ed with natural feelings, or with sinful affections, as to render
it impossible for the mind to distinguish between them.
Two examples will illustrate this difficulty. A Christian
parent wishes the salvation of his child. Does he wish it
merely because natural affection instinctively prompts him
to desire its welfare? Or does he wish it, also, because
he wishes the glory of the Godhead to be manifested in its
salvation?  A minister wishes and prays for a revival of
religion among his people. Does he do thus merely,
though perhaps unconsciously, to extend his own reputation
and influence, and secure the attachment of his people; or
because he really loves and prays for the salvation of their
souls? I need not inform those who know anything of
their own hearts, how apt our best affections are to be thus
tainted with selfishness; how prone the hearts even of
Christians are, when they profess to act for God, really to
act for themselves. Even Paul could say,:" The good that I
would, that I do not; but the evil that I would not, that I
do. I find then a law that, when I would do good, evil is
present with me. 0 wretched man that I am, who shall
deliver me from the body of this death!" If Paul could
say this of himself, in whose heart the flame of holiness
burned with a clear and steady light, what language ought
those Christians to use, whose piety is like the:smoking
flax-not yet kindled into a flame?  Such a person looks
back on the period since he began to deem himself a
Christian. The retrospect affords him little ground for
consolation.  He can find intervals of time, often of con



MISTAKE THEIR OWN CHARACTERS.            261
siderable length, in which his affections and conduct differed, if at all, yet imperceptibly, from that of an impenitent sinner.  If he had any evangelical affections, they
were all but frozen. If he had any spiritual life, it was
almost dormant.  At such times also he sees that there
was another law in his members warring against the law of
his mind, and bringing him into captivity to the law of sin.
He will indeed see other' intervals of a brighter aspect.
Yet the light thrown over them will be so uncertain, that
he will not know whether it is the light of self-righteousness,
which shines from a fire of his own kindling; or whether
there is blended with it the faint light of holiness shining
dimly, yet really kindled by the Spirit of God. In such a
life, little evidence of piety exists; and of course, in the
survey of it, little evidence can be discovered. When the
mind looks at the darker intervals, it indulges gloomy apprehensions that it is still impenitent. And even those
which are less dark, are surrounded by so dim and dubious
a twilight, that it scarcely dares to hope.
A second cause of this mistake is, the commission of
gross sins. This was the case with David. All the manifestations which he had enjoyed of the divine favor were
forgotten, when he contemplated the enormous sins which
he had committed in his conduct towards Uriah.  Even
the divine declaration, that he was the man after God's
own heart, ceased to yield him any satisfactory evidence of
his piety when he remembered his dreadful guilt.  Even
this could not prevent him from saying, " I cry in the day
time, but thou hearest not; and in the night season, and am
not silent. I am poured out like water, and all my bones
are out of joint; my heart is like wax, it is melted in the
midst of my bowels. Wash me thoroughly from mine iniquity, and cleanse me from my sin. For I acknowledge my




262            WHY MANY CHRISTIANS
transgressions, and my sin is ever before me. Against
thee, thee only have I sinned, and done this evil in thy
sight.  Behold, I was shapen in iniquity, and in sin did my
mother conceive me." The same was probably true of
Peter, after his denial of Christ. - Even our Lord's assurance that he was possessed of faith, and his promise that
that faith should not fail, were probably forgotten when he
went out of the judgment-hall-to weep over his ingratitude and guilt.
There are Christians who are, at times, so far left to
themselves, that they commit sins of a character peculiarly aggravated.  They may not indeed be sins alike gross
and monstrous with those of David and Peter. They may
be sins which, if they were known, would not be thought
sins by most men. A Christian can commit sins which, in
the nature of the case, an impenitent sinner cannot commit.  None but a Christian can be placed in those circumstances which must exist, to permit their being committed.
They may be sins committed in consequence of temptations, of which the mind is conscious at the time, when the
guilt of the conduct is brought directly into view, when
conscience and the Holy Spirit strive powerfully with the
mind to prevent the commission, and when God has recently favored the mind with peculiar manifestations of his
favor.  Conduct which, under other circumstances, might
perhaps have passed almost unnoticed, will at such a time
appear to be attended with peculiar aggravations. The
Christian who has thus back-slidden, or who has fallen into
more public and scandalous but perhaps not more heinous
sins, will not, like Peter and David, have received direct
personal assurances from God that he was his child.
Neither will he, like them, be able to look back on such
clear evidences of his own piety. Under such circum



MISTAKE THEIR OWN CHARACTERS.          263
stances, when he contemplates his temptation, his fall, and
the guilt which he has incurred, it is not surprising that he
should relinquish the hope which he had before fondly
cherished, and conclude that, if he had been a Christian,
he could not have discovered so much degeneracy and ingratitude. At such a time, the thick cloud of guilt which
envelops his mind will hide from his view the glory of God
in the face of Jesus Christ; and all around and within will
be gloom and uncertainty.
Still another cause is, the ignorance of divine truth, of
which many Christians are the subjects. All persons
familiarly conversant with those who are under convictions
of sin, know, that ignorance of the truth of God and of
the way of salvation is the cause of much of the anguish
of mind which is then endured. The reason is obvious.
They perceive their guilt and danger, and they have no
adequate views of the way of escape. The same is true
of such Christians as have no distinct conceptions of what
is meant by repentance, faith, and holiness, and no adequate views of what are real evidences of personal piety.
The truth of God, as it is revealed in the Bible, is the
great means of sanctification.  " Sanctify them  by thy
truth: thy Word is truth." But into a mind thus ignorant, truth can scarcely find admittance. If admitted, it
can scarcely act, and cannot manifest its proper efficacy.
This may be illustrated by a parallel case. A mathematician explains to an ignorant man the geometrical
truth, that the three angles of a triangle are equal to two
right angles.  Suppose him for the moment thoroughly to
understand it: of what use will it be to him?  Yet the
mathematician, by the help of this truth, will first build a
ship, and then circumnavigate the globe. In the same
manner, communicate what truths you please to an ignor



264            WHY MANY CHRISTIANS
ant Christian, if he comprehends them at the moment, he
does not know how to apply them; and for this reason,
they scarcely become in any degree the means of his advancement. in  holiness.  Knowing  imperfectly what a
Christian ought to be, he continues a very imperfect
Christian.  Conduct which  an enlightened  conscience
would at once condemn, he does not suspect. Principles
which such a mind would reject as false, he embraces.
Not knowing what are the evidences of piety, he does not
labor to possess them.  It is not surprising that such persons should walk in darkness, and grope for the wall at
noon-day as the blind. Perhaps few things are more frequently discovered in Christians, in those possessed of
sound understanding and who have long been Christians,
which ought to give pain, than this unhappy ignorance of
the Truth of God; of that IIoly Word which was given
us as a light to our feet and a lamp to our paths while
walking towards heaven. To such persons Paul addresses
a most necessary reproof: " For when for the time ye
ought to be teachers, ye have need that one teach you
again which be the first principles of the Oracles of God,
and are become such as have need of milk, andt not of
strong meat."
Another still is, the unfairness utlhich mrany discover in
judtling of the evidences of their own piety.  This remark
is now and then applicable to individuals who have professed Christianity; but it chiefly applies to a class of persons often found in our congregations who are real Christians, and yet are without the pale of the visible Church.
These persons were usually educated under pious parents,
and do not recollect when they first began to be conscious
of guilt and afraid of perdition. They had been always
instructed as to the way of salvation and the terms on




MISTAKE THEIR OWN CHARACTERS.           265
which it was offered. At some distinct period they became
more deeply interested in religious subjects, felt a more
lively consciousness of guilt, and became the subjects of
faith, repentance, and holiness. They were not conscious,
however, of peculiarly distressing apprehensions of the
wrath of God, nor of their own danger of final perdition.
Yet they found themselves impelled to their closets, they
knew not why; and, almost without being conscious of the
fact, discovered new beauty and excellence in all spiritual
objects.  God thus distinguished them  by his forgiving
love, and thus reasonably expected and required of them
at such a time lively gratitude, as well as perfect fairness
and sincerity in their treatment of Himself.  Instead of
the conduct which gratitude and sincerity dictated, they
concealed their feelings in their own bosoms. Often, while
in the company of Christians-especially of their parents
or their minister, they ardently wished that they could be
willing to unfold the state of their hearts; and when they
left them, resolved, that they would do this at the next
favorable opportunity.  Shame, however, or a distrust of
Christ, or an unfair estimate of the evidence of their own
piety, or a determination to be more holy before they should
profess the gospel, held them back, and the secret remained
in their own breasts. In this very conduct they were punished. As they did not publicly profess to be Christians,
they could not properly act as Christians; just as a man
who has not been licensed to practice law or to preach,
cannot with propriety appear at the bar or in the desk.
Neither could they feel that confidence which they needed,
to enable them to withdraw from the influence of this evil
worldl,-from its principles, its follies, its temptations, and
its sinful indulgencies. They were chiefly cut off also
from intercourse with Christians, and their love was rarely
23




266            -  Y MANY — CHRISTIANS
prompted towards them. Not believing themselves also to
be converted, they felt no covenanted obligations, they
were guilty of sin with less reluctance, and often for long
periods-chiefly or wholly-neglected the duty of prayer.
Occasionally they have brighter and better seasons, and
the strong affections of their souls are prompted towards
God and spiritual objects.  Yet these seasons do not differ
so materially from the time in which they became Christians, as to induce them to act; and their progress in holiness, through a lapse of months and years, in consequence
of these disadvantages, is so slow and so irregular, that they
do not discover it.  They remain in an apparently amphibious state. Neither themselves nor others can determine
to which kingdom they belong; whether the life which they
live in the flesh, is natural or spiritual life. The tender
mercy of the HIoly Spirit indeed sustains them, and keeps
them  from finally falling away.  Yet all this time they
have no evidence which seems to justify them in professing
Christ's name before men. This is the proper and deserved
punishment to which God subjects them, for the conduct of
which they were guilty when they became his children.
How long persons continue in this state, does not appear.
That they do not go to their graves in it, is not certain.
That they would always remain in it until death, were it
not for some peculiar occurrence in God's spiritual providence towards them  or others around them, we cannot
doubt.  If however the time arrives, when Christ has any
work for them to do as his open and professed followers, he
comes to them while they are wandering in a labyrinth in
which there is no way, takes them by the hand, and leads
them forth to light and certainty.
The causes which have been already mentioned, are all
included in the general one: a want ofsufficient evidence.




MISTAKE THEIR OWN: -CnARACTERS.         267
Those which I am about to mention, will be included in the
other general one: a failure to discover the evidence which
really exists.
One of these is, the immense importance of the case to
be decided.  This is no less than whether we are -the chil —
dren of God, and entitled to heaven; or whether we are
still the children of wrath. - The decision of any question
of vital importance even to our temporal welfare, will excite a deep interest in the mind; and prevent that calm
and quiet exercise of the intellectual faculties which seems
to be necessary, if we are to arrive at certainty.  Still
more is this true of a question which is felt to involve our
final welfare. When approaching its decision, the mind
feels the peculiar danger of self-deception.  To form too
favorable a decision; to believe itself renewed, when it is
not; it knows may easily be fatal.  But to conclude itself
impenitent, when it is really sanctified, though it may deprive us of present comfort and retard our progress in
holiness, yet will not lull us into a fatal security, but will
rather prompt us to increased watchfulness, and make us
more anxious to seek eternal life.  Thus mere policy seems
to determine the mind of such a Christian to a false conclusion, and instead of finding his safety in his piety he
finds it in his unbelief.  Although he does exercise some
degree of confidence in Christ, for without it he could not
be a Christian; yet the principle on which he mainly acts,
is that of distrust.  He cannot consent to go even to such
a Saviour, and commit himself unreservedly to him, trusting in his faithfulness to keep him from falling.  He does
not believe that Christ will thus keep him, unless he first
makes himself a better Christian, if he is one at all, and
in this way recommends himself to his notice. Ile intends,
therefore, to gain all the advantage he can from this course




268             WHY MANiY CHRISTIANS
of doubt and unbelief; and then, when he has made sufficient progress in holiness, to look to Christ alone for security.  What a delusion!  To believe that he can be safe
without depending on Christ, when his faith is feeble and
faint, and yet intend to depend upon him when it has grown
stronger. As confidence is the principle of moral attraction, uniting those who indulge it, so distrust is the principle of moral repulsion, necessarily separating all by whom
it is exercised.  Were such a Christian to treat his friend
as he treats his Saviour, their friendship would terminate
finally and forever.  But his Saviour is long-suffering, and
slow to anger, and plenteous in mercy.  While, however,
he acts from these selfish, disingenuous motives, he ought
to expect that frank and delightful communion with his
Saviour which confidence alone can justify.
Another may be found in the character, and circumnstances, of those who make it.  Some men are constitutionally gloomy.  They look, as we familiarly say, on the
dark side of every thing around them, and are at least as
prone to do this in spiritual as in temporal things.  Were
such a man and another who is habitually cheerful to become Christians at the same time, to possess equal degrees
of piety, and to be equally faithfill in self-examination, the
amount of evidence which would induce the latter to hope,
might lead the former almost to despair.  The same individual also will, at different times and under different circumstances, assign a different weight to the same evidence.
The state of the bodily health often has an influence on
the views and judgment, of which we are not aware. I
knew an individual, a preacher of the Gospel, a man of an
unusually calm and collected mind, and believed by all who
knew him, to be a man of very uncommon piety, in consequence of that loss of tone and energy to which all sedern




MISTAKE THEIR.OWN CH.ARACTERS.          269
tary men are liable, reduced to absolute despair, not only
as to his actual possession of holiness, but as to the hope
of ever obtaining it for the future.  This state of mindcontinued for several years, until a change of country and
climate restored his health, and with it his cheerfulness.
After this he did not hesitate to believe, that all his gloomy
apprehensions and conclusions were without foundation.
The best spiritual guide to a man in such circumstances is:
a discreet and skilful physician. The hopeless derangement of our: worldly circumstances is occasionally attended
by results equally unhappy. Few men can contemplate
the utter ruin of their property, without seeing every ob.
ject around them covered with gloom.
The backsliding and fall of those who have been supposed to be Christians, often occasions the same mistake.
Sometimes real Christians thus backslide and fall,  They
commit presumptuous and scandalous sins, and dreadfully
dishonor the Church of Christ.  Others who were believed
to be Christians, fall away, and are never brought to repentance.  And Christians who think humbly of their own
attainmrents, and are disposed to think others better than
themselves, when they behold such conduct in others,-in
those perhaps in whose piety they had strong confidence,are prone to doubt not only their own -piety, but that of
almost all other professors.  They see that: the persons in
question were deceived in believing themselves Christians;
well, therefore, may they distrust themselves.  Did we
realize how much Christians are prone to confide in men,
and how little in God, this fact would not appear surprising.
Christians often mistake their religious character, in consequence of comparing themselves with] others.  In such
comparisons they usually overlook the great mass of Chris23*




270             WHY MANY CHRISTIANS
tians, and single out a few individuals who are eminent for
piety. They read the life, or the diary, of some person of
distinguished excellence. They see how holy and unblamable he was; how frequent and delightful his communion
with God; how ardent his love; how firm his faith; how
deep his humility; how thorough his repentance; how
bright his hopes; how strong his consolations. Were they
to read such accounts to quicken their own progress towards
heaven, the perusal would be very profitable. But to derive
from them a criterion of personal piety, is to come to the
strange conclusion, that there are no Christians but those
who are eminent Christians.
This mistake is often heightened by the indiscreet conversation of those who have professed to be Christians.
There are those in the visible Church, who appear to find
their chief enjoyment in communicating their own religious
feelings to others. For this they are always prepared;
and in doing it they are always fluent and fervent. They
often mention their own deep sense of sin and contrition of
spirit, without mistrusting, perhaps, that they wish to be
distinguished for their humility. Their zeal is so animated
and ardent, that it would continually lead them into mischief, were it not restrained by the prudence of others.
Their religious comforts and joys are usually transports, if
not actual visions of Christ and of the glories of heaven.
The persons who thus converse, are sometimes unquestionably pious.  Yet most of what they deem  the brightest
evidences of piety is but the effects of a heated imagination. Humbler Christians of more sedateness and
good sense, listen to these representations, and are misled
by them. Deeply sensible of their own imperfections, they
are ready, of course, to esteem  others better than themselves.  When they examine the state of their own minds




MISTAKE THEIR OWN CHARACTERS.            271
they find no resemblance to these glowing descriptions.
Their sense of unworthiness is perhaps great, but so little
compared with what it ought to be, that they can only
mourn that it is no greater.  Their religious comfort is
usually a faint and trembling hope; and rarely rises so
high, as to deserve the name of joy. The result of the
comparison is, that they conclude those who thus converse
to be the peculiar favorites of heaven, and themselves to
be so unlike them, that it is scarcely possible that they can
be true disciples.
This mistake is also occasioned by our assuming false
tests of the CUhristian character.  From my own observation I am convinced that no error is more common among
Christians in this country, than to look for their chief evidences of a man's piety in the manner and circumstances
of his conversion.  We know this to be the case with some
other denominations. I wish that I could say, it is not of
our own.  On this scheme, if a man is a child of God, he
must know the time when he became such, if not also the
very place, and the posture of the body.  At the time in
question, he must have passed through a series of views
and affections, following each other in a certain prescribed
order.  He must state the event, or the conversation, or
the sermon, which first arrested his attention; the distress,
which succeeded, accompanied by increased hostility to
spiritual objects, and the comfort which followed.  If these
events follow each other in the proper order, and in quick
succession, the piety of the individual is not questioned.
Not a few real Christians, especially among those who
were born under the roof of piety, and were there taught
in infancy the truth of God, the comprehensive nature of
his law and the justice of its penalty, whose consciences
were thus enlightened from the beginning, and )who have




272             WIlY MANY CHRISTIANS
always known the fulness of God's mercy in Christ, when
they look back on their past lives, are unable to come to
any certain conclusion as to the period when they became
Christians.  They can remember various periods when
they felt a peculiarly deep sense of guilt, and an unusual
tenderness of conscience; and they almost dared to hope
in each of them, that they were the children of God. Yet
no one season, perhaps, was so distinguished above others,
that they could single it out as certainly the period when
the event took place.  Much less can they point out the
week, the day, and the hour, and still less the place or the
posture.  Nor can they mention the text of Scripture, the
sermon, or the event of providence, which the Holy Spirit
employed to fasten their attention on spiritual objects.
These facts distress them, and lead them to fear that they
want the clearest and best evidences of their own regeneration, if they are not wholly without evidence. Would
they in their self-examination confine themselves to the
only important question, Am  I a Christian? and see
whether they possess those evidences of the Christian
character which the Scriptures mention, they would reach
a different result.
The near resemblance of these affections which are evangelical, to corresponding affections which are not, involves
many real Christians in the same mistake. Every evangelical affection and grace has its counterfeit.  Thus an impenitent person may exercise a species of love to God, to
Christ, to his fellow-men, and to Christians; a species of
hatred to sin, of repentance, of faith, hope, joy, humility,
and zeal; a species of relish for the word and ordinances
of God; he may also evince a species of obedience in his
life, which himself and others may mistake for evangelical.
Some true disciples, knowing this fact, instead of allowing




MISTAKE THEIR OWN CHARACTERS.           2 73
it to have its proper and intended effect-that of quickening them in their progress towards heaven and making
them more faithful in self-examination, are prompted by it
only to despondency and relaxation of effort.
Christians also often mistake their religious character,
from the mercenary views with which they perform the duty
of self-examination.  They enter on this duty, not to
ascertain the real fact; not to humble themselves under
their sins; not to enliven their consciences, warm  their
affections and invigorate their obedience; but simply to
obtain comfort and peace from the discovery of evidence
that they are Christians. No conduct is more absolutely
selfish. None can be more foolish. They thus frustrate
the very object which they have in view. Instead of
spending life in searching daily after evidence of their
piety, they should spend it in bringing forth the fruits of
piety. Were God to inform such persons by a voice from
heaven, that they were his children, it would ruin them
forever.  They can hardly endure the little evidence
which they already have.  The only person who can safely
endure the strong, clear evidence of piety, is he who is
eminent for his piety. Thus to look after religious enjoyment in the knowledge of our safety, instead of seeking it
in the affections and duties of the Christian life, is in itself
merely sinful.  It is demanding that we should know that
we are Christians, when we will not discover the character
of Christians. The man who does not bring forth the
fruits meet for repentance, faith, and love, and yet attempts
to find evidence that he possesses these graces, has a task
to perform which no one will envy him.'" Show me thy
faith," says James, " without thy works," i. e. if thou
canst; " and I will show thee my faith, by my works."
Suffer me to remark, in closing, what evidence does this




274 WHY CHRISTIANS MISTAKE THEIR CHARACTERS.
investigation furnish us, "that the heart is deceitful above
all things?"  How are we impelled to ask, Who can know
it?  We expect to find this declaration true of every impenitent heart, both as to temporal and spiritual subjects.
But here we see those, who are not only bought with blood,
but renewed in the divine image, discovering in their most
secret retirements, when most conscious of the presence of
God, and when transacting the most solemn business between God and their own souls, this very obliquity, and
deceiving themselves by their own inventions. Before
Him, who requireth truth in the inward parts, how does
the heart of a Christian look?  0 what need: have we,
Brethren, if we are Christians, that our Great High Priest
in the Heavens should ever live to make intercession for us!




EVERLASTING LIFE, ALREADY BEGUN
IN THE BELIEVER.
JOHN  III: 36.
iHE THAT BELIEVETH ON THE SON, HATH EVERLASTING
LIFE.
ETERNAL LIFE iS the life of the inhabitants of heaven,
and is usually supposed to begin when the Christian enters
the heavenly world.  The Baptist here shows us that this
opinion is a mistake, and instructs us to regard every man
as in possession of eternal life from the moment when he
believes. IHe does not say, He that believeth on the Son
is entitled to, or shall have, eternal life; but he, that believeth on the Son, hath, i. e. he has now, he already possesses, eternal life-the same life with that enjoyed in
heaven,
When I say, the same life with that enjoyed in heaven,
you will not suppose that I intend the same in all its attendant circumstances. You will not imagine, for example,
that I suppose heaven to be the same place with earth; or
the state of existence of a separate spirit to be the same
with that of a spirit, dwelling in a firail, dying body; or
the objects visible to the two, in the two different worlds,




276               EVERLASTING LIFE,
to be identically the same. Eternal life, however, does not
consist in merely being in heaven, or in viewing its external
glories: for if an impenitent sinner were now in heaven
and saw all of God, of Christ, of angels, and of just men
made perfect, which the bodily eye can see, he would not
possess eternal life; and if an angel were to come down to
this world and remain here on the service of God until the
general resurrection, he would be still as truly in possession of eternal life as he is at present.  Neither will
you suppose me to intend the same life, in degree and perfection.  The eternal life of the Christian who has just
entered heaven, is exceedingly inferior in degree to that
enjoyed by Gabriel or Paul; still in its nature and properties, it is one and the same.
With these explanations, I shall endeavor to show you
in what respects the believer is already in possession of
eternal life. In doing this, however, I shall not draw my
illustrations from the character and condition of a young
Christian, who has just begun to live; nor from those of a
Christian who is so diseased with worldliness, that the
symptoms of life are scarcely perceptible. To render the
exhibition of this truth clear and striking, you must turn
your eyes on one whose heart is warm, whose pulse is vigorous, whose limbs are active, and who is gaining the
stature and strength of a full grown man. Eternal life is
begun in such a Christian, because:
The samne principle of life is already communicated to
his soul. Life, as an entity, has various natures, it exists
in various degrees, and may be possessed in any inferior
degree without being possessed in a degree which is superior. For example, a plant has vegetable life and yet does
not possess consciousness, feeling, or motion; a beast has
animal life, yet does not possess reason, imagination, or




ALREADY BEGUN IN THE BELIEVER.          277
conscience; a man may have rational life in full perfection,
and yet not possess the least relish for spiritual good; and
an angel does possess spiritual life in full perfection, and yet
can not possess that inherent, divine life, which is peculiar
to the Uncreated Spirit. If the testimony of God can furnish evidence of the fact, the souls of men by nature, as
to the possession of any degree of spiritual life, are dead.
They are without motion, or have no spiritual activity;
they are without feeling, or have no spiritual affections or
desires; they are without consciousness, or have no perception of the excellence of spiritual objects. Instead of
any signs of life, a moral decay has commenced, which
will render it necessary to remove them friom the sight of
all the living and to bury them in an eternal grave. In
this sense of life, they do not exist, nor constitute a part
of the spiritual creation of God, any more than a mineral
belongs to the vegetable creation, or a vegetable to the
animal creation, or an animal to the intelligent creation.
Yet, of those who have been thus dead, multitudes are
now dwelling on high, who are flourishing in all the youth,
and health, and activity of heaven.  The question then
arises, when did this surprising change take place; when
did this new and eternal life begin? We are not left to
conjecture how, when, or by whom, it was accomplished.
We know negatively, that it is not effected by death, for
death is simply a destruction of the animal life, followed by
a separation of the soul from the body; and it is therefore a
mere physical, and not a moral, change. As such, it has
no tendency to cause eternal life to commence, and vast
multitudes experience death, who will- never possess eternal
life.  Neither does it commence after death, either in the
sinner or the Christian: for as he who is unjust or wicked
at death will be unjust still, and he who is filthy will be
24




_278               EVERLASTING LIFE
filthy.still; so he only who is,righteous previous to his
death will be righteous still, and he who is holy will be
holy still.  That the Christian at death is divested of all
imperfection and sin, is certain; yet this will be only carrying on the work of sanctification more rapidly, and not
the communication of a principle of life; which did not previously exist. - We know also affirmatively, -that the Son of
God is the bestower of it,- for he giveth life- to whom he
will; that the Spirit of God is. the.agent who - communicates it, for it is the Spirit that quiclkeneth; and that -it
commences at regeneration, for John tells us, " This is
eternal life, to know thee, the only true God, and Jesus
Christ whom thou hath sent."
I The life thus communicated is new, as absolutely new,
as if feeling and motion were imparted to a vegetable; or
reason and conscience to an animal.. It is called spiritual
life, because the subject of it then commences a spiritual
existence, and begins to belong to the spiritual creation;
and perhaps, also, because it is found in its highest perfection in the pure spirits of heaven.  It is -not only new, but
it is the same in its nature with the eternal life of heaven.
We here do no violence-to language; for, when the seed in
the ground begins to germinate, we say that the germ has
the same vegetable life which afterwards exists. in the full
grown plant.; and that when the embryo is quickened, it
possesses the same animal life which exists in the  man.
He who possesses it,.becomes a living, spiritual being.
Before its implantation, though surrounded by spiritual objects, he exhibited no symptoms of life, no circulation
within, no consciousness of the objects without..But afterwards, the heart propels the -warm  current of feeling
through the soul, the eye discerns the moral beauty and
excellence of God, the ear hears his: voice, the tongue




ALREADY BEG-UN IN, THE  BELIEVER.         279
speaks- his praise, and the- hands -engage in his service.
This spiritual life thus begun, does- not expire with the
body.: It is a flame kindled:from  the fires of heaven,
which never can go out.:- It is a seed from  the garden of
Jehovah,  planted here, and nurtured with- infinite care;
that it may be- at length transferred to its native soil, there
to wear a verdure -ever vernal,-and -yet be ever loaded with
the fruits of Paradise.  Like the soul in which it is found, it
fears not the -waste of nature nor the ravages of death, and
is alike undecaying and immortal. - As beheld in the saint
in heaven, it is- but'a continuation of -the same spiritual
existence on which the Christian- enters here.  In both
worlds, as we shall soon have occasion- to remark, he is
surrounded -by the same-spiritual beings, and discovers
towards them  similar emotions'.- There he feels indeed a
stronger - love to God, a livelier gratitude towards him, a
fuller confidence in his goodness, a more tender affection to
the Saviour, a more entire complacency in holiness, a more
intimate union to his brethren, and -a more absolute good
will-to the universe of being; yet all these various exhibitions of holiness, though new, purer, and more constant,
really exist, and are called into exercise in the -present world.: That the same living principle animates the breast of the
believer in both worlds, is obvious also from  the fact, -that
it is nourished by the same aliment.  " Ii,"  says -the
Saviour,' "am  the living bread which came down from
heaven-; and the bread that I will give is my flesh, which
I will give for the life -of the world."' Here the believer
sees that this sacrifice -of- Christ is: the only reason why he'
is not subjected to eternal death; and the moment willnever arrive. in heaven, when- he will not know that, were
it not for- the same sacrifice, he could never have been
admitted to that world of life.:Here it is the sight of




280               EVERLASTING LIFE,
God, the discovery of his manifold perfections, especially
as they are unfolded in the beauty of redeeming love,
which wakes up gratitude, confidence, and joy, and which
calls forth adoration and praise; and it is only a nearer
sight of God, a brighter discovery of the same perfections
which he will enjoy in heaven. Here, while he receives
and cordially obeys the truth of God, his soul is refreshed
and purified; but this stream of living water which has
broken out here in the desert, comes from that Uncreated
Fountain to which the heavenly Shepherd conducts his flock.
He possesses and uses the same spiritual -Faculties,
which he will employ in heaven. It is not merely true of
the spiritual being, the renewed man, who has been thus
formed by the Great Quickener of the intelligent universe,
that he is alive; that by approaching him, as you approach
a sick man, you can barely hear him breathe, and feel his
heart palpitate and his pulse beat; but he exhibits the
more positive and obvious symptoms of lifeo  As living,
healthy, active men, have faculties, which they continually
employ; so he has spiritual faculties which are called into
constant exercise.
He has a spiritual Consciousness.  When any virtue,
any grace, of the spirit, for example, Christian love, is
presented to his mind as the subject of contemplation, he
not only perceives its nature intellectually, i. e. either by
a metaphysical investigation of the principles from which it
proceeds, or a consideration of the fruits which it produces;
but he also perceives its nature experimentally.  He himself exercises this grace; he knows what it is to love God;
he can turn the eye of his understanding inwards, and his
own consciousness tells him the nature of Christian love.
So when the holiness of God is the subject of meditation,
it may be of use to him  to investigate intellectually the




ALREADY BEGUN IN THE BELIEVER.           281
nature of holiness, and to consider- its effects; but as holil
ness in all beings is one and the same in its nature, he has
a shorter, a clearer, a livelier way of understanding that
nature, and that is, from  the consciousness of his own
mind.
lie has a spiritual eye, or discernment.   The natural
man receiveth not the things of the Spirit of God, for
they'are foolishness unto him; neither can he know them,
for they are spiritually discerned; but he who is spiritual,
discerneth all things." His view of spiritual objects is not
merely a sight of their physical and intellectual properties.
This the natural man has, and often far more clearly than
the spiritual.  It is also a sight of their beauty,-their
excellence,
He has a spiritual ear. -Once the whole contents of the
book of life might have been poured into the ear of his
understanding, and yet his heart would not have heard a
syllable.  Now the ear of his heart is open to catch the
sounds of divine truth. Once, if you explained to him his
duties, it was preaching to the winds.  Now he listens,
that he may hear what is the will of God. Once the notes
which: angels sung, fell powerless on his ear.  Now the
harp of Orpheus is not so sweet and ravishing, as the melody of redeeming and sanctifying love.
He has spiritual feelings.  Once, when motives were
addressed to him, connected with his personal interests, his
fears or his hopes, or those which'should have prompted
gratitude, love or confidence, not a sensation was excited.
]But now, when his soul comes- in contact with- the excellence and beauty of the Divine mind,, with the glory of
God shining in the face of Jesus Christ, or with the communion of saints, or the blessedness of the heavenly world;
the life-blood of the soul flows warm  and rapidly from  its
24*




282              EVERLASTING LIFE,
fountain through every artery, and every vein throbs with
new and unusual pulsations.
He is surrounded by the same spiritual Objects. That
an object may be present to an individual, it is not enough
that he merely knows its existence. I know that London
exists, yet it is not therefore present to me. Nor is it
enough, that it affect his senses or his mind. I can see
the sun or a distant mountain, and the spectacle produces
an appropriate effect, yet neither object is thus made pres~
ent. Nor is it enough, that the object be near. I may be
present in the same room with one who is deaf or blind,
and he may still not perceive me. In that case he is present to me, but I am not present to him. In addition to all
this, the mind must be in such a sense conscious of the
nearness of the object, as to be led to think of it, and feel
and act towards it, as present. When objects are in fact
present, we become conscious of this by evidence of the
fact conveyed to our minds. And here I may observe that
it makes no difference what the evidence is, provided it is
real, and is perceived. Thus the mind of a deaf and dumb
man may become conscious of my presence by seeing me, or
still more by perceiving those articulate motions which my
fingers utter; and a blind man, by hearing my voice or
feeling my hand. As most spiritual objects are not discernible in the present life by either of the five bodily
senses, God has furnished the mind of the Christian with
an additional sense, by which he becomes conscious of their'immediate presence. This sense is, faith. In the Bible,
God tells him that these objects exist, and that they are
present to him. By means of faith, the evidence of their
presence is thus presented to his mind, and he is led to
think of them, and to feel and act towards them accordingly.  6" Faith," says the Apostle, " is the substance of




ALREADY BEGUN IN THE BELIEVER.          283
things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen." He
does not indeed realize the presence of these objects in
the same manner as they do in Heaven, neither does he
realize it as vividly, and joyfully, and operatively; yet
when the vision of his faith is clear, and strong, and comprehensive, he does realize it as truly, as actually, as he
will when he escapes from his prison and sees as he is seen.
He sustains the same Relations now, which he will sustain in heaven. The relations which we sustain, depend
on our birth. By his first birth the believer becomes a
child of Adam, a member of the human family, and a relative of all his posterity; as well as a nearer and more intimate connection of that individual family friom which he
is immediately descended. It is on this oneness of descent
and blood that all the relations of the present life are
founded. By his second birth he becomes a member of
that family which Paul denominates, " the whole family in
heaven and earth."  His connection with that great family
does not, however, commence in the heavenly world; for,
if so, it would be described simply as the family in heaven,
and not as the family-a part of which is in heaven, and a
part on earth. He, as truly as those who are in heaven,
is born from above, claims a heavenly origin. This birth
does not take place in heaven, but on earth. " If any
man be in Christ," i. e. a Christian, " he is already a new
creature."  " Every one that believeth, is born of God;
every one that loveth, is born of God." Neither does this
sonship of the Christian commence hereafter, but here.
"Beloved," says John, " we are now the sons of God;
and it doth not yet appear what we shall be."  "The
Spirit itself," says Paul, "' beareth witness with our spirit
that we are the children of God." He is as truly a child
of the Lord Almighty, and has the same right when he




284               EVERLASTING LIFE,
approaches the throne to call him, "L Father!"  " For ye
are all,": says Paul, "s the children of God by faith in
Christ Jesus.":And because ye are sons, God hath
sent forth the Spirit of his Son into your hearts, crying,'Abba, Father.'9  This relationship, on one side paternal,
on the other filial, is as real,' as permanent, and, if it be
not the Christian's fault, as readily acknowledged by God,
as it will be in heaven. He is as truly a friend and
brother of Jesus Christ. He is as fully entitled to call- the
Holy Spirit, his Sanctifier and his Comforter, and to receive from him as constant supplies of purity and peace, of
holiness and joy.  IHe is as nearly related to the angels.
The church of the redeemed as truly know him to be one
of their number, remember the: day when his name was
announced as one of the new-born children of God, and
are ready to welcome him to the house of their Father.
He possesses now all the Rights, which he will possess in
heaven.  He is already justified.  Faith in the righteousness of Christ is the simple and single condition of his justification; and with that condition he complied, when he first
became a Christian.  As faith entitles him to all the benefits of Christ's obedience, so his -title is made out,-not
when his final trial is over; not when he enters heaven;
not after a long life of holiness; but when he first believes.
If, like the thief on the cross, he dies instantly after conversion, he is as truly a partaker of: Christ's righteousness,
as he would be, were he to outlive Methusaleh, or as he
will be in the great day of decision.  Ie does not need
the trial of that day, nor any previous trial, nor an actual
admission to heaven, in order that he may be justified.
The fact that he believes in Christ-as his Saviour, is known
to God, to Christ, and to all the flock above, for the good




ALREADY BEGUN IN THE BELIEVER.           285
Shepherd has said to them, " Rejoice with me, my friends,
for I have found the sheep which I had lost."
His right to his future inheritance is thus a vested right.
His title is not only made out, but written down in the
records of the upper world.  " The Spirit itself," says
Paul, "' beareth witness with our Spirit, that we are the
children of God; and if children, then heirs, heirs of God,
and joint heirs with Jesus Christ."  Surely, the inheritance of Jesus Christ is vested; and if the believer is a
joint heir with Christ, then his inheritance is vested also,
and the one can be no more defeated than the other. Like
an heir during his minority, while under teachers and governors, he has not indeed come into full possession of that
inheritance. Like him, however, he receives many an
earnest of his title, in that pleasant provision made for all
his wants from the stores of his father's bounty; but,
unlike him, he cannot, in consequence of fraud or violence,
or death, come short of his inheritance at the last.
He moves and acts in the same Theatre. Action, which
is nothing else than voluntary motion, is of course the result of Choice or Volition: and volition is the result of two
things; the Character of the mind willing, and the Objects
in the view of that mind which fiurnish it with motives.
The question, Whether the objects presented at any time
to the view of the mind, will have the force of motives,
prompting that volition which results in action, depends
wholly on the character of that mind. The same set of
objects may be presented to the view of two different
minds, with directly opposite results: on one their influence will be powerless, exciting no desire, calling forth no
effort; on the other they will exert their whole power, and
call forth all the energy of the soul.
The Theatre, in which an intelligent being moves and




286              EVERLASTING LIFE.:
acts, depends upon.the: scenes and the objects actually
before him, in the view of which, his mind -habitually puts
forth his energy.  The book of nature and the book- of
revelation spread- out two scenes, and two classes of objects, wholly distinct-and unlikel each other; the things
which are seen and temporals and the things which are
unseen and eternal.  The latter -class of objects are made
known and presented to the mind of a worldling under the
gospel, as truly as to the mind of a- Christian; and may, if
he pleases, act with their full and. appropriate influence on
his soul. But unhappily his treasure -is on earth, and his
heart is there also. -The:consequence is, that earthlythings are the only things which are - habitually present to
his mind.  These alone., prompt desire, and call forth andoccupy the whole energy of his being.  This world is the
theatre, in.which he lives, moves, acts. His eye sees nothing beyond it.  Its vision is bedimmed by his: lusts; and it
is always turned downward on the earth.  Conscience does
indeed at times inflict a pang, and a dread hereafter will
for a moment cover the:scenes around him with. gloom.
But he shuts his eyes, till the gloom is dispelled, and then
opens them anew, only to fasten them more intently on the
things beneath.  Would he first clear his vision, and - then
turn:his eyes upward, eternity with all its awful realities —
nay, heaven with its immortal glories, would burst upon his
sight, and wake up a feeling, an energy, which its owln
everlasting day would only strengthen and ennoble.  But-,
the unhappy man- loves nothing, and therefore sees nothing;
he feels nothing, and therefore -acts for nothing, but what:
is of the earth, earthy,  At first, the gratifications of
pleasure, afterwards those of power, or wealth, or fame,
alone move his heart and constitute his whole inventory of



ALREADY- BEGUN IN THE BELIEVER.          287
real good.  In- this narrow theatre he acts his wretched
part, until the drama closes and the curtain falls.
Not so with him, that believeth.  Faith has cleared his
mental vision; and as the objects which he supremely
loves are the things above, his eye is lifted from earth and
-directed towards heaven.  This- life, instead of including
his whole being, and all the objects for which he lives, is
merely the first scene on which he is called to act in the
drama of existence.  From  this world he looks outward,
and sees it to be a speck, an atom, in the creation of God.
From it he also looks upward, and sees that brighter world
where Jehovah dwells himself, and where his glory shines
from the face of Jesus Christ with no intervening cloud;
where the hosts of angels, as ministering spirits, wait his
bidding, ready to minister to the heirs of salvation; and
where an innumerable multitude of the just made perfect
already surround the throne. As he looks around him, he
sees his fellow-actors vanishing from the stage of life, and
entering by thousands and millions into the world of spirits.
As he casts his eye beneath, he beholds: a broad and crooked
path conducting downwards to the world of woe, and most
of his fellow-actors, as they leave the stage, take the path
to that melancholy world, and sink into its deep and dark
recesses. The sight- awakens all the feelings of his own
soul, and, with a compassion resembling that which is felt
above, he becomes a worker together with God and all
holy beings in rescuing them from everlasting woe. Thus
heaven, earth, and hell, are the Theatre in which he now
lives, and moves, and acts his part; and when he puts off
these vestments of clay and is arrayed in the glory of the
hosts on high, he will still appear in the same Theatre,
acting a nobler part-a higher character-in the same
great Drama, —the Work of Redemption,-the first scene




288              EVERLASTING LIFE,
of which was the Temptation and Fall of Man, and the
last scene of which will be the ascending of Christ after
the Judgment of the Great Day, with all the hosts of
Angels and the whole Church of the Redeemed, into that
New Heaven, that masterpeice of wisdom and glory, in
which Jehovah himself will love to dwell forever, and
which will be a full reward for the agony of Calvary, and
for the toils and the sufferings of seven thousand years.
He partakes of the same.Enjoyments. This is a consequence from what has been already said. If he has the
same principle of life, possesses the same spiritual faculties,
is surrounded by the same spiritual objects, has the same
rights, and is engaged in the same business, with those in
heaven, it can scarcely fail to be the fact that his pleasures
are the same; and that they are the same we have the
most abundant evidence. This part of our subject is at
once so refrieshing and so fertile, that it might most pleasantly and advantageously occupy a separate discourse. I
can here allude to but a few particulars.
One great delight of the heavenly world is found in the
knowledge of God.  "This is eternal life, to know thee,
the only true God." In the endless variety of his works,
both material and immaterial, the believer discovers here
as truly as he will hereafter, abundant evidence of Jehovah's wisdom, power, and goodness; while the course of
providence unfolds to him in conjunction with these perfections the divine immutability, justice, and mercy.  In
the Word of God all these perfections are drawn out in
living characters; and this supplies the place of that immediate revelation of God which is made in heaven: so
that here he sees God as in a mirror, instead of seeing
him face to face. IIe lives, too, in a world where the
brightest manifestation of God ever beheld in the universe,




ALREADY BEGUN IN THE BELIEVER.          289
was first made,-a manifestation in the view of angels so
far surpassing every other, that, when the Word was made
flesh and dwelt among us, they not only left the upper
world to see this great sight, but they also tuned their
harps anew and sung, " Glory to God in the highest;
peace on earth; and good-will to man."
Another source of heavenly bliss is loving God with all
the heart. The Christian on earth loves God also supremely, and can at times literally exclaim, " WVhom have I in
heaven but thee, and there is none on the earth whom I
desire beside thee!" In heaven the manifestations of the
love of God communicates a joy, too great even for the
souls of angels to contain; the Christian here also finds
that love when richly shed abroad in his heart, a sober certainty of heavenly bliss. In heaven he will be admitted to
a near and intimate communion with God; and there is not
a moment of his life on earth in which he is not at liberty
to be alone with God as his Father, in which God is not
willing to welcome him into his presence as a child tenderly
beloved, in which he may not have communion with God in
all that he is, and has, and does, and in which God is not
willing to commune with him in all his wants and sorrows
and emotions.
To Jesus also he may come unspeakably near, as God
manifest in the flesh.  With Him, his disciple can commune concerning all that he did and all that he suffered,
while on earth; and all that he is doing and will do for the
salvation of his church.
To the Holy Spirit, the dispensor of the grace of heaven,
he can come with wants as pressing and desires as strong
as his nature will sustain; with the supporting assurance
that he, who thus hungers and thirsts after holiness, shall
o5q




290 EVERLASTING LIFE, BEGUN IN THE BELIEVER.
be filled, and if he were in heaven he could receive no
more.
Here, too, as well as there, he can join in social worship
with the children of God. When that consecrated season
comes round which is a type of the everlasting rest of
heaven, God invites his children to meet him in his earthly
temple; and when there assembled, he reveals himself to
them in all the riches of his goodness and his grace.
There, as the believer sees Him who is invisible, he can
say with conscious certainty, " Behold God in very deed is
in this place. This is none other than the house of God,
and this is the gate of heaven." There, while he dwells
in the secret place of the Most High and abides under the
shadow of the Almighty with an assurance resembling that
of heaven, he says of Jehovah,'" He is my refuge, and
my fortress; in him will I trust."
It is for the believer and the unbeliever, on this occasion,
each to make a faithful application of this sacred theme to
his own breast,




FELLOWSHIP WITH THE FATHER AND
THE SON,
1 JOHN I: 3, 4.
AND TRULY OUR FELLOWSHIP IS WITH THE FATHER, AND
WITH HIS SON JESUS CHRIST. AND  THESE  THINGS
WRITE WE UNTO YOU, THAT YOUR JOY MAY BE FULL.
Two leading thoughts are here suggested by the Apostle: Real Christians have fellowship with the Father, and
with his Son Jesus Christ; The knowledge of this fact
should be the cause of peculiar joy. We are then
naturally led to contemplate,
The Nature;
The Reality;
The Extent; and
The Desirableness; of this Fellowship.
The Nature of this Fellowship first demands our attention.
Fellowship and Communion are words of the same import, and are employed indiscriminately as translations of
the same word from the Greek. That word, as well as the
verb which we render, to partake, are both derived from
an adjective, signifying, common; and to have or enjoy in




292             FELLOWSHIP WITH THE
common, is the original idea of the phrases, to Jartake,
and to have communion-or fellowship.  Fellowship, then,
is that relation subsisting between two or more individuals,
in consequence of which they have things in comnmon.
Such a relation, we are told, subsists between real-Christians on the one part, and the Father and his Son Jesus
Christ on the other.
To understand the Nature of this Fellowship, we must
consider the state of the mind which it implies; and the
things in which it exists.
It implies mwutual Knowledge.  On the part of the
Christian, it implies a knowledge of the true character of
God. He must know him as the eternal, self-existent, and
Omnipresent Spirit; infinitely great; knowing all things
past, present, and to come; infinitely and unchangeably
wise, holy, just and good, merciful and true; as the Creator, Proprietor, Benefactor, and Sovereign of all things.
I have said he must know his true character.  If his conceptions of God are false; if, for example, he supposes
him to have a bodily shape, or to be mutable, or not to be
the enemy of sin, or a God who will acquit the guilty,
his communion is with a false God, and not with Jehovah.
The Christian must know  the End, or Purpose, for
which God made and governs all things: the manifestation
of his own glory in the supreme and eternal happiness of
virtuous beings. HIe must know the general laws of his
empire, and the great principles of his government: that
he governs all beings and events according to a plan formed
in eternity; that he takes care that, while his creatures
follow their own wills, they accomplish his purposes; that
he rewards the obedient, and punishes the disobedient,
forever.
He must know the works of God: his Works of Crea



FATHER AND THE SON.            293
tion, both in the heavens and on the earth; and his works
of Providence, both in this world and the world of spirits,
towards men and angels, in time and in eternity-that he
may discover the wisdom and power, the goodness and
mercy, the justice and truth, manifested in them all.
He must know the Word of God: the Truth which it
unfolds respecting the character of Man; the Duties,
which it enjoins; the Character, which it requires; and
the Motives, which it presents.
He must understand the Work of Redemption: the true
character of the Redeemer; the design of his mission and
death to atone for sin, and to procure the mission of the
Spirit; the conditions on which Salvation is offered, Faith
and Repentance; the agency of the Holy Spirit in converting and sanctifying the heart; the Privileges to which
the believer is entitled, here and hereafter; the Promises
respecting the future glory of the Church, both on earth
and in heaven; and the endless separation of the righteous and the wicked at the General Judgment.
On the part of God and of Christ this fellowship implies
an exact knowledge of the Christian's character, his conduct, circumstances, wants, sufferings.
This fellowship also implies mutual Love. Mere knowledge may exist in any degree, without producing communion. The devils know all the things just mentioned; yet
their knowledge only renders them more hostile to God, to
his designs and his kingdom. The communion we here contemplate, is sincere and cordial; and cannot exist without
love.
On the part of the Christian this Love to the Father
and his Son Jesus Christ must be supreme; so that his
love to all other things even to his nearest connections,
is comparatively hatred. It includes supreme benevolence
25*




291             FELLOWSHIP WITH THE
towards God, or joy in his happiness; complacency in his
character; gratitude for his goodness; submission to his will;
joy in his government; and friendship to his designs.
On the part of God and of Christ it implies a desire for
the happiness of the Christian, and complacency-in his
character-so far as it is holy, compassion for his wants
and sufferings, and the forgiveness of his sins.
It implies Untion. We may both know and love the character and designs of another, and there may be still no communion with him.  We may know that a monarch is engaged in diffusing useful knowledge among his subjects, in
promoting their religious interests, and in generally seeking their happiness; we may love him for this conduct; yet
we cannot have communion with him, unless some connexion subsists between him and ourselves which creates
a common interest. By nature no such connection subsists between God and man.  We are aliens from  his
9family, and feel no common interest with him or his children.  If we are to feel this interest, we must assume and
sustain a new relation to God. He must adopt us into his
family, and we must become his children. This relation
gives us a title to be interested in all that concerns God,
and at the same time assures us that he is interested in all
that concerns ourselves.
It implies Co-operation.  Intelligent beings are active;
and their purposes, their designs, are the objects nearest to
their hearts.  If two such beings are to have communion
with each other in any important degree, they must have
common designs, and must co-operate in the measures
adopted to fulfil them.  If a wife does not co-operate with
her husband in promoting the temporal welfare or the salvation of their children, she has no communion with him in
these important objects.  The same is true of God.  He




FATHER AND THE SON.               295
has infinitely important and glorious designs which he is
ever carrying on in the presence of his creatures.  In his
great condescension he permits and invites them to cooperate with him in their accomplishment, and he instructs
them as to which are necessary. If the Christian under
these circumstances does not co-operate with God; communion between them cannot exist.
It also implies Intercoturse.  I intend by this word, that
relative situation of two intelligent beings in which their
minds meet; in which they become mutually conscious of
each other's thoughts, feelings, designs, and measures.  If
a husband were banished to a distant country with one half
of his children, while the wife remained at home with the
remainder; during this separation their mutual love might
exist, their relation as husband and wife would continue;
and they might diligently and successfully co-operate in
securing the salvation of their common family, by a faithful
discharge of the duties devolving on each.  Still, if they
could neither see each other, nor write to each other, nor
in any way hear from each other, they could have no communion in this common good.
The same is true of God and the Christian. They must
enjoy mutual intercourse. Their minds must meet on those
subjects, on which they commune. Each must be conscious of the views, feelings, purposes, and measures, of
the other with retard to these objects; each must know
that the other has this consciousness; and for this purpose
they must be conscious of being together, and must actually confer with each other.
If all these things exist; if God and the Christian feel
this mutual love; if they are united in the relation of
Father and child; if they co-operate with each other; and
if they maintain a holy and delightful intercourse; I see




296            FELLOWSHIP WITH THE
not that anything can be wanting to a full and perfect
communion between them.
We are next to notice the Reality of this communion.
This I shall argue, both from the Scriptures, and from the
Nature of the case.
The Scriptures abundantly assert this, and in a direct
form. The Text is an example.' Truly our fellowship
is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ."  So
Paul thus writes to the Corinthians,-" God is faithful, by
whom ye were called to the fellowship of his Son Jesus
Christ,"-and to the Hebrews, " We are made partakers
of Christ, if we hold the beginning of our confidence
steadfast unto the end."  God promised this communion
under the Old Dispensation. " I will meet you saith the
Lord; and I will commune with you in every place where
I record my name." Christ promised it to his disciples,
immediately before his death. " If a man love me, he
will keep my words; and my Father will love him, and we
will come to him, and make our abode with him."  1" The
world shall not see me, but ye shall see me."  Henceforth
I call you not servants, for the servant knoweth not what
his master doeth, but I call you friends; for all things that
I have heard of my Father, I have made known unto you."
In his Intercessory Prayer, Christ prayed that all his followers might enjoy this communion; "That they all may
be one, as thou Father art in me, and I in thee, that they
also may be one in us. I in them, and thou in me, that
they may be made perfect in one."  Christ also promised
after his ascension, that he would thus commune with his
people.  When he appeared to John in the Apocalyptic
Vision, he said to him in the message sent to the Church
in Laodicea, " Behold! I stand at the door and knock: if
any man hear my voice, and will open the door, I will




ATUHER AND TIE SOS.               297
come in to him, and sup with him, and he with me."' The
common blessing pronounced on all Christians by the
direction of God is, " The grace of our Lord Jesus Christ,
and the love of God, and the communion of the Holy
Spirit, be with you all. Amen." In accordance with this
truth, good men in all ages have regarded communion with
God as the greatest of all blessings. Thus Moses said to
God, in the tabernacle of the congregation: " If thy
presence go not with me, take us not hence." Thus David
expresses his own feelings on this subject: "Whom have
I in heaven but thee, and there is none on the earth whom
I desire beside thee?  As the hart panteth after the
water-brooks, so panteth my soul after thee, 0 God! My
soul thirsteth for God, for the living God; when shall I
come and appear before God?  0 God, thou art my God;
early will I seek thee.  My soul thirsteth for thee, my
flesh longeth for thee, in a dry and thirsty land where no
water is, to see thy power and glory as I have seen thee in
the sanctuary.  Because thy loving-kindness is better than
life, my lips shall praise thee."
This is also declared, in all the representations given
of the connection between Christ and his disciples. He
is the vine, and they are the branches. But the vine and
its branches partake of a common sap and a common life.
He is the head, and they are the members. But the
head and the members of the natural body have a common
blood, a common life, and a common consciousness.  He
and they are friends. But friends feel a common interest,
and partake in common blessings and enjoyments.  He
and they are brethren, and therefore joint-heirs. They
are the Bride, the Lamb's wife.  But the possessions, the
enjoyments, the interests of husband and wife, are in
common.




298             FELLOWSHIP WITH THE
This truth is also evident from the nature of the case.
The Bible makes the Christian acquainted with the perfections, designs, government, works, and word of God, as
well as with the character and the work of Christ, the
mission of the Spirit, the nature, terms, and means of salvation.  God also perfectly knows the character and circumstances of the Christian.  The  Christian loves the
character of God, and approves of his measures; and God
loves the Christian, so far as his character is holy. A
most intimate union subsists between him and Christ as
the Saviour, as well as between him and God. He has
been adopted. God has become his Father, and he is
God's child.  "Beloved, now are we the sons of God;
and it doth not yet appear what we shall be." As a son
he feels a common interest with his father in all that is his.
And God as his Father, and Christ as his Saviour, take a
lively interest in his welfare. The Christian, so far as he
is able, co-operates with God in his designs and measures.
6' We are laborers together with God," says Paul. God
also co-operates with the Christian, in his designs and
measures, so far as they are right, and so far as success
will prove a blessing. A constant intercourse also exists
between him and God. God is always present with him.
He surrounds the Christian day and night, and is acquainted with all his ways. Not a day passes, in which
he comes not frequently into the presence of God. What
the mind of God is, what are his affections, and designs,
and measures, he knows from the Bible. God also knows,
by inspection, what are the feelings, wants, desires, and
purposes of the Christian. In prayer and contemplation,
his mind meets the mind of God on these subjects.  They
confer together as a man converses with his friend. At
the same time, the Christian is conscious, at such seasons,




FATHER AND THE SON.               299
that God thus knows his views, feelings and purposes; and
God is also conscious that, through the Bible, the Christian
is acquainted with his.  Thus the Omnipresent Spirit is
present to the soul of a Christian, and holds a communion
with him which is far more intimate, confidential, and
delightful, than the latter can hold with any created being.
What, then, is the Extent of this communion?
By its extent, I intend the number and variety of those
things which God and the Christian possess and enjoy in
common.  It should be noticed that I am here speaking of
the Christian, who has not only shaken off his original worldly character, but who has also advanced towards the stature of a man in Christ Jesus. These things, I apprehend, are far more numerous than many who appear to be
Christians seem  to imagine.  They may be arranged
under two classes: those things which belong to God;
and those which, in a subordinate sense, belong to the
Christian. In the first, the Christian communes with
God; in the second, God communes with him. The second class, I need not say, is small, and, though interesting
to the Christian himself, is comparatively of little moment.
The first is boundless in the number of its objects, and infinite in its importance.
The Christian enjoys a holy and elevated communion
with God, while he contemplates the divine perfections
and glory.  The perfections of God render him what he is,
and constitute all his own happiness and glory. God dwells
on his own perfections with supreme complacency and delight. The Christian, conscious of his own relations to Jehovah, while he casts his eye upward, sees God's various
perfections, like the rays of the sun, all blended in one
effulgence of glory; and, while he rejoices in the beauty of
the all-perfect Mind, he is able to say, " This God is my
God, my Father, my portion, forever and ever."




300             FELLOWSHIP WITH THE
At other times his mind, with a prismatic power, separates these blended perfections, and surveys each in its
own appropriate beauty.
Sometimes the goodness of God passes before him and
melts his soul into fervent gratitude  and  admiration.
While the cords of love draw him near to his great Benefactor, till there is no distance to separate them, he is
ready to exclaim, " Oh that men would praise the Lord
for his goodness, and for his wonderful works to the children
of men! "  It was at such a season that Jacob said, 6" 0
God of my father Abraham, and God of my father Isaac 1
I am not worthy of the least of all the mercies, and of all
the truth which thou hast showed unto thy servant; for
with my staff I passed over this Jordan, and now I am
become two hands."  It was after such a contemplation
that ]David was led to cry out, as he sat in the house of
the Lord," " Who am I, 0 Lord God, and what is mine
house, that thou hast brought me hitherto."
Sometimes, as he ascends in heavenly contemplation, he
has clear and bright discoveries of the purity and holiness
of God. Of this Isaiah had a wonderful representation in
his vision in the temple, when he saw the Seraphim covering their faces with their wings, and heard one say to
another,'"Holy, holy, holy, is the Lord of hosts; the
whole earth is full of his glory."  The sight produced the
deepest self.abasemnent, and the prophet cried out, "Woo
is me! for I am undone, for I am a man of unclean lips, for
mine eyes have seen the King, Jehovah of hosts."  Job
had similar communion with God in his holiness, when he
said, " I have heard of thee by the hearing of the ear, but
now mine eye seeth thee.  Wherefore I abhor myself, and
repent in dust and ashes."
Sometimes he ponders with delight the truth and faith?




FATHER AND THE SON.              301
fulness of God, as manifested towards himself, and especially as manifested towards the Church, and her children
in all generations. While this view produces unshaken
confidence, he gives to God the glory: " Thou art a God
that keepest covenant and mercy. Thy truth is as the
great mountains, stedfast and immovable. Behold God is
my salvation; I will trust and will not be afraid."
Sometimes God reveals himself in his infinite greatness 
and while the Christian is ready to sink, he cries out with
Abraham, "How shall I, who am but dust and ashes, take
upon me to speak unto God."  Should he contemplate the
vastness of creation and the countless worlds of which it is
composed, he says with Isaiah, 6 "Behold! all these are as
the drop of the bucket, and as the small dust of the balance! "
The Christian instructed by the Bible, communes, as we
have said, with God, in his designs and purposes. Once,
when he looked back to the beginning of the creation,
when there was nothing but God, and remembered that
then God formed his plan for the creation and government
of all things; that then every globe and every atom, with
all their various motions, as well as every intelligent being,
with all his thoughts, desires, words, and actions, through
Eternity were present to the divine mind; and that all
subsequent events were merely the execution of this original plan; his heart rose up in rebellion against God.
INow he looks upward and views the very same eternal
purposes of God with joy and adoration, and he asks,
"Shall I not rejoice that infinite goodness chose, and infinite wisdom devised, and infinite power will forever execute
that plan which will manifest the glory of:Jehovah in the
supreme and eternal happiness of virtuous beings?
The Christian has communion with God, in his govern26




302            FELLOWSHIP WITH THE
ment. He looks upward, and sees Jehovah on the throne
and all things beneath his feet, and every thing is just as it
should be. Wicked beings in hell and on earth are
hostile to this government, and wish to overturn it. But
his language is, "'Jehovah reigneth, let the universe
rejoice; let the multitude " of worlds "be glad thereof."
lHe rejoices that Jehovah is Almighty, and with a filial
confidence can draw near to the throne and exult in the
sunshine of that power which can crush the universe to
dust. Even when he looks down on the world of misery
and sees the punishment of the enemies of God, he can
say with the hosts of saints and angels, "Alleluia, for the
Lord God omnipotent reigneth."
He has communion with God, in the works of Creation.
Sometimes when he meditates on the immensity of creation,
especially when he surveys the clear starry firmament, and
then ascends to its author, he exclaims with David,
" When I consider the heavens, the work of thy fingers,
the moon and the stars which thou hast ordained,-Lord,
what is man!"  At the same time, with filial love and
confidence in the highest exercise, he can say, 4'My
Father made, upholds and governs them all, and they will
constitute that immense and eternal kingdom in which he
will expend all the stores of his goodness and all the
riches of his grace." When too he recalls his eye to the
objects around him, and surveys " the bounteous store of
charms which nature to her votary yields;" when he contemplates the perpetual succession of sublimity and beauty,
of novelty and variety visible in the mountain and the
valley, the woodland and the plain, the land and the sea,
the changes of the seasons and of day and night, the
majesty of the storm with the terrors of the volcano and
the earthquake'; he sees in each of these the manifesta



FATHER AND TIlE SON.              303
tions of the same power and wisdom. And when he
contemplates the unnumbered millions of the beasts of the
field and the forest, of the birds of the air, of fishes in the
sea, of reptiles and insects; he says with holy adoration,
"All these wait upon thee.  Thou givest them their meat
in due season." Thus every object which he sees leads
him to commune with its Author.
Hie has communion with God, in the works of Providence. When clouds and darkness are round about him,
he rejoices that justice and judgment are the habitation of
Jehovah's throne. His eye sees a God employed in all
the good and ill that chequer life. In seasons of prosperity he says, " Thou makest me to lie down in green pastures; thou leadest me beside the still waters." In seasons.
of affliction he asks," Shall I receive good at the hand of the
Lord, and shall I not receive evil also? " It is then sweet to
reflect that " whom the Lord loveth, he chasteneth, and;
scourgeth every son whom he receiveth."   With Job,
when the affliction is extreme, he can thank God for send —
ing it.  The Lord gave, and the Lord hath taken away,
blessed be the name of the Lord." If his means of support for himself and family are diminished, he can say with
confidence, "The Lord is my Shepherd; I shall not want."
When dangers thereaten him, he knows that God sent
them, and that God controls them, and his language is,' The Lord do unto me as seemeth him good."
Ile communes with God, in his Word.  He  never
opens the Bible, but he hears the voice of God speaking to
himself. It is God who communicates. every truth it
contains; and however mysterious or humbling, he believes
in it and welcomes it as the truth of God. It is God who
dictates every precept; and as he reads he resolves to
obey. He not only accedes to, but rejoices in every




304             FELLOWSHIP WITH THE
threatening, as a sanction of a holy and righteous law.
Every encouragement draws him nearer to God. Every
promise he lays hold of in its fulness, whether it assures
him of a glorious reward for his own faithfulness, or tells
him of the future triumphs of the Church.
But in the Bible, it is his peculiar delight to commune
with Christ.  He approaches him as a Saviour mighty to
save, and says with Thomas, "My Lord and my God.'"
He communes with him in all that love which he manifested, as the angel Jehovah, to Patriarchs, and Kings,
and Prophets, before the day of his coming. Knowing that
he came to seek and to save that which was lost, he comes
to him as a sinner justly condemned, who can find no one
but Christ to save him from  perdition.  He surveys his
character, and it is all glorious within and without. He
receives his instructions as able to make him wise unto
salvation.  He dwells on his holy and perfect life, and
resolves to walk in his steps.  He contemplates his sufferings; and while he owns that no other sacrifice could atone
for his sins, the love of Christ constrains him to devote
himself a free-will offering to that Saviour who died for
him.  Every contemplation of his death leads him to more
thorough hatred and renunc'ation of sin, to stronger and
more prevailing faith, to a life of purer obedience; and the
sincere language of his heart is, " God forbid that I should
glory, save in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, by
whom the world is crucified unto me, and I unto the
world."  He communes with Christ as an ascended and
glorified Saviour. Looking upwards, he beholds him on
the throne, possessing all power in heaven and earth, holding the keys of death and of hell, and giving eternal life to
whom he will.
Remembering that lie who died to save the Church is




FATHER AND THE SON.               305
overruling all things for its good, he feels that the Church
is safe, and that all his own efforts for its extension and
prosperity will be crowned with success and acknowledged
in the final day. IIe attempts nothing therefore in his
own strength, but everything in the strength of Christ;
and looks for no blessing in his efforts for the conversion
of his children or of others around him, or for the recovery
of a world lying in wickedness, unless he secures the
co-operation of the Holy Spirit.
God also communes with the Christian, in all those
things which are immediately interesting to himself. The
Christian has daily wants; and he goes to his heavenly
Father and tells him of them all, and then comes away
with the gracious assurance that he shall not want any good
thing.  He has many sins, great and aggravated, but he
is not afraid to spread them out before the eye of Infinite
Purity, because he is sprinkled with the blood of sprinkling; and he comes away with a sweet assurance that his
sins are covered and his transgressions forgiven. He has
the business of life to transact; and he daily commits it to
God, and finds that God directs his steps. He has daily
duties to perform; and while he continually seeks the
divine guidance, a voice within him  says, "This is the
way, walk thou therein." He looks to God to provide for
his family; and He who feeds the young ravens when they
cry, tells him that he will not leave his children to hunger
or thirst.  Dangers always surround him; but he finds
that he who dwelleth in the secret place of the Most High;
abides secure under the shadow of the Almighty. The
souls of his children call forth his earnest cries -and:his
faithful efforts; and he takes hold of the comprehensive
promise, " I will be a God to thee and to thy seed after
thee."  He needs the daily presence and blessing of God
26*




806             FELLOWSHIP WITH THE
in his house; and he finds the words of Christ sweetly
verified, " If any man love me he will keep my words, and
my Father will love him, and we will come to him and
take up our abode with him!" He knows that death is
before him; but he can often say with David, " Though I
walk through the valley of the shadow of death, I will fear
no evil; for thy rod and thy staff they comfort me." And
when the hour of death has actually come, and he is summoned away into the unseen world, he perceives his
Saviour present, and is able to say to him without a doubt,
"Lord Jesus, receive my spirit."
Thus in all things, whether relating to himself and his
own personal and relative interests, or to God-to his
perfections, government and works, or to Christ-to his
mission and kingdom, the Christian may say, in the language of the text, "Truly our fellowship is with the
Father, and with the Son Jesus Christ."
We are also to notice the JDesirableness of this Fellowship.
After what has been already said, it needs scarcely be
observed, that it increases the Christian's resemblance to
God. The -character is continually affected by surrounding
objects. Men are ever exerting powerful influence on
each other.  No two individuals can associate familiarly
without assimilating in character. The expressive proverb
of common sense, that' a man is known by the company he
keeps,' and the declaration of inspiration, " He that walketh
with wise men shall be wise, but the companion of fools
shall be destroyed," teach us how prevailing is this mutual
influence.'Especially is this true, where one of the
individuals is greatly superior to the other in energy of
character.  No one can be the intimate friend of a man
of uncommon depravity without becoming thoroughly cor



FATHER AND THE SON.               307
rupted; and no one can associate with a man of distinguished piety and virtue, without becoming like him in the
purity and excellence of his character.
How great then, how transforming must be the influence
exerted by God! The energy of his character is infinite.
In daily communion with him we come into his immediate
presence, and while we dwell with reverence and delight
on his uncreated beauty and glory, we surrender ourselves
to his influence, and are gradually formed into the same
character.  "But we all," says the Apostle, " with open
face beholding, as in a glass, the glory of the Lord, are
changed into the same image, from glory to glory, as by the
Spirit of the Lord.  This is the true secret of the Christian's
growth in grace. His soul, like the dawning light, shineth
more and more unto the perfect day; and when admitted
to the unclouded presence of God and of Christ, in heaven,
this resemblance will be complete.  "Then," says John,
"' we shall be like him, for we shall see him as he is."
Must it not afford an equal security against temptation
and sin? Joseph, in the hour of peculiar trial, found his
safety in fleeing immediately to the Divine protection:
" How shall I do this great wickedness and sin against
God?"  In this refuge, David tells us, was his daily
safety: L' I set the Lord always before me; because he
is at my right hand, I shall not be moved." Every
Christian also, who, like David, leads a life of daily communion with God, can testify as he did, "L Ie that dwelleth
in the secret place of the Most High shall abide under the
shadow of the Almighty.  I will say of the Lord,'He is
my Refuge and my Fortress; in him will I trust."  The
Christian never so distinctly discovers the odiousness of
guilt and sin, as when he contrasts it with the purity of
-God. His habitual consciousness of the Divine presence




808             FELLOWSHIP WITH THE
and his habitual contemplation of the Divine perfections
restrain the disposition to sin, and render his victory easy
and certain.  When Satan comes near to seduce him and
lead him captive, he has a refuge in the Divine presence
whither the adversary of his soul dare not follow him.
When the world spreads its snares around him, if God is
with him, and his hand supports him, he finds that his feet
are not taken.  If his own lusts rebel, the presence of
God brings them  into immediate captivity.  " This I say
then," exclaims the Apostle, " walk in the Spirit, and ye
shall not fulfil the lusts of the flesh."
Nor is this fellowship less supporting in every species of
trial. If dangers surround the Christian who thus walks
with God, he can firmly say, " The Lord is my Portion:
I will not fear what man can do unto me.  Surely he shall
deliver me from the snare of the fowler and from the noisome pestilence. HI-Ie shall cover me with his feathers, and
under his wings will I trust.  His truth shall be my shield
and my buckler." If the events of Providence are dark
and mysterious, he can remember that justice and judgment
are the habitation of God's throne. If his property is
taken away, he has a treasure in God of which nothing can
deprive him. If his friends prove false or are removed by
death, Jesus is a friend who cannot die, and who will never
prove faithless.  If the valley of death is before him, its
glooms are dispelled, its terrors gone, for Jesus himself is
there.
It yields, we may add, a corresponding enjoyment.
What can be a source of higher joy than a firm assurance
that our peace is made with God, that sin, the sting of
death, has been taken away, and that heaven is our eternal
inheritance? But communion with God will give us this
assurance. There is, however, if possible, a higher joy




FATHER AND THE SON.                 309
than this, which it will also impart. Our personal blessings
must indeed be secure, if we are to possess anyhigh enjoyment.  Yet that state of the mind is not the happiest, in
which it often reflects on the question whether its blessings
are secure.  That question, probably, never occupies
the attention of the inhabitants of heaven.  There is in
God himself an infinite fulness of good.  If the mind is
rightly attempered to enjoy him, if it has a suitable relish
for his spiritual beauty aud glory so that all other things
appear as worthless, God can manifest himself to that mind
in such a manner and to such a degree, as to satisfy every
desire.  The discoveries of Himself may be easily rendered so clear and bright, as to draw forth every affection
of the soul until it is lost in the depths of Infinite love.
This enjoyment is absolutely pure. It has no earthly nor
animal mixture, for it springs up in a rational and purified
mind, while loving with all the heart Him who is Infinitely
lovely. It is solid and substantial, for it rests on the love
of God.  It is satisfying, for he who drinks of this Uncreated fountain perceives all other enjoyments to be broken
cisterns that can hold no water.  It is elevated, for it is
derived from Him who is higher than the heavens. It is
unfading and without end, for He who bestows it is infinite
and eternal. This enjoyment, the earnest, the commencement of life eternal in the soul, springs from fellowship
with God; and the degree in which it is possessed will
depend on the nearness, the purity, and the constancy of
this communion.
Such a fellowship, it is apparent, is also the highest
honor to which a rational being can aspire. We deem it
the peculiar honor and privilege of angels, that they
always behold the face of God.  Yet this is the very
honor to which the humblest Christian is admitted, whose




310        FELLOWSHIP WITH TIIE FATHER.
fellowship is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus
Christ.  Every day he is admitted to the immediate presence of God. He sees him as the world sees him notas his Father, Redeemer, and Sanctifier, as his Mediator,
Comforter, Guide, and Portion. He not only sees him,
but is permitted to come near to him, and to converse with
him face to face. When he calls him his Father, God
owns him as a child.  When he looks to him  as his
Saviour, Christ acknowledges him as one ransomed by his
blood. When he addresses him as his Sanctifier, he finds
that the Spirit of holiness dwells in him as in a living
temple, making him a partaker of the divine nature and
preparing him for the more immediate presence and enjoyment of God in heaven. What honor, let me ask, can be
compared with this? To be admitted even once into the
presence of a powerful monarch, is accounted a high distinction. To be thus admitted daily is the peculiar privilege of nobles and princes. But the Christian, partaking
of this fellowship is admitted into the immediate presence
of the Monarch of the Universe, not once, nor occasionally,
but daily and hourly, whenever he is willing to approach
him. He may converse with God in the most unreserved
and confidential manner, may communicate all his feelings,
make known all his wants, confer with him respecting the
prosperity and glory of his kingdom, and be employed by
him in the same work in which angels are engaged-the
work of recovering immortal minds from ruin, and raising
them to glory, honor, immortality. This is the honor that
cometh from God only.
This subject, so sacred, so searching in its tests, is its
own application both to the Christian and to the impenitent
hearer.




IIEAVEN.
HEBREWS XII: 22.
THE HEAVENLY JERUSALEM.
JERUSALEM was the peculiar residence of God below;
the place where he manifested his presence, his goodness
and his grace, as he did no where else on earth. Heaven
is the peculiar residence of God above; the place in which
his presence is felt, his goodness displayed, and where his
glory shines forth as it does no where else in the universe.
This is the reason why the one is made a type of the other,
and why the latter is styled by the Apostle in the text,
" the Heavenly Jerusalem."
This passage may fitly invite us to a contemplation of
Heaven, as it is described to us in the Scriptures.  This is
a subject which the Scriptural writers continually introduce.  Their own feelings instinctively led them to the
contemplation, and they appear to wish to describe it, as
that residence above which we are all urged to secure, and
which the children of God will forever occupy.  But a few
of the more prominent particulars of this description can
be included in a single discourse.




312                   HEAVEN.
Heaven is described as a Place.  I know that it has
been much disputed whether Heaven is a State, or a
Place; whether it is the happiness enjoyed by separate
spirits, or the region in which it is enjoyed. This dispute
seems to have arisen frem misapprehension.  When it is
said that Heaven is a place, it is not intended that it is a
globular or a material world like the earth or the sun, to
which its inhabitants are confined by the attraction of
gravitation.  Neither will those who regard Heaven as a
state affirm, that its inhabitants never enjoy each others'
society, and that they float in eternal solitude on the ocean
of Immensity, but in the enjoyment of God.
If those who deem Heaven to be a place had described
it as that portion of the universe, where saints and angels
are gathered together, where they see and converse with
each other, and where they behold the glorified body of
Christ, probably the dispute would not have arisen.
It is usually said that place or locality is not predicable
of separate spirits, and that a spirit cannot be said to be in
place at all, except with respect to its operations on matter.
This, however, is obviously said rashly, and without evidence. A created spirit is not omnipresent. If, then,
separate spirits exist and are not everywhere, they are
somewhere.
Both common sense and the Scriptures show us that this
conclusion is sound. The soul of a living man is in his
body, in a sense in which it is not in the body of another
man. When the body moves, the soul moves with it from
one place to another. At death it ceases to be present
with the body, and goes away. The separate spirit of
Moses was as truly present on the Mount of Transfiguration as the body of Peter, and as truly left the Mount after
the interview with Christ. In the same malnner, the souls




~ HEAVEN.                  313
of the righteous are spoken of in the Scriptures as going
to heaven after death; and the angels are represented as
descending from heaven and as ascending in return.
They also teach us that the souls of the wicked are not
mingled with those of the righteous, but are separated
from them and gathered into another place. At the
present time, the bodies of Christ, of Enoch and Elijah are
in heaven; and those of the righteous, after the Resurrection, will all ascend to Heaven. It is not, therefore,
merely in accommodation to our weak and imperfect conceptions that heaven is uniformly spoken of in the Scriptures as a place. Though we conceive of no solid,
material world on which its inhabitants move, and to which
they are confined, yet, when we know that angels and
saints are  there assembled, and  dwell together with
Christ, and behold his glory, it is with metaphysical exact.
ness that we represent heaven as a place, and not merely
as a state of existence.
Heaven is a place of great Extent.
Our views of the extent of heaven are often exceedingly
inadequate.  This may be partly ascribed to the manner
in which heaven is described in the Scriptures. There it
is often represented under the image of a House, to show
the endearing relation which God sustains to its inhabitants.
If we view heaven as a house, they constitute a family of
which God is the Father and they are the children. As
children, they live in his presence, partake of his bounty,
and constantly enjoy his paternal love. Instead of receiving this delightful instruction from the language, we too
often make use of the image of a house to narrow  our
views of the extent of heaven.
Heaven is represented as a Temple, and its inhabitants
as priests offering incense around the altar. Yet, so
27




~314                   HEAVEN.
gross and earthly are our conceptions that, instead of
learning from this delightful image that heaven is the
residence of pure and spotless minds, and the place where
the spiritual beauty of Jehovah shines forth, we give to
Heaven itself a material subsistence, the shape of a church
or a temple far above us, indeed, and in dimensions somewhat larger than the temple of Solomon.
Heaven is often described as a City, with walls, and
gates, and streets, and buildings. As the capital of a
great empire, in which the monarch and his court reside,
is the seat of power, the centre of intelligence, and contains the richest displays of art and magnificence; so, when
heaven is represented to us as the city of the living God,
the residence of angels and saints, who are the nobles and
princes of his empire, we are taught that it is the seat of his
government, the place where the magnificence of creative
wisdom is displayed, the spot where all the intelligence
respecting his vast empire is collected.  Yet we too often
interpret the language literally, and our minds dwell on
the image of a large city until our views of its extent
become diminutive and low.
The Scriptures, did we properly observe their language,
would correct mistakes of this nature. They not only
speak of heaven as a house, a temple, a city, but also
employ images to describe it which imply a far greater
extent.  They speak of it as a Country, and a Kiwndom;
the country to which the righteous have gone, the kingdom which they will inhabit forever. They also represent
it as a World.  "They," says our Lord, " who shall be
accounted worthy to obtain that world, are equal to the
angels, and are the children of God."
When the Scriptures represent it as the residence of
separate spirits, they authorize us to form. views of its




HEAVEN.                   315
extent as almost unlimited. Material worlds were formed
for the residence of sluggish, material bodies, and need not
therefore be large. But separate spirits, we know, move
with a rapidity incomparably greater than that of light,
and approaching that of thought itself. If, then, the
extent of Heaven corresponds to the nature and faculties
of its inhabitants, and is large enough for them to expatiate
freely, our minds can set no limits to its extent. Solomon,
in his prayer at the dedication of the Temple, conveys to
us this idea, in the most impressive manner. Alluding to
the immensity of God, he says, " Will God indeed dwell
on the Earth! Behold the heaven and heaven of heavens
cannot contain thee!" 9  If he had not supposed the extent
of heaven to be immeasurably great, compared with that
of the earth, his language would have been without force
or meaning.
Heaven is a very populous world.
The native inhabitants of heaven  are exceedingly
numerous. Wherever the  angels are mentioned, the
language employed indicates that their numbers are very
great.  They are described as a host or army: "Who
doeth according to his will in the army of heaven, and
among the inhabitants of this lower world."  They are
mentioned as numerous hosts or armies. John tells us that
he saw the armies of heaven following after Christ. And
Job, by asking the question, " Is there any number of his
armies," teaches us that even the number of the armies of:
heaven cannot be reckoned.
Whenever the sacred writers refer us to the number of the
angels, they either use the greatest numbers ever employed
in the language of the Scriptures, or they inform us that
the number is too great to be computed. Thus Daniel
tells us that, when the Ancient of days sat upon his throne,




316                   HEAVEN.
1" thousand thousands ministered unto him, and ten thousand times ten thousand stood before him."  In the same
manner, John asserts that the number of the angels whom
he saw about the throne was "ten thousand times ten
thousand, and thousands of thousands." The first of
these numbers taken literally, denotes one hundred millions; and, when used in connection with the second, is a
Hebrew idiom expressive of a number which is great
beyond all possible computation.  It is also mentioned as a
characteristic of Jehovah, that he numbers the armies of
heaven and calls them all by their names, as if this were a
task which no one else were able to accomplish. And in
the context Paul teaches us that we are to understand by
these and similar representations that the Holy angels are
literally without number.  "But ye are come to an
innumerable company of angels."
The number of saints in heaven is also very great.
John, when describing heaven as it existed when he was
upon earth, speaks of the spirits of the just as a vast multitude which no one can number. To these we must add
the many millions who since that period have ascended to
heaven, if we would learn the whole number already
assembled there. If we look forward to the arrival of the
Latter Day, we learn that the number of those who are
every year to enter heaven will be continually and rapidly
increasing. During the long reign of Christ on earth,
this world will be nothing but a nursery for heaven. One
generation will pass away, and another will come in rapid
succession, and each will furnish its hundreds and probably
its thousands of millions to the upper world. If then the
redeemed in heaven, in the time of John, were a multitude
which no one could enumerate, how vast beyond conception will be their number on the morning of the Final
Day!




HEAVEN.                    317
Heaven is a world peculiarly connected with that in
which we dwell.
As the city of the Great King, the metropolis of his
empire, Heaven is connected with every world throughout
his vast dominions. The metropolis of an extensive empire
is the centre, the heart, from which life, activity and influence circulate to the remotest provinces, and to which they
unceasingly return. The various worlds and systems of
worlds in the universe are the provinces of the empire of
God. As distinct governments, they are entrusted to the
nobles and princes of his court; who are accordingly
spoken of as Thrones and Dominions, Principalities and
Powers, in heavenly places. As these celestial beings
visited our first parents in paradise, so we cannot doubt
that they visit all the varioas worlds entrusted to their
care; and these maintaizI uninterrupted intercourse between the metropolis,ad every part of the empire.
The connection between this world and heaven is far
more intimate tbln that which subsisted before the Fall of
Adam; in vzrious respects it is more intimate than that
which can subsist between heaven and any other world.
It is not placed, like other worlds, merely under the operation of the general laws of the empire. By the work of
redemption it has been singled out from the rest of the
universe, and placed under a dispensation of grace.  The
great design of this dispensation is to recover the inhabitants of this world from ruin, and to gather them together
in heaven. This consummation is the reward of the righteousness of Christ; and is a far more glorious exaltation
than that which the perfect obedience of the first Adam
could have secured for his posterity. This work of the
New Creation began immediately after the Fall, and has
continued to the present moment. Whenever one sinner
270




318                     EAVEN'.
is converted, the intelligence not only reaches heaven, but
occasions more joy in the angels of God than the perseverance of ninety and nine just persons who need no repentance. The angels, however, are not mere passive spectators of this work. As ministering spirits, they are sent
forth to minister unto them who are the heirs of salvation,
to protect them from their enemies, and to conduct them
safely to heaven.  The way from this world to heaven has
thus become a high-way in which the angels of God are
continually ascending and descending.
The King of heaven has, also, in a peculiar manner been
present in this world. As the Angel Jehovah, he appeared
to the patriarchs, on Mount Sinai, in the Holy of Holies,
and to the prophets of Israel and Judah. In the fulness
of time he became flesh, and dwelt among us, and we beheld his glory.  In this world and in this alone, has God
assumed a local habitation-the Mbody of the Man Christ
Jesus; and no nature, but the naturv  of man, has ever
been received into a personal union 1ith the nature of
God. No race of creatures but our own cOn look up to
heaven, and there beholding him who sitteth oh the throne,
even the Lamb that was slain, can say, " This glorious
Person, in whom all the fulness of the Godhead dwelih and
whom all the angels worship, was made in all respects, sin,
excepted, like unto us his brethren, and is Emmanuel, God
with us." In three instances, God the Father has been
also manifested on earth: once at the baptism of Christ,
again on the Mount of Transfiguration in the voice and the
cloud of glory, and again by a voice from heaven a few
days before the death of Christ. In one also the Holy
Spirit has appeared among us in a bodily shape, like a
dove. Since the ascension of Christ, the Spirit has constantly dwelt on earth, as the Sanctifier, by his divine in



HEAVEN.                    319
fluence renewing the souls of men and preparing them for
heaven.  Those whom  he renews are born from above,
and are made the heirs of heaven. While here, they are
mere pilgrims, on a journey to heaven.  There a place is
prepared for them by Christ; and thither, when they die,
they instantly ascend.
Thus heaven and earth have become intimately connected.  Jesus of Nazareth is head over all things in heaven
and earth. A vast multitude of the human family have
already been there admitted.  Many more are now on
their way.  Soon peoples, nations, and languages, will enter on this journey. At the final consummation, all that
part of the human family which God intended to recover
from  a state of ruin, will be collected in heaven; and
heaven and earth will be " no more twain, but one."
Heaven is a world of knowledge.
There will be no error in heaven; for none of the causes
of error will there be found. Prejudice will not there close
the eyes against the discernment of truth.  Pride will not
there lead it to investigate those things which it cannot
comprehend. The love of sin will not bias and warp its
decisions, in favor of falsehood.  No liar will be found there,
to deceive with regard to facts; no sophist, to mislead with
regard to principles.  The love of truth is there the only
character, and its influence is controlling over every heart.
Tile knowledge of heaven is not, like much of ours, mere
doubt or conjecture.  It is attended by certainty.  God,
the Sun of the Intelligent Universe, shines on every object
of contemplation within the reach of saints or angels; and
the eye of the mind looks on, and sees it as it is.  This
certainty of knowledge is much insisted on in the Scriptures. John, describing the vision of Christ at his coming,
thus affirms:  " We shall be like him, for we shall see him




320                   HEAVEN.
as he is."  " Now," says Paul, " we know in part: but
when that which is perfect is come," i. e. when we arrive
at our perfect state, then this partial knowledge will be
done away. With his present knowledge he compares himself to a child; but then he will be a man, and put away
childish things. " Now," he says," we see through a glass
darkly; but then face to face.  Now I know in part;
but then shall I know even as also I am known."
The inlets of knowledge will be wonderfully changed.
Here the soul is confined to a narrow house of clay, and
has no medium of communication with the surrounding universe except through the senses; three of which convey
perceptions to the animal nature merely, and only two to
the intelligent nature. Had it not been for these five dark
windows through which a little light from without is let in,
the soul would have been wrapt in perpetual night. From
this dungeon the disembodied spirit of the believer goes
forth to the regions of light and day.  Like a prisoner set
free he expatiates freely and gladly, and is lost in astonishment at the beauty, grandeur, glory, which every where
surround him.
The desire of knowledge, which is here feeble and possessed but by few, is one of the most distinct characteristics of the inhabitants of heaven. Here, a few hours'
mental labor exhausts our powers, and the mind is compelled to relax its efforts.  There, it will be incapable of
weariness or decay, and possess the activity and energy of
a separate spirit. Here, the faculties are feeble; the discrimination is imperfect, the memory treacherous, the
imagination grovelling, and the reasoning powers are sluggish and erring.  Who can conceive of the change wrought
in the embodied mind, when its faculties shall qualify it to
converse with angels, and to appear with dignity in heaven!




HEAVEN.                   321~
How strong will be its memory, when impressions once made
will never be effaced.  How lofty its imagination, when it
can ascend with safety to the consecrated heaven, where
the ever-blessed Three dwell in holy and blessed communion
forever.  How intuitive its reason, and how strange its discoveries, when conclusions now learned only by the most
difficult demonstrations, shall be seen to be true at a glance
and by bare inspection, and shall be taken for granted at
the outset of its researches.  What attainments will be made
in knowledge by a mind of such faculties in that world of
truth and certainty, through the progress of everlasting
ages?
The kinds of knowledge which the Christian will acquire
in heaven, deserve our notice. He will acquire a knowledge of Events.  The angels were present on the morning
of the Creation.  Then " the morning stars sang together,
and all the sons of God shouted for joy," when they saw, at
the command of Jehovah, suns and planets starting into
existence.  They were acquainted with the original state of
heaven; they beheld the fall of Lucifer and his angels, the
happiness of Eden, and the fall of our first parents.  They
have been constant and attentive observers of the providence of God, not only in earth and heaven, but in every
other world through his vast dominions. Especially have
they watched the work of Redemption. They remember
how this plan of mercy was first intimated, how it was
gradually unfolded in heaven and on earth; and the whole
history of every part of it is fresh in their memory.
Heaven, as the metropolis of the Divine empire, is also
the centre of intelligence.  No event which occurs in the
Universe is too small or trifling to be immediately known in
heaven. In this world not a beggar can die who is the
child of God, but angels are present to conduct him home.




3822                  HEAVEN.
Not a sinner can be converted, but new songs of joy are
heard through the multitude of the heavenly host. The
Scriptures inform us, how constantly the angels are going
forth from heaven as the messengers of God to do his pleasure. As they return they doubtless also communicate the
events which they have beheld on their journey. These
events unfold the goodness and glory of the Supreme Governor, the wisdom of his counsels, the variety of his dispensations, and the increasing happiness and virtue of his
empire.
He will acquire a knowledge of Other Worlds.  That he
will gain this by communication, we have just seen. That
he will also gain it by personal inspection, the Scriptures
place beyond a doubt.  The spirits of Moses and Samuel,
and the glorified body of Elijah, have visited this world,
and are equally able to visit every other part of the Divine
empire.
He will gain a knowledge of truths, or principles. This
will, probably, be true of the principles of natural science.
These, as established, were to be known, that God might be
glorified. Yet many truths relating to the organization of
minerals, the structure and growth of vegetables and animals, particularly the nature and laws of vegetable and
animal life, and the ordinances of heaven, never can be
known by our present limited faculties. But truths relating
to mind, or the laws by which intelligent and moral beings
are governed, will there especially interest the attention.
Of these how little do we now know? On a few plain subjects God has shed a clear and satisfying light. But clouds
and darkness rest on all that lies beyond. When, for example, we attempt to contemplate the introduction of Moral
evil into the Universe, or the Decrees of God, or the freedom of Man, or the transmission of a fallen nature to the




EIEAVEN.                   323
posterity of Adam, or the election of those who are saved,
or the self existence and eternity of God, or the doctrine of
the Trinity, or the manner in which the Holy Spirit renews
and sanctifies the soul, how feeble does the grasp of our
minds appear, how much is there that seems to need a further explanation; how ready are we to wish, that Paul or
some other of the Apostles were present, that we might
state our difficulties and have them solved?  Of all these
truths, those which are immediately connected with the
work of Redemption will be dwelt upon with peculiar
interest, because they especially display the glory of God
to principalities and powers in heavenly places.
He will acquire a knowledge of intelligent beings. With
those who are in heaven, the saints and angels, he will be
present; and will see as he is seen, and know as he is known.
In the vast population of the Universe also, in the endless
variety of their characters and circumstances and of God's
dispensation towards them, he will discover manifestations
of the Divine perfections ever varying and ever new.
Above all things he will gain a knowledge of God.  In
heaven the perfections of Jehovah shine forth with as strong
an effulgence as the eyes of angels can endure.  In contemplating and adoring the All-perfect Mind, they have
been employed since that Mind spoke them into being.
What progress have they not made? What knowledge can
they not communicate?  Where is there such a school of
theology as this?' If an angel from heaven,' says Baxter,' would come down to earth, to tell us all of God that we would
know and might lawfully ask; who would not turn his back
on libraries and universities and learned men, to go and
discourse with such a Teacher? What travel should I
think too far, what expense too great, for one hour's talk
with such a messenger?' This knowledge, 1 add, will grow




3 24=                  HEAVEN.
forever.  They will never, indeed, arrive at that Uncreated
Heaven, whither creatures cannot go, and where the Sacred
Three dwell alone; but they will mount up towards it, and
draw continually nearer and nearer, through eternity.
Heaven is a world of Hacoppiness.
Nothing will there exist either within or without the mind,
to excite uneasiness, or to create pain or sorrow.  The
power of sin over the spirit will be forever destroyed. Not
one impure or unholy thought, or affection, or purpose, will
ever enter within its chambers.  Not one restless. unhallowed, ungratified desire, nor a feeling of remorse, will ever
disturb its repose. Its subjection to the will of God, will
be perfect and unchanging. The government of the universe will be seen to be in the right hands; and all things
throughout the mighty empire will appear to be exactly
right and to be laboring together to display the perfections
of Jehovah and the immortal happiness of his virtuous creatures. The will once so turbulent and restless, will be lost
in the will of God, and will thus be always perfectly satisfied
because the will of God will be always perfectly done. The
uneasiness of faith will subside in vision.  The aspirings of
hope will be quieted by enjoyment.
There will " be no night there," for immortal natures do
not need the refreshings of repose.  Their vigor only grows
by exercise.  Their faculties, instead of decaying, only
strengthen and heighten under the labors of eternity.  Not
one deformed or disgusting object will be seen.  Nothing
that defileth or that worketh abomination, will ever be admitted.  No scenes of distress or sorrow, no example of
the frailties or sins of good men, will be there beheld. The
bodies of the saints will be all glorious without; the minds
of saints and angels will be all glorious within; while the
glorified body of Jesus, invested with an uncreated splendor




HEAVEN.:325
becoming the visible Representative of the Omnipotent
spirit, will be the light, the sun, of the heavenly world.
And if any other objects are there presented to the sight
they are only shadowed forth by the streets of gold, and
the walls of living gems, and the gates of pearl in the
Apocalyptic vision.
In heaven the social affections of the mind will be forever
refreshed and satisfied.  Our Lord tells us that many shall
come from the east, and from the west, from the north and,
from the south, and shall sit down with Abrahamr, Isaac
and Jacob, and all the prophets in the kingdom of God.
There all holy men of past ages are now assembled. There
are Enoch - who walked with God, and Elijah - the chief
of the prophets, who were singled out from the sons of men
and translated that they should not see death. There is
Abraham, who conversed with God, face to face. There is
Moses, who led the church through the wilderness and then
entered the heavenly Canaan.  There the sweet Psalmist
of Israel, who taught the Church on earth to sing the praises
of God and the Lamb; and is now, perhaps, the chief musician of the heavenly choir.  There is Isaiah, rejoicing in
the seed of the virgin and the victories of the Church.
There is the disciple whom Jesus loved, and his companions;
and there is the apostle of the Gentiles, in company with
Stephen, though he consented *to his death. There are
the martyrs of the Church, the faithful evangelists and ministers, and missionaries of the Cross. There, too, are the
Reformers, and all those other distinguished men who have
contended for the faith; and there are all the humble followers of Jesus, whom God has gathered out of every kindred and people and tongue. There, also, the Christian
will find his pious ancestors, whose prayers secured him the
divine blessing; with his pious parents who gave him up to
28:




826                   HEAVEN.
God in infancy, and by prayer, instruction, and holy example, led him in the pathway to heaven. There, too, he
will see that faithful minister, or that devoted Christian,
whom the Holy Ghost employed to bring him to repentance.
Mingled with the Church of the Redeemed, he will see
an innumerable company of angels, pure and holy spirits,
the princes of the Universe, originally made to inhabit the
holy place and to stand in the presence of God. Among
them are Gabriel-tthe harbinger of the Messiah from
heaven, and the multitude of the heavenly host who sung
the song of Bethlehem. All of them are ministering spirits,
and among them he will discover the angel to whom the
ministering to his own salvation was especially entrusted by
God.
In heaven he will dwell in the immediate presence of
Christ, that he may behold his glory. He is the light of
heaven; and in Him, as in a central point, the rays of uncreated light are all collected, and from his face the effulgence shines forth to enlighten, warm, and bless the happy
inhabitants.  This effulgence will transform  saints and angels into the same image, from one degree of likeness to
another, in a never ending progress. He is the medium of
communication between the Omnipresent Jehovah and the
holy inhabitants of heaven. He is the temple in which Jehovah dwells, the only visible manifestation of the Godhead
through the Universe.  In him infinite perfections centre,
and from him they shine forth with a softer radiance. On
his face holy intelligences will forever look, and behold the
glory of God. In knowing Christ, they will know God. lie
calls them his friends and brethren, and will admit them
into the same near and familiar intercourse to which the
twelve were admitted on earth.  Their communion with




HEATEN.                    327
him will be most intimate, resembling that between him
and the Father.  It is the intercourse of love, of a love
that passes knowledge, of a love to which even angels will
in some respects be strangers; for they can never shed the
tears of contrition and repentance, they can never say,
" Thou art worthy, for thou hast redeemed us to God by
thy blood."  There, He will feed his flock like a shepherd,
and lead them in green pastures, and conduct them to living
fountains of water. There Lie will reign over them, only to
bless them; and they shall reign with him forever, and be
partakers in his glory and blessedness.  He himself will
teach them the knowledge of God, and make them new and
unceasing manifestations of his love. As the ages of Eternity roll on, tIe will employ the stores of his own exhaustless bounty to bless them; He will enlarge their faculties
by fresh communications of truth; IIe will sanctify them
wholly, and reveal new glories of the All-perfect Mind in a
progress becoming only more rapid and blissful forever,




MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN,
2  CORINTHIANS  I: 14.
AS YE ALSO HAVE ACKNOWLEDGED US IN PART, THAT WE
ARE YOUR REJOICING, EVEN AS YE ALSO ARE OURS, IN
THE DAY OF THE LORD JESUS.; It has been often asked, Whether in the future world, we
shall remember the events and associations of the present;
Whether we shall hereafter know those, with whom we have
been connected here by friendship or by blood.  Were this
the inquiry of mere curiosity, I should not attempt to answer
it. But it presents a subject of contemplation, on which
the voice of Revelation is far from being silent. It is
prompted, also, by feelings, which I would cherish myself,
and which I respect in others.  It may, at the same time,
furnish strong consolation and powerful motives to christian
faithfulness. I shall proceed accordingly, to present the
subject, as it is exhibited both by Reason and the Scrip.
tures.
While thus proposing to derive aid from Reason, I am
well aware that unassisted Reason can here shed no light;
that on this subject nothing is easier than to pursue the
rovings of fancy, and that our only safety lies in follow.




MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.          329
ing the Word of God.  It has been my earnest wish that
this Word might guide me far from the regions of conjecture, into the plain path of truth and certainty. At the
same time, as every truth in that Word flows from Him
who is pure Reason itself, we are not only assured that every
such truth accords with reason, but are constrained to believe that on all subjects within the grasp of the human
mind, this accordance can be seen and proved; and that it
is, of course, the duty of a preacher of that Word to show
in every case that Reason and Revelation perfectly harmonize.
At the first stage of this inquiry it is fair to ask him,
who takes the Negative, Whence do you derive your opinion? From the Scriptures no passage has been adduced
hitherto, and none, I venture to say, can be adduced, which
either directly or indirectly asserts it, or which declares
any other principle from which it may be fairly inferred.
Do you conclude from the nature of the case, that the
soul loses all or any of its powers, and particularly its memory, at death? Would not the proof of such a loss involve also the proof, that the soul is material and mortal.
Do you learn this principle from the death-bed?  Do the
vivid recollections of the past, and the clear and strong anticipations of the future, which we often witness, both in the
saint and in the sinner, at the moment of death, convince
you that mind which, even amid the agonies of dissolving
nature, is all life, all energy, is destined when those agonies
are past to become inactive and lifeless?
Is your opinion the dictate, even, of Natural Religion?
In what mythology, which regards the soul as immortal, do
you fail to find the events and associations of the present
life intimately connected with the happiness of the future?
In the fabled descent of Orpheus, we see Eurydice recog
28*




330       MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.
nizing her husband, cherishing for him her wonted affection.
and consenting to return with him to their former home.
Do not Pythagoras and the early Brahmins insist that, in
each successive transmigration of the soul, the events of
the preceding states of existence were remembered; and
did he not distinctly declare that he had been ZEthalides,
the son of 1M\ercury, then the hero Euphorbus at the seige
of Troy, then Hermotimus the prophet of Clazomenee. and
afterwards a fisherman, before he became the son of Muesanchus?  Do you not hear Ulysses and 2Eneas in their:
visits to Hades, conversing familiarly with their derarted
friends, as well as with the heroes and sages of earlier times?
Did not the prospect of an admission to their exalted society furnish great consolation to Socrates and Cato, in the
near prospect of death?  Ask the Mohammedan, what
awaits him beyond the river of death; and he will point
you to a paradise of active but licentious joy. Inquire of
the Itindoo widow, what prompts her to fire the pile on
which she is reposing by the corpse of her husband; and
she will answer,'The hope of a happier union, in a world,
where death and separation are unknown.' Inquire, too,
of the dying Indian, why his buffalo-robe and his tomahawk,
his bow and his quiver, must be buried with him  in the
grave; and he will tell you, that he is going to the land
where his fathers are gone, and that in that milder region
he shall need them when engaged in hunting, or in war.
As then neither revelation, nor the nature of the case,
nor any system of mythology, popular or philosophical, lends
any direct support to this opinion, I conclude that it is the
result of mere feeling; and the objections usually alleged
against the opposite opinion, confirm this conclusion. These
we shall consider hereafter. With these preliminary remarks
I shall now procceed to the direct discusssion of the subject.




IMUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.           331
1. The souls of men do not lose their personal identity,
when separated from  the body.  It was a favorite opinion
of the heathen philosophers, and has been avowed by some
who call themselves christians, that the soul is a spark, or
an emanation from the essence of the Deity; and that when
the intervening obstructions presented by the body are, removed, it immediately returns, and is absorbed in its original
Fountain. When meeting with such notions in poetry, we
regard them as mere creations of fancy, and are amused or
delighted; but when we are called on in sober prose to believe in them as revealed truths, or as matters of fact, we
instinctively hesitate, and ask for evidence to support our
faith. In this case all the evidence is contrary.
We are not God, nor a part of God; either when in the
body, or when out of it.  God does not consist of parts, nor
is he susceptible of division or addition. Angels, though
separate spirits, have as absolute a personal identity as
men.  They ar- perfectly distinct from God, and are not a
part of him.  Ie charges them with folly, and they are not
clean in his sight.  Can this be said of himself?  But if
this be true of those pure spirits who never sinned, how
much more emphatically is it true of ourselves, even when
separated from the body.  The angels, also, are perfectly
distinct from each other.  All the representations of Scripture teach us that they are not blended, or united into one
common mass of being, like two portions of air or water
when brought together; but are separate, individual existences, possessing each his distinct consciousness and exhibiting his own personal characteristics.  As such they
have their respective offices, as thrones and dominions,
principalities and powers; and their respective duties, as
messengers and ministering spirits.  As such, God, their
maker, numbereth them  and calleth them  all by their




332       MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN,
names; and as such, they know each other's stations, histories and characters.
To conclude, because we know each other by our faces,
voices and persons, our attitudes and movements, that separate spirits, not having these helps, cannot therefore distinguish one another, is wholly unphilosophical. Two individuals, natives of distant countries and personally strangers,
if mutually and intimately informed of each other's histories,
characters, views, and habits of thinking, may, by conversation merely, mutually discover each other. A  lost child,
after time has changed every trace of that image which was
imprinted on his parent's memories, may, by the recollections of childhood, identify his birth-place and parentage.
The angels, we have seen, do in fact thus distinguish each
other; nor are we left to the mere argument from analogy
with regard to departed spirits.  Several of them  since
their decease have actually revisited this earth.  The spirit
of Samuel came from the unseen world, to announce to
Saul his tremendous doom.  The spirit of Moses was present with Christ and his three disciples, on the mount of
Transfiguration; and was not only seen there by them, but
conversed with Christ in their hearing and in language
which they understood, respecting his decease which he
should accomplish at Jerusalem.  These departed spirits
had as really a separate individual existence and a distinct
personal consciousness, as they had in the present life.
They were not only known as such by God, but actually
made themselves known to men on earth.  Saul knew as
certainly that the spirit of Samuel announced his awful
doom at Endor, as he knew that the living Samuel reproved
him  after the battle with Amalek.  The three disciples
had as clear evidence that it was Moses, the lawgiver of
Israel, who came to the Mount in com,any with Elijah,




MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.            333
as they could have had, if he had reanimated his former
body.
Separate spirits, therefore, possess as distinct a personal
identity as embodied spirits; and if they can establish this
fact to spirits inhabiting material bodies and thus impeded
in all their perceptions by these dull organs of sense, much
more can they do so to one another.
2. Separate spirits have a conscious, active existence,
between death and the resurrection.  On this, as onevery
other subject, the language of the Scriptures is uniform.
Moses and Samuel, we have seen, were living, conscious
spirits after their death.  Christ said to the penitent thief,'' To-day shalt thou be with me in paradise."  It is usually
objected, that "one day is with the Lord as a thousand
years."  True: but it is not so with man; and as Christ
knew that the thief would understand him to promise that,
before the close of the day then passing, he was to be with
Christ in Paradise, we must admit, unless we regard him as
insincere or mistaken, that the separate spirit of the penitent thief was before the close of that day actually with
Christ in Paradise.
In the parable of the rich man and Lazarus, Christ in;
forms us, that Abraham and Lazarus were living, conscious
beings in a state of happiness, and that the rich man was in
a state of misery, while the five brethren of the latter were
still alive on earth.
In his conversation with the Sadducees, Christ teaches
this truth in the direct form.  The Sadducees denied a
future state, as well as the existence of angels and spirits.
To confound Christ on this subject, they put the senseless
ease of the woman who had had seven husbands. To show
them their mistake, Christ appealed to their own Scriptures:




334       MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.
--  But as touching the resurrection of the dead"*- as
our version renders it, (" But as touching the future existence of the dead " - as it ought to be rendered) " have
ye not read that which was spoken unto you by God, I am
the God of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God
of Jacob? - God is not the God of the dead, but of the
living." Some, supposing that Christ advances this passage
as a proof of the resurrection of the body, have charged
him with inconclusive reasoning; and had he done so, I do
not see how the charge could be obviated. What is the
argument, according to our version?  God said to Moses
long after the three patriarchs were dead, " I am the God
of Abraham, and the God of Isaac, and the God of Jacob."
- But God is not the God of the dead, but of the living.
Therefore - What?  Therefore, there will be a resurrection of the body.  How does that follow?  And what possible connection is there between the premises and the conclusion?  Obviously there is none.  The word'AvmcrqoSg,
here erroneously rendered Resurrection, comes from a verb,
signifying to stand tzp again; and denotes either thefuture existence, the standing uplo again, of the soul in another
state of being -or the future existence, the standing up
again, of the body at the Resurrection.  Here, the connexion shows us it means the former; and when so rendered, the argument of Christ is irresistible.  As God is not
the God of the dead, but of the living; and as God was the
God of Abrahamn, of Isaac and of Jacob, in the time of
Moses, after the death of the three patriarchs, therefore
Abraham, Isaac and Jacob, after their deaths were living,
conscious beings; and therefore, still more generally, departed spirits are living,g conscious beings in a separate state of
existence.
* Matthew xxii. 29-33. Mark xii. 21 —27. Luke xx. 34-38.




MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.           335
3. The separate spirits of the righteous are in heaven.
Many who would have disdained the name of Papists, and
have ridiculed the doctrine of a Purgatory, have yet believed that there is a region of happiness in the world of spirits,
distinct from heaven, where the righteous live until the
resurrection. For this opinion, however, I can find no
scriptural warrant.  Christ said to the dying thief, "6 This
day shalt thou be with me in Paradise."  Those who hold
this opinion, imagine that the soul of Christ between his
death and resurrection did not go to heaven, but to this
region of the world of spirits which they call Paradise, in
distinction from heaven; and that thus the promise to the
dying penitent was made good.  What the word, Paradise,
means, it is not difficult to determine, for it is used only in
two other places. Paul tells us, " I knew a man in Christ,
above fourteen years ago, who was caught up into the third
heaven: I knew such an one caught up into Paradise,
where he heard unspeakable words, which it is not lawful for
man to utter." Paradise, then, is the third heaven. But the
third heaven with the Jews is, always, the heaven of heavens:
the atmosphere being the first, and the starry heaven the
second.  Christ says, in Revelations ii, 7,'" To him that
overcometh, will I give to eat of the tree of life, which is
in the midst of the Paradise of God;" and in the 22d chap.
John says, "1 And he showed me a pure river of water of life,
clear as crystal, proceeding out of the throne of God and
of the Lamb.  In the midst of the street of it and on either
side of the river was the tree of life." It will be admitted
that the holy city where the throne of God and the Lamb,
in the midst of which was the river of life upon its banks,
was heaven. Christ, therefore, by the paradise of God in
the midst of which was the tree of life, intended heaven.
Christ's declaration to the thief was, accordingly, an ex



336       MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.
press promise that, before the expiration of the day, he
should be with him in heaven.
That Christ himself went to heaven at his ascension, that
he is now there, and not in some other region of the world
of spirits, will probably be admitted by those who remember
the declaration of Mark, " So then, after the Lord had
spoken unto them he was received up into heaven, and sat
on the right hand of God:"-that of the angels, " This
same Jesus, which is taken up from you into heaven, shall
so come in like manner as ye have seen him go into heaven:"
- and those of Paul, " We have a Great HIlgh Priest, who
has passed into the heavens, Jesus, the Son of God," and
" Christ is not entered into the holy places made with
hands, but into heaven itself, now to appear in the presence
of God for us."  But if this be so, the point in question is
easily decided.  Christ promised all those who believed in
him, that they should be with him after he left the world:
4' In my Father's house are many mansions: I go to prepare a place for you. And if I go, I will come again and
receive you unto myself, that where I am, there ye may be
also." This was the place where his glory was displayed
to them.  " Father! I will that those whom thou hast given
me, be with me where I am, that they may behold my glory!"
From the declarations of Paul, also, we learn that when
the righteous are absent from  the body they are present
with the Lord; and that when they die, they are with
Christ. As then He is in heaven, they are there also.
4. The faculties of the soul are not diminished by its
separation friom the body.  The nature of the case evinces
this.  The state of existence to which the separate spirit is
introduced, is incomparably more noble and exalted than
the present state, and requires faculties proportionally more
noble and exalted. But the wisdom of God is every where




MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN ItEAVEN.            337
displayed in fitting the things which he males for the purposes for which he makes them.  This is true in minerals,
and vegetables, and in all the various tribes of insects and
reptiles, of fishes, birds and beasts.  Especially is it exhibited, in preparing the various orders of intelligent
creatures for the various spheres in which they are to
move.  We see this in infancy and childhood, in youth
and manhood.  We see it also still more strongly marked,
in men and angels.  Had human beings been so, constituted as to possess the full size and strength of manhood at
their birth and gradually to diminish in the vigor of their
faculties and the size of their bodies through childhood,
youth and manhood, until in both they became like new
born infants; or had men, while destined to inhabit these
sluggish bodies and to be confined to the surface of this
material world, been endowed with the power and the
speed of angels; and had angels, though intended as the
messengers of God, the couriers of the starry universe
been created as feeble in their powers and as sluggish in
their movements as men;-neither we, nor they, could
have regarded these arrangements as proofs of creative
Twisdom.  Since then saints, at their death, are raised to
that heaven where angels dwell, to move in their exalted
society, and to share in their elevated pursuits, we are
hence fully assured that their intellectual faculties, instead
of being impaired at the period of their translation, will be
only expanded and ennobled.
This obvious conclusion of reason is fully confirmed by
the Scriptures.  Paul, treating on this very subject, tells
us, 1 Cor. xiii., that " now we know in part; but when
that which is perfect is come," (i. e. when we arrive at
our perfect state in heaven,) then this partial knowledge
shall be done away. To show the difference between the
29




338       -MUTUAL RIECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.
intellectual faculties and the knowledge of the Christian,
in this world, and in heaven, he compares the one to those
of a lisping infant, and the other to those of a full-grown
man. "When I was a child (in the Greek, a lisping infant*) I spake, I reasoned, I thought, like such an infant;
but when I became a man, I put away childish things."' Now," he adds, "we see through a glass darkly, but
then face to face. Now, I know in part; but then shall I
know, even as also I am known."
Our Lord places this subject, if possible, in a still
stronger light.  "They," says he,'"who are thought
worthy to inherit that world, are equal to the angels, and
are the children of God." As the angels are perfectly
holy and happy, saints cannot equal them  in their degree
of holiness or of happiness, unless their intellectual capacity is equal.  But, if the intellectual faculties, generally,
will be thus enlarged and invigorated, why should we suppose that the mnemory, without which permanent progress
in any kind of knowledge is impossible, instead of gaining
a proportional degree of strength and expansion, will only
be enfeebled   W Why must the mind of the saint thus limp
in its intellectual progress; one  of its powers being
crippled, and thus disproportioned to the rest?  No; if he
is equal to the angels in perception and taste, in fancy,
and reason, and judgment, he cannot, he will not, be inferior to them in the power of memory.  The events and
associations of the present life, instead of fading and vanishing from the tablet of memory, will seem  to have been
traced upon it anew; for they will be graven there as with
" the pen of iron, and the point of a diamond."
5: The deep interest felt by the inhabitants of heaven',Trio~.




4MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.           3
in the affairs of this world, forbids the supposition that the
events of the present life will be ever forgotten.  We
clearly gather from  the Scriptures, that, heaven perhaps
excepted, there is no world in the universe, on which God
keeps his eye fixed, with such deep interest, as on this.
"' He created all things by Jesus Christ to the intent that
now unto the principalities and powers in heavenly places
might be known by the Church the manifold wisdom  of
God."  This world then is the theatre, in which the glory.
of God is especially to shine forth to.the hosts of heaven,
and on which the greatest of all his works is to be performed. One great end, for which the angels were made,
was to minister to Christ as the Saviour, and to the heirs
of salvation.  The Son of God left the throne on high,
took on him the nature of Man, and lived and died in this:
world.  As Mediator, he is the immediate Ruler of heaven
and earth, that he may conduct many sons unto glory.
The work of salvation is the great object of attention in
heaven. It is so to Christ.  Not a sinner is converted,
however humble, weak or polluted, but the good Shepherd
says to his fi;ends, 1' Rejoice with me, for I have found my
sheep that was lost."  It is so to the angels.  "Likewise
I say unto you, There is joy in the presence of the angels
of God over one sinner that repenteth."  It is so to the
saints in heaven. 6 There is more joy in heaven over one
sinner that repenteth, than over ninety and nine just persons who need no repentance." Christ is deeply interested
in them.  "' He is head over all things unto the Church."
lie knows them all.  " My sheep hear my voice; and I
know them; and they follow me; and they shall never
perish; neither shall any one pluck them out of my hand."
Saints and angels know them, because they have rejoiced
over their conversion. The angels are deeply interested




340        MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.
in them, because, as ministering spirits, they have minis$
tered to their salvation. The saints feel an equal interest~
6W Wherefore,"' says Paul, "' being compassed about by so
great a cloud of witnesses, let us run with patience the
race that is set before us."  The witnesses here referred
to are all those, who died in faith, from  tile beginning of
the world.  Like the crowd of spectators, Ywho witnessed
the races at the Olympic games, he represents this triumphant assembly as looking cown, and surveying the race
which the Christian is running  on earth.
This deep interest, felt by heaven in the church on
earth, is felt in every age of the church, and in degrees
proportioned  to its numbers and prosperity.  But do.
Christ, ancl angels, and saints feel this intense interest in
every Christian, while he is here; and yet lose it all, and
immediately forget MIim, when hle dies and goes whiere they
are? IDo all heaven exult in the conversion of a sinner;
and yet not know him, when he comes arrayed in spiritual
beauty, to meet a cordial welcome in his Father's house t
Do the assembly of the blessed look dolwn upon him from
the battlements of heaven, as he runs the Christian race 
and yet forget him, the moment he has gained the victory,
and comes to receive his crown?
This knowledge of the character and conduct of Christians on earth, possessed in heaven, is exceedingly minute
and exact.  Christ of course knows them perfectly.  The
means of knowledge which the angels possess are very
abundant.  If they are sent forth to minister to the heirs
of salvation, to watch over their welfare, to succor themn
in temptations, and to guide them  to heaven, they must
watch their conduct, must see the efiect of the temptations
which they meet, and must know many of their sins; and
with such experience, discernment anrd opportunities as




MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.          341
they enjoy, must thoroughly understand their characters.
If also the fact, that the saints in heaven are witnesses of
the race run by the Christian on earth, is urged as a powerful reason why he should exert himself to gain the prize;
their opportunities of understanding his character, and of
knowing his sins, are far greater than is generally supposed.
But do they gain tllis knowledge, merely to lose it?
Are the memories of saints and angels thus treacherous
after death?  Or have they both the power of remembering what they please, and from an accommodating good
nature do they agree to forget the sins of Christians on
earth?
Many of the sins of good men have been very heinous,
and are on record in the Scriptures.  God has taken care
that some of the sins of Noah, of Abraham, Isaac and
Jacob, of Moses and Aaron, of Sampson and Eli, that of
David in the case of Uriah, those of Solomon, Hezekiah
and Manasseh, the denial of Christ by Peter, the persecutions and murders of Saul of Tarsus, should be recorded
by the pen of inspiration, and read by the whole body of
the Church. Cannot the angels, too, read the Bible, and,
if need be, refresh their memories; and do not the saints
in heaven know what is in the Bible?  Did God then wish
these and similar events not to be known or remembered,
when he thus published them to the innumerable millions
of the past; and when he took effectual care to place them
on the imperishable leaves of that volume, which is to be
the daily manual of the church throughout Millennial
ages?
6. A distinct knowledge of the events and associations
of the present life will be indispensable to a state of retribution.  Reason and Revelation lend their united attesta29*




342       MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEX.tion to this truth.  Events and actions are important, not
usually in themselves, but in their consequences.  Adam's
eating the forbidden fruit was in itself an event of no more
consequence than my eating an apple; but in the train of
consequences which it drew after it, it was important, if we
except the death of Christ, (which, indeed, was one of
those consequences,) beyond all the other events united
which have occurred in this world from its creation to the
present moment.  In this view, the conduct of every man,
and the events which occur to him in this world, are of
infinitely more importance to him than those of the world
to come.  This is his time of trial; and of the scenes in
which he mingles, of the associations which he thus forms,
and of the transactions in which he engages, he will feel
the direct consequences throughout the progress of duration.  In every day and hour of eternity, the dispensations of God to him will remind him of his conduct in the
present life. He will be rewarded according to his worlks.
If a lost sinner, " he will eat of the fruit of his own ways,
and be filled with his own devices." If a redeemed penitent, the measure and kind of his reward will bring his
whole life, on earth continually into view-the measure of
holiness which he gained, and the sins which were forgiven.
The account given us of the Day of Judgment, permits
us not to doubt here.  That day is "s the day of the Revelation of the righteous judgment of God."  It is the day,
which is to disclose all the events and associations of time,
and to prepare H-eaven, Earth and Hell, for the retributions of a coming eternity.  God will then bring every
work into judgment, with every secret thing, whether it be
good or whether it be evil."  Every thought, affection,
motive and purpose, every word and action of life, with all




MIUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.           334
their various circumstances, will be therefore revealed.
As God will on that day cause the intelligent universe to
see, that all his dispensations in time, and all his judgments
in eternity, are righteous; it follows that all the relations
which we sustain in life, all our various sublunary associations and connections, must be then distinctly remembered
and reviewed.  But if these are remembered, so, necessarily, will the individuals be remembered, to whom we sustained  these  relations.  The remembrance of the one
necessarily implies that of the other.  When parents give
an account of their conduct towards their children, husbands and wives an account of theirs towards one another,
children towards their parents, magistrates and ministers
towards their people, and their people towards them, partners, friends, associates, neighbors  and companions in
iniquity towards one another; it is obviously impossible
that they should do this, and not remember the several
individuals, with whom  they have been thus connected,
over whom they have thus exerted a powerful influence,
and whom they have thus helped to fix forever either in
heaven or in hell.  But it is precisely as important that
the justice of God towards his creatures should be seen
and felt in every coming day of Eternity, as at the Day of
Judgment.
Lost sinners, while they endure the punishment of eternity, must know the conduct and the events of the present
life, in their own case, if they are to understand the justice, and see the appropriateness, of the punishment which
they suffer; and they must possess a similar knowledge in
the case of others, if they are to see the propriety of their
punishment.  But if they will remember their sins, and
the events of which they were spectators here, they must
and will of course also remember the persons, with whom




344        MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.
they were here associated.  All their sins, except those of
the heart, all their visible conduct of omission and of commission, their life of worldliness and irnpenitence, and their
rejection of the offers of grace, have been exhibited in the
view of thousands; and have had a most pernicious influence, not only on their own children and posterity, but on
their friends and neighbors and their posterity, through
succeeding generations. In many of these sins also, they
have had associates and partners in iniquity. They cannot
look back upon these events in the abstract.  Each act of
sin is indissolubly connected with the time, the place, the
circurmstances and persons; and the recollection of the
sin, in every case, must and will involve the recollection of
the manner of its commission, and of the persons who were
partners in it, or who were corrupted or injured by it.
In the same manner, the righteous will remember, not
only their own conversion to God, and their own exercises
of love, and acts of obedience, but those of others also;
that they may understand the  appropriateness of the
reward bestowed on each.  But the remembrance of these,
in every case, will necessarily involve a distinct and perfect
recollection of all the persons, with whom they have been
associated in the present life, and the influence for good or
for evil which they have actually exerted.
This remembrance is absolutely essential to their character and circumstances, as redeemed sinners in heaven.  If
humility and gratitude are to be in full exercise there, they
must look back on the rock whence they were hewn, and
on the hole of the pit whence they were digged; they must
remember the number, greatness and aggravations, of their
sins, and be conscious of their deep depravity, if they are
adequately to glorify the mercy of the Father, or the love
of Christ, or the grace of the Spirit, in their salvation.




MUTUAL RECOOGNITION IN HEAVEN.           345
They must remember and know the individuals, to whom,
under God, they are indebted for eternal life:-their pious
parents, who faithfully governed and instructed them, and
set them a holy example, and prayed and wrestled for them
with many tears-; the faithful minister, who was perhaps
the means of their conversion; the pious members of the
church, who walked with them in the way to heaven; and
the angel, to whom as a ministering spirit they were entrusted, in their progress through a wilderness of temptations and dangers: —if they are adequately to feel and
express the gratitude, which they owe them  for their
earnest and successful efforts in guiding them to eternal
life. These events are the most important, which will
occur to them in all the progress of their being; because
they were the foundation, on which were built their everlasting life, and holiness and joy. Not a dclay, not an hour,
will occur in the long year of eternity, which will not, by
tihe power of association, bring up to distinct view the
events, the persons and the connections, of the present
life.  Will Abraham forget leaving his country at the call
of God, or the sacrifice of Isaac?  Will Moses forget that
he was the leader of the Church through the wilderness,
or his sin at the waters of Meribah which excluded him
from  the earthly Canaan; or Joshua, that, instead of
iMoses, he led them into the promised land?  Can Enoch
and Elijah be ever unconscious that they were translated,
that they should not see death?  Does David forget that
he wrote those Psalms, which convey the praises of the
church to heaven; or that he wrote the 51st Psalm, after
Nathan had reproved him for his dreadful guilt in the
affair of Uriah?  Has Isaiah forgotten his distant visions
of that latter day glory, which is now brightening on his
view in the heavenly world?  Does the blessed Yirgin




3006      MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.
forget that she was the mother of the Saviour of the world;
or that Gabriel came, as a harbinger, to announce his
birth? Do the Eleven forget that they were the bosom
friends of Jesus on earth; or Paul, that his labors and his
writings have been the means of salvation to millions which
cannot be numbered?
On this portion of the subject the Scriptures are also
explicit.  John informs us, that he saw'" under the altar
the souls of them  that were slain for the testimony of
Jesus.  And they cried with a loud voice,' IHlow long, O
Lord, holy and true, dost thou not judge and avenge our
blood on them  that dwell on the earth;' and it was said
unto them that they should wait for a little season until
their fellow-servants and their brethren, that should be
killed as they were, should be fulfilled." Here, the saints
in heaven were remembering the events and the associations of the present life, as well as carefully observing the
providlenee of God towards those who followed them.  In
Rev. i. 10, also, John informs us that he heard the whole
assembly of the first born join in the ascription,'G Unto
him that loved us, and washed us from our sins in his own
blood;" and on a subsequent occasion, they exclaimed,'" Thou art worthy; for thou hast redeemed us to God by
thy blood, out of every kindred, and people, and nation,
and tongue.'   Their sins on earth, therefore, had not
faded from their memories; nor the countries, and nations,
and families, to which they belonged.
7. This truth is taught, directly and explicitly, in the
Scriptures. In proof of this, I allege the text, As ye have
acknowledged us in part that we are your rejoicing even as
ye also are ours in the day of the Lord Jesus;" and the
parallel passage, 1 Thess. ii. 19, 20, "' What is'our hope,
our joy, our crown of rejoicing.  Are not even ye in the




MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN 1HEAVEN.          347
presence of the Lord Jesus at his coming. Doubtless we
are your rejoicing even as ye also are ours."  Paul had
begotten these Christians in Christ Jesus through the Gospel.  He here declares that in the day of judgment they
will not only be raised up together, and will know each
other in this most endearing relation, but will be a mutual
joy and rejoicing to each other in Eternity.  He will rejoice in them as his spiritual children, and they in him as
their spiritual father.
He tells the Hebrew Christians, " Obey them that have
the rule over you, for they watch for your souls as they
that must give account, that they may do it with joy and
not with grief." This is a plain declaration, that in the
day of judlgment, ministers will know their hearers,-those
who have not become Christians, as well as those who
have.
Christ informs us, Matth. viii. 11,"1 vMany shall come
from the east and the west, from the north and the south,
and shall sit down with Abraham and Isaac and Jacob in
the kingdom of God;" and in the corresponding passage
in Luke, Luke xiii. 28, "' There shall be weeping and
gnashing of teeth, when ye shall see Abraham, and Isaac,
and Jacob, and all the prophets, in the kingdom  of God,
and you yourselves thrust out; and there are last which
shall be first, and there are first which shall be last."  The
assertion that they shall see these patriarchs and prophets
in the kingdom  of God implies that they shall know
them,-otherwise, it can be no motive to labour for the
attainment of heaven; and the fact that intense suffering
will be then endured by many from the great reverse then
experienced in their relative condition, evinces that not
only individuals, but their former circumstances in this
world, will be distinctly known and remembered.




348       MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HIEAVEN.
Paul consoles the Thessalonian Christians who were
mourning their deceased friends, with the reflection that
they will see them again in the day of the Lord Jesus;
and that they and their beloved friends will be ever with
the Lord, or live together forever in his presence. This
plainly implies that, in the future world, they would know
their departed friends and rejoice with them; and it is,
indeed, an effectual ground of support and consolation.
Many other passages, did the time permit, might be
adduced in support of this position.  I hasten to notice
three Objections, which are usually brought against the
principle of this Discourse.
It is said, that the recollection of our own sins will
diminish the happiness of heaven.  Contrition and Penitence, I reply, are not painful but delightful emotions. The
Christian on earth is never more satisfied with the state of
his own heart, than when the tears of godly sorrow are flowing from his eyes.  The saints will be forever conscious
that they have been welcomed into heaven, only as redeemed sinners; and when they bless the Lamb because
he has washed them fiom their sins in his own blood, I may
safely appeal to any Christian —Will this be ever a painful
ascription of blessing and praise?
It is said also, that the recollection of the sins of others
will diminish our esteem and affection for them.  Our estimate of those who dwell in heaven, I reply again, will be
regulated according to truth, taking in their whole existence.  We may estimate the past character of an individual, as very different from his present character; and the
one does not interfere with the other.  We may wholly condemn his past conduct in given instances; and yet wholly
approve his present character.  The sin of David in the
matter of Uriah was almost unparalleled in its enormity;




MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.            849
yet his present character deserves and commands perfect
esteem and love.  Stephen will not love Paul the less as a
holy being, although the apostle once consented to his own
death. Had this not been the case, an imperishable record
would not have been made of the failings and Silns of some
of the most distinguished saints in heaven.
It is also said that it will lessen the happiness of heaven,
to remember such of our friends as have been denied admission to its bliss. This objection may imply not merely,
that our personal friends have failed of salvation; but that
they have failed of salvation, in consequence of our unfaithfulness.  In this sense, I answer, it is well founded.
The happiness of every individual in heaven will be "' according to his works."  Those who have been eminently
faithful in the discharge of every duty here, will have a
very high capacity both for holiness and happiness there 
those who have exhibited inferior faithfulness will have
an inferior capacity; and those who are saved, yet " so as
by fire," will find the measure of their own capacity wonderfully less.  The first class will " shine forth as the sun
in the kingdom of their Father;" the second will " shine
as the stars forever and ever;" and the third will only
shine' as the brightness of the firmament."  It is true,
that every saint in heaven who has manifested great unfaithfulness in seeking the salvation of his own relations,
or in the performance of any other duty, will be an everlasting loser by such unfaithfulness. In every age and in
every moment of eternity, his capacity —both for holiness
and happiness-will be greatly inferior to what it would
have been, had he been in the full sense a faithful servant.
Each will possess his own appropriate measure of holiness
and happiness; yet the various measures, though differing
thus widely, will be all absolutely full. This fact, however,
30




350       MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.
is no objection to the:principle for which we contend. It
is only a necessary consequence of the great rule of righteousness, that the saints shall be rewarded according to their
works.
This objection may refer, however, to the simple fact,
that our impenitent friends have failed of salvation.  As
thus understood, I answer, that the predominant and only
feeling of heaven is, "6 Whom have I in heaven but thee,
and there is none on the earth whom I desire beside thee.
Let God be glorified, and I am happy forever 1"  Moral
character, holiness, is there the only foundation of love.
Its inhabitants love those whom  God loves and hate that
which he hates. None will be banished from heaven to the
world of despair but the irreconcilable enemies of God, the
unbelieving, and polluted, and abominable,-those who
have proved themselves to be the fit companions of the
devil and his angels-those whom no means and no motives,
no warnings, no terrors, and no manifestations of love,
could recover from the character of hopeless sin and obduracy. Viewing them as possessed of this character, the
mind of the saint will say, "6 The will of the Lord be
done!"  Isaac will say this in the case of Esau, Eli in
that of Hophni, and Phineas and D)avid in that of Absalom. Why they were not "'gathered," will be known;
and it will be seen and felt to be right.  To have " gathered" them, possessing their present character, it will be
distinctly seen, would have tarnished the glory of Jehovah
and interrupted the peace and joy of the heavenly world.
Extended as has been this exhibition of the subject, I
must be indulged for a moment in several REFLECTIONS.
Need I say, then, that we have here presented a delightful theme of contemplation to the dying Christian? He is
going away from a world of sin and sorrow, but he is not




MUTUAL" RECOGNITION -IN HEAVEN.         351
going to a land of strangers.  At his second'birth he was
born from above, the land to which he is going is his native
country, there is his Father's house.  There his best
friends and kindred dwell.  There are his pious ancestors,
whose prayers called down blessings on his head.  There
are his pious parents, who became, perhaps, the means of
his immediate conversion. There are many of the wise
and good, who have been his fellow-travellers in the upward
path.  There is the angel, who ministered to him as an
heir of salvation; and there is that vast assembly of saints
who felt new joy over his repentance, who watched all his
progress to the shores of death, and who are ready to welcome him as a brother among many brethren. Who would
not go to such a world? With such a prospect before him,
who would not say:
a Filt'd with delight, my raptured soul
Can here no longer stay."
We have here also, abundant consolation in the death of
pious relatives and friends.  Their works on earth are
ended, and do follow them.  In God's time, in the best
time, they have been removed to the heavenly Jerusalem,
to an innumerable company: of angels, and to the assembly
of the first horn; and to Jesus the mediator of the new
covenant; and to God the Judge, of all.  Who would wish
them back?  They are gone' from  us, but they have not
forgotten us.  If we are the children of God, they are
gone as our forerunners-; they are:among the great cloud
of witnesses, who watch our progress, and are already preparing to- welcome our arrival.  They still remember -their
labors of -love towards us, and are expecting soon' to unite
with us in their nobler worship and enjoyments.
I need not add, How solemn is our condition in this




352        MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.
world.  When we say that the present is a state of trial,
and the future a state of retribution, we have told but one
half of the story. God intends that every intelligent being
in the world of spirits, whether he is welcomed to the great
palace or is shut up in the eternal prison, shall know that
his allotment is strictly just, that he is rewarded exactly
according to his works.  In every passing hour of eternity,
as we look-around us and within us, we shall be conscious,
why our allotment is what it is; and shall distinctly know,
that the harvest which we are reaping is the legitimate
produce of the seed which we have sown.  The deeds,
which we now do, are not done in vain, are not destined to
be forgotten.  Each moment are they distinctly written
down by two very different writers, in two very different
books; —by God, in the book of his remembrance; and by
the man himself, however unconscious he may be of the
fact, in the book of his own memory.  The record, written
by the man himself, is as true, as full, as perfect, as that
written by God:-nay, to be still more exact, it is written
down in the very saame words.  It is a record wonderfully
comprehensive, comprising every work and every secret
thing.  In writing it, we are all of us most diligently employed.  Wherever we may be, and however engaged,
whether busy or idle, by day or by night, at home or
abroad, in a crowd or in solitude, each one of us is always
occupied in writing out a full and perfect history of himself-an auto-biography of his own soul, in which there is
not one omission or one mistake.  At death, the work is finished; and when the soul-the living manf —forsakes the
body, leaving all things else behind him, he carries this imperishable volume in his hand to the judgment-seat of Christ;
There, as the Judge, from the book that is open before
him, reads off the story of his life, the man perceives that




MUTUAL RECOGNITION IN HEAVEN.           353
the two records exactly correspond; and when he departs,
to enter on his destiny of bliss or woe, he carries with him
this little volume as his inseparable companion, to tell him
every moment of eternity why he has received his allotment in heaven or in hell.
30.




ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.
THE shores of the Archipelago, during the last three
years, have presented a most interesting spectacle to the
contemplation of the civilized world. A  nation once preeminent in moral greatness, but for centuries subjected to
a tyranny more oppressive than this world ever saw, in the
commencement of 1821, revolted from  the Turkish government, and on the 30th of March declared to mankind
that they were free and independent. The pledge then
given, they have since labored to redeem, in the face of
Europe and the world. Solemnly appealing to God for
the justice of their cause, while they have made known to
Christian nations their wrongs on the one hand, and their
comparative weakness on the other, they have invited
them, by all that is illustrious in their past history, by all
that man holds dear, or regards as sacred, to aid them in
this decisive struggle for liberty and for life.
When this call first echoed from the shores of the Peloponnesus, we might well have expected to see the nations
of Christendom hurrying, with a noble emulation, to deliver
the suffering Greeks, and to drive back their oppressors
beyond the shores of the Caspian. As Christians, as men,
we may well wish that this expectation had been realized.
But the events of the past three years are now recorded




ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.-    355'
by the pen of history; and the descendants of the present
generation will blush for the cold, unfeeling selfishness of
their sires, when they learn, that the surrounding nations,
with a strength sufficient in a single week to have levelled
the throne of the Sultan in the dust, could stand coolly by,
and, during three years of toil and agony, could see their
brethren, alone and single handed, maintain the dreadful
conflict.
The Committee, to whose care the national contributions
for the Greeks are entrusted, have publicly requested the
clergy of our country to address their congregations in
behalf of this injured people. Who can doubt the propriety of this request?  Were the case of the Greeks our
own; were our country thus oppressed, invaded and desolated by a cruel and blood-thirsty enemy; would it not be
demanded of every minister of Christ, that he should raise
his voice in behalf of his suffering countrymen? And is
the great rule of Christian benevolence-" Thou shalt love
thy neighbor as thyself "-to have no influence here?  Is
it mere political declamation to plead the cause of suffering millions, to tell you of their wrongs, and to ask you as
individuals to feel for them, and to help them.  Shall the
clergy of Switzerland and Germany urge the claims of the
Greeks on the sympathies of their countrymen; and shall
the clergy of America be silent?
On the present occasion, without assuming the garb of
the politician, or usurping the chair of the legislator, we
may take that view of the Revolution in Greece, which, as
freemen and as Christians, we ought to take; we may examine its immediate bearing on the cause of Liberty and
the welfare of Religion; and thus may learn what feelings
we ought to cherish, what conduct we ought to pursue.




856      ADDRESS ON TIE GREEK REVOLUTION.
In endeavoring to exhibit such a view of this Revolution,
the following arrangement of topics will be pursued:It has broken out in an interesting country:
That country is inhabited by an interesting people:
Many things indicate their ultimate success:
The struggle is an eventful one:
What is our own duty?
T.HIS REVOLUTION HAS BROKEN OUT IN AN INTERESTING
COUNTRY.
Greece, including the whole of Epirus and Macedonia,
has a length of 500 miles by an average breadth of 150;
exclusive of its numerous islands, and its ancient colonies
on the eastern coast of the Archipelago. Lying between
the 36th and 43d degrees of latitude,' almost surrounded
by the sea, and every where intersected by ranges of
mountains, it enjoys a climate unrivalled for its pleasantness and salubrity, favorable to the culture of the best- productions of the soil, and to the most vigorous growth of
the body and the mind of man.  The clearness of its sky,
and the delightful temperature of its seasons have ever
been the admiration of the traveller; while the uncommon
longevity of its inhabitants has shown their auspicious influence on human life.
It is a land of hills, and vallies, and brooks of water;
exhibiting, in its native scenery, all the varieties both of
beauty and of grandeur.  Its soil is distinguished for its
fertility; and its productions for their variety and excellence.  While its vallies yield the finest fruits of tropical
climates, all the choice harvests of the temperate zone
D'Ativille.




ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.          357
wave in the richest luxuriance on its plains and its highlands.
Few countries in the world have the same advantages
for security and defence.  On the northern frontier, ranges
of lofty mountains separate it from Thrace and Dalmatia.
The eastern, southern, and western are guarded by the
best of all bulwarks-the ocean.  The numerous ridges of
mountains, intersecting the interior, with their steep fastnesses and abrupt defiles, form a succession of impregnable
ramparts.  These, terminating in bluffs and high grounds
on the shore, are the sites of numerous fortifications, which
line the extensive sea-coast.
Greece has no rival on the Mediterranean in her advantages for navigation and commerce.  Her many islands
render her the mistress of the Archipelago and the Levant.
Her continental territories, embosomed in the sea, and
every where penetrated by gulfs and bays, are a mere
collection of larger and smaller peninsulas. These numerous and deep indentations supply the want of navigable
rivers, and bring the waters of the ocean within a moderate
distance friom every village, and from every dwelling.
The seas which encircle Greece, while they give her an
easy access to the productions of the surrounding countries,
furnish her a near and unfailing market for her own. On
the north-east, the extensive and rapidly increasing cormmerce of the Black Sea comes, through the Hellespont, to
her door. Her ancient colonies, the rich countries of Asia
Minor, are an integral part of her territory.  With Syria
and Egypt she is in immediate contact.  Through the Red
Sea she opens on Arabia and Persia, on India and China.
The Barbary States and Italy are merely her frontiers;
and more remote are the markets of western Europe and
America.




358      ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.
The whole country is classic ground. As the birth-place
of freedom, as the early and favorite habitation of genius,
of eloquence and of fancy, as the theatre where the arts
attained their highest perfection, Greece is a consecrated
soil; endeared above every other to the artist, the scholar,
and the patriot. Her vallies and mountains, her plains and
rivers, her towns and villages have all been celebrated in
story, and immortalized in song.  The relics of her past
glory are still majestic amid the solitude of time. The
traveller, gazing at her broken columns and her falling temples, while he dwells with admiration on the beauty and
grandeur of their perfect state, and remembers that the
united world has toiled more than two thousand years in
vain to furnish rivals to Phidias and Praxiteles; gives up
the hope of finding them, until Greece is once more the
dwelling-place of freedom, and the nursery of the arts.
In the present state of the continent of Europe, with
the doctrine of legitimacy and the divine right of kings
supported by three millions of bayonets, Greece is the
only spot of ground where freedom, during the present
generation, can find rest for the sole of her foot.
Greece borders on Turkey, hitherto the bulwark of the
Mohammedan religion.  It approximates, also, to the Barn
bary States, to Egypt and Arabia,:and-is not remote from
Persia: the only considerable countries where that religion
now prevails.
The religious associations of Greece render her peculiarly interesting to the Christian.  Taken in her most extensive limits, she was the seat of the seven churches of Asia,
of the churches of Galatia, Pontus, Cappadocia, and Bithynia, of Colosse and Thessalonica, of Philippi and Corinth.
She is the seat of the primitive Greek church, and is immediately connected with the other great branch of that




ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.           359
church in Russia. She is also in the near neigborhood of the
churches of Armenia and Syria, and of the Coptic church in
Egypt; and is not remote froml the church of Abyssinia, and
the still existing but newly discovered church of Chaldea.'
At the same time, four-fifths of all the JEws, hitherto known,
surround the seas, whose waters are commanded by the
Archipelao.  A  few miles from  these waters, also, lies
JERUSALEM, the common mother of Jews and Christians,
and destined ere long to unite them both into one church,
and, by their combined efforts, to gather in " the fulness of
the Gentiles."
Thus Greece is a country eminently interesting in itself,
in its productions, in its commercial advantages, in the
relies of its former glory, and in its political and religious associations.
THIS LAND  IS INHABITED BY AN INTERESTING PEOPLE.
They are interesting from their Descent.  So extensive
and powerful has been the influence exerted by Greece, so
exclusively have the efforts of her genius and taste been
selected by other nations as their models, so numerous are
the trophies every where raised to her superiority; that he,
who would escape from them, must go out of the precincts
of the civilized world.  The sculptor cannot take up his
chisel, nor the architect his square; the painter cannot
hold his palette nor the musician strike his lyre; but he
remembers who founded that school of the arts, in which
he was instructed.  The mathematician still submits hi-mself to Euclid as his master and his guide.  The rhetorician boasts that he is the. pupil of Aristotle and Longinus.
-See Appendix to XIX. Report of British and Foreign Bible Society,
pp. 101-103.




360      ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.
The orator keeps the image of Demosthenes always before
his eye.  The highest aim of the statesman is to emulate
the wisdom  of Solon and Lycurgus.  The poet ever
wanders in thought among the groves of Parnassus, and
drinks of the Castalian fount-if haply thereby lie may
catch the inspiration of Homer and of Pindar.  The warrior, fighting for his country, hopes that an ever-verdant
wreath of glory may encircle his brow, entwined from the
laurel of Leonidas. The patriot as he looks around him,
and reflects with conscious dignity that he is free, remembers with heart-felt gratitude, that Freedom  first uttered
her voice in the councils of Athens and Sparta.-Go
where we may; see what we may; retrace what period we
may since the downfall of Greece; we cannot forget the
influence which she has thus exerted in humanizing the
manners, in kindling the genius, in refining the taste, or in
elevating the pursuits of man; nor shut our eyes on the
voluntary and universal homage thus paid to her greatness
and her glory.
In tracing the descent of the modern Greelks, we cannot
fail to remember that the great body of the church of
Christ, in the days of the Apostles, were  Grecians.
Among these, were Luke and Timothy, arnd many of the
friends and companions of Paul.  Stephen and Polyearp,
and many of the early martyrs, as well as most of the distinguished fathers of the church, were Greeks.  Greece,
including Asia Minor, was the first Christian country.  In
the language of Greece, the New Testament was written.
It was at Constantinople, then the very heart of the Grecian world, that Constantine the Great established Christianity as the religion of the Roman empire. The Greeks
were then, and for centuries afterwards, the proprietors of
the vast territories of Europe and Asia, now subjected to




ADDRESS ON THE GREEI  REVOLUTION.         I61
the Grand Seignor. They fought the battles of the Church
against the Saracens, against Mohammed, against the
Caliphs and the Turks.  Nor was it until the year 1453,
that their empire was destroyed, in the capture of Constantinople by Mohammed the great.
They are interesting from their Sufferings.  Since the
period of that capture, or for the space of nearly 400
years, they have been abandoned, by the common consent
of Europe, a prey to Turkish domination; and subjected
to a slavery, which, in all the odious features of brutality
and cruelty, of rapacity and pollution, lacks a parallel in
the annals of this world. Since that time, wherever they
have lived, whatever character they have sustained, they
have been compelled to feel, from day to day, that every
Turk whom they met was a master, and every Greek a
slave. The Sultan, and under him the Pasha, and under
him the Bey, and under him the Aga, was avowedly the
proprietor of all their estates, and the disposer of their
lives. Their wives, their daughters, were never secure
from violence.  Life always hung in doubt before them.
Property could be safe, only as it was concealed.
" The fruits of toil were labell'd on the door;
The pride of wealth, the gleanings of the poor."
To the Greek, no house has been a sanctuary; no temple a refuge. Wherever he has cast his eyes, he has seen
the crescent frowning on the churches of the living God,
the Bible supplanted by the Koran, and the ministers of
Jesus driven out to make room for the imams of Mohammed.
They are interesting from their attachment to their Religion. Notwithstanding the oppression under which they
have groaned; notwithstanding the threats and the bribes
31




362.    ADDRESS ON- THE GREEK REVOLUTION.
held out by the proselyting spirit of the Mohammedans;
they have, as a people, adhered to their open profession of
the Christian faith; and regularly maintained their clergy
and the worship of God.  It may be. said that their Christianity is deformed by many corruptions, and concealed
under a mass of useless ceremonies.  I admit. the fact.
Yet, look at the Christianity of western Europe-of England as. truly as-the rest-in 1453, the tara of the capture
of Constantinople:; or-look at the Christianity. of southern
Europe at. this moment; and you will see it altogether
more corrupted, and more absolutely concealed under the
enormous mass of ceremonies -which envelop it.  Since the
period of their captivity, they have neither felt the motives,
nor possessed the means,.of reforming their religion.
- They are interesting for their commercial enterprise.
The commerce of the Greeks is an anomaly in the history
of nations. Elsewhere, commerce has flourished either
when left to itself, or when encouraged by the fostering
hand of government.  In Greece, it has flourished in spite
of opposition and rapacity.  Those who engage in it are
pillaged by the Turkish governors, are defrauded with
impunity by the Turkish merchants, and exposed by their
very success to the loss of liberty, property and life.  Yet
thus pillaged, thus defrauded, they have extended it, with
unbending resolution and increasing activity, until it covers
all the shores and harbors of the Mediterranean.  According to a statistical table published in 1813,,we.find them,
eight years previous. to the revolution, possessed of 615
merchant vessels, armed with 5,878 cannon, and manned
by 17,526 seamen. Since its commencement, the number of vessels has rapidly increased, for the.small island of
Iydra alone now possesses upwards of;.00. The beauty
and swiftness of their vessels. evince. their skill in naval




ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.    386&
architecture; while their seamen are -celebrated through
the Mediterranean for the dexterity with which they manage their ships.' - It is owing to these; causes, that, for a
series of years, they have been the common carriers of the
surrounding world, and have engrossed in their own hands
almost all its local commerce.  To mention a single example: of their- enterprise-In -the late convulsions of Europe,
many of the HIydriote merchants acquired, large fortunes,
by carrying corn from Odessa, on the Black Sea, for the
supply of the armies in Spain; and many of them  now
trade as far as the West Indies.  In addition to this,t the
Greeks have carried several important -branchesof manufactures to a perfection unknown in Western Europe.
They are interesting from  their love of- Literature.
Schools, which are accessible to all classes, are extensively
established throughout the country; and -the great body of
the people, as we learn from our own missionaries as well
as other:travellers, can read and write.: Where there are
no schools, the mothers: instruct their children,: The college: at Haivali, founded in 1803,: had 200 students, and a
competent:number of professors, supported by the liberality of the citizens.- That at Scio, founded:ten years earlier, and supported  by the:merchants, had, -immediately
before its destruction- from 700 to; 800 studentship 20 professors, chiefly educated- in Europe, an. atheneum, and- a
library of 10,000 volumes.~ - The- course of -instruction in
literature and the -sciences: was rapidly approximating to
the European standard of perfection.  Beside these,: public schools of a respectable character were found at Yanirna,
$ North American Review, and Blaquiere's- Report to the Greek Conmmittee of London.
t Jowelt's Christian Researches.:t Missionary Herald, April, 1821, p. 103.
4 North American Review.




364      ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.
at Athos, at Athens and at Patmos.  More than 500 of
the finest young men of Greece regularly received a still
higher education at the universities of western Europe.*
Several printing-presses have been established, several
newspapers circulated; and information is regularly communicated in them of the latest discoveries in science and
the arts, and of the benevolent efforts which characterize
the present age.  Many of the classics of ancient Greece
they have republished; many of the best writers of England, France and Italy, they have translated into the modern Greek. This has been done chiefly at the expense of
wealthy individuals, from national pride, from patriotism,
and the love of letters.  Allow mle to add here, what, in
a single word, will give you an adequate impression of this
subject; and what, as an inhabitant of this peninsula, I
can add with honest exultation; that while reading the
account given by Jowett of the munificent patronage extended by the Greek merchants to learning and the arts;
I easily forgot that the traveller was at Scio, and thought
for a moment that he was in the metropolis of New England.  Let it be remembered that this ardor was felt, that
these efforts were made, when the rod of the oppressor was
unbroken; and when none but a faint and distant hope was
cherished by Greece, of the restoration of her freedom.
Even the bustle and exhaustion of war could not restrain
this ardor.  The seat of government had not been established in Tripolizza for three weeks, when a Turkish mosque
was converted into a Lancasterian school, and seventy children were immediately enrolled. Two other such schools,
one at Missolunghi, the other at Gastouni, were established,
by Mavrocordato, almost in sight of the infidel army. —
q* There were 500 Greek youths in the German universities, at the commierlcenent of the war.'  Blaquiere's Report.




ADDRESS ON THE' GREEK REVOLUTION.          -365:They are interesting from their love of Liberty.  I well
know that they have' worn the -most- galling-yoke' for four
centuries.  Yet they have- not worn it tamely and -patiently; but because without arms, without:foreign assistance,
with -far inferior numbers, with their -country:all garrisoned
by janizaries, and -with the enormous pressure of Turkish
power upon them, it was physically impossible for them to
shake it off. Yet this -is not the first revolution, which
they have attempted. - For the last fifty years, no seeming
opportunity has offered of liberating their country but they
have at once embraced it.
Faintly, very faintly do we realize how intense was the
courage, how devoted the patriotism, which impelled them
to the present revolt.  The numerous and strong fortresses
on the coast, in the interior, and in the islands were occupied by the Turks. To keep all things quiet, and to sound
the alarm on the approach of danger, Turkish soldiers were
quartered on every town and village. In addition to these,
the Turks had a large and disciplined army; the Greeks
had'none.  The Turks had a powerful- navy;: the Greeks
had none.  The Turks had arms; the Greeks, without a
license could not possess fire-arms, and were almost without
a bayonet.;- The Turks had a regular government:;''the
Greeks were a scattered, unorganized population.  The
Turks had money and all other resources in abundance;
the Greeks had no public treasures, and none of: the materiel of war.  The. Turks had their resources at command,
and could strike in a moment.  The Greeks did not even
know that, as a - people, they should act in- concert; and,
if they did this, it must be after months of uncertainty:and
delay.:: The Turks were an enemy-not, like the [British
in our revolution, 3000 -miles:off-they were at hand,'even
at the (door.d  By a-powerful- fleet; they could land' -an-:army"
31n




366     ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.
on any part of the coast, and shelter it under the cannon
of their own fortifications. They were an enemy, too,
ferocious, brutal and sanguinary beyond a parallel; accustomed to pay no regard to age or sex, to " dignity of rank
or sacredness of function."  When they entered on the
war, the Greeks perfectly understood this character of the
Turks. They well knew that they put in jeaopardy not
only their own property and lives, but the safety of their
dwellings, the lives of their children and their aged parents, and the purity of their wives and their daughters.
They had no promise of foreign aid; and the issue of
former insurrections had taught them, in letters of blood,
that no faith was to be put in any encouragements or promises of the neighboring powers, when it was their interest
to forget them.  They knew that the conflict was terrible
beyond example; and that they must maintain it alone,
with no prospect of help but from God. Brought to this
awful crisis, with all that the heart of man can love at
hazard, they moved in one embodied host into the field of
death, declaring to Turkey and the gazing world,' WE
WILL BE FREE; OR WE WILL PERISH."
I need not tell you, how far they have maintained this
declaration. Fighting alone, at this dreadful disadvantage,
amid murders and desolations which have made the world
turn pale, they have marched forward undismayed, in one
firm unbroken phalanx, to victory and freedom.
MANY THINGS INDICATE TIIEIR ULTIMATE SUCCESS.
To feel the full force of this remark, we must contrast
their condition now, with what it was when they" put on
the harness."  Then the country was covered with Turkish troops; now not a soldier is found in the Morea. Then
all the fortresses were in the hands of the enemy; now




ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.          367
by the last intelligence all those in the Morea, most of
those southward of Epirus and Macedonia, and many in
the islands have been. captured.  Then they had no military force but a mere mob of brave men, who had left
their fields and their shops to fight for their country.
Now  they have an experienced army of 50,000 men.
Then they were without muskets; and two-thirds of them
actually went to the field with no weapons but sticks;' now
they are well armed and well equipped.  Then they had
no park of artillery; now they have a full and well disciplined corps, commanded by Europeans, and perfectly
equipped for the reduction of any of the fortresses yet in
possession of the enemy. Then their officers had never
seen a battle; now they have often led their men to danger and to victory. Then the Turks were sure of conquest; now they expect to be beaten, and the Greeks
calculate to beat them of course. Then the Turks had a
powerful navy; now many of the finest ships are destroyed, while the Greeks have raised up a formidible fleet
which commands the Archipelago. Then the Greeks had
no credit; now, at a moderate premium, they raise the
sum of ~80d,000 sterling in London, and are offered twic.e
that sum if they:will take it.  Then their hopes of success
were shivering  in  the wind.  Now  they have fought
through three campaigns; and in the two last have met
almost the whole force of the empire; and still they are
conquerors.
The late destruction of the Turkish fleet by the providence of God, in the sea of Marmora, has raised the courage of the Greeks, as much as it has depressed that of the
enemy.  Should the Porte persevere in its obstinate, reB Bllaquiere's Report,




368     ADDRESS ON TIHE  GREEK R-EVOLUTi0ON.
fusal to adjust its differences with Russia;: should Persia
persist in declining to ratify the treaty of Bagdad; a powerful-force will be necessary on the Danube, and another
on -the Euphrates.:: To provide for and to direct these two
armies, and that destined against Greece, in: the approaching campaign; to equip a new fleet; to prevent in the
mean time the ravages of the Greek squadron; to keep
the Hellespont open; and to raise the drooping spirit of
the people; will require the collected wisdom of the Divan,
and the whole resources of the government.  In addition
to this, the official request of the consuls at Smyrna-those
of England and France, of the Netherlands and Austria
made in December last to the senate of Ipsara, that the
Greek fleet might not enter the gulf of Smyrna, nor make
any attack on the shipping or the fortifications, lest their
consular establishments should -be jeoparded; is a frank
acknowledgment, that the Greeks had then the entire command of the Archipelago.
We ought not here to forget that they have established
a free constitution of government; wise in its provisions;
securing to the citizen every civil and political right;
modeled in its bolder features after our; own; and clearly
evincing -that: the constituent- members of their General
Congress are men of superior and enlightened mindsmen, to whom their public affairs, at this eventful crisis are
most judiciously entrusted. Neither ought we to forget
that, throughout the whole war, the officers and men, both
of the army and navy, have evinced a:patriotism:and a
valor, not surpassed at Thermopylae or Marathon.
No man can look at these facts, without perceiving that
both the actual and comparative condition of the Greeks is
far better than it was, and their prospect of success incomparably brighter.  What is to; be, however, we do not




ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.          369
know; neither is it our province to prophecy.  Of three
things we may be sure:-Without putting forth all her
strength, Turkey will not surrender Greece. —During the
present summer the great contest will doubtless be decided.
-And its decision under God, will depend on the single
question, Whether Greece can command the resources of
war.  If wisdom in her statesmen, if conduct in her chiefs,
if fearless valour in her warriors, if pure disinterested patriotism in all her citizens can achieve her independenceGreece will be free.
THE STRUGGLE IS AN EVENTFUL ONE.
The issue of this struggle is big with consequences, not
only to the combatants themselves, but to the surrounding
countries, to the Oriental churches, to the Jews, to the
Mohammedan religion, to Europe, and the world.
If the Greeks fail in this contest-which may IIe, who
rules this lower world, forbid!-their sun will go down in
darkness and in blood. If they are not utterly extinguished as a nation; yet will their " final hope be flat despair."
They will see before them a night of slavery, to last through
centurial ages, and giving the promise of no returning day.
All the miseries, which fiendlike rage, revenge and pollution can inflict-miseries, of which the fires and blood of
Scio were but a type, will be heaped upon them. In that
catastrophe the Turk has felt the pulse of Europe, and
learned how much its cabinets will bear.  By one decisive
act of terror, forever to put down the spirit of revolt, thousands on thousands of the choicest sons of Greece will be
given up to indiscriminate massacre. Her wives and her
daughters will glut the slave-market, until no more purchasers can be found. Her colleges and schools, her
libraries and her press will be burnt up. Every vestige of




370      ADDRESS -ON THE- GRE'EK REVOLUTION-.
genius, taste, and- magnificence, now  standing, will be
swept away-.  Her warriors and statesmen, her clergy and
her scholars, will be devoted to-utter extinction.   Colonies
of Greeks will be driven away into Asiatic captivity; and
their places supplied by hordes of Mussulmen.  -Nothing
will be left undone to set a terrible example. of the consequences of: revolt, before the eyes of the. other nations-subjected to the Turkish yoke.
-.. If they fail, the power and-courage of the Ottoman
Porte will be proportionally increased. Hence the chains,
long fastened on Armenia and Chaldea, on Syria and Arabia, will only be riveted anew. The Mohammedan religion -will gain-new strength; and the churches of the
East will cease to hope for the termination: of their long
and abject servitude. - The period of the Jews' dispersion
will only be prolonged; for Jerusalem will still " be trodden down of the Gentiles," with no: apparent prospect that
"the times of the Gentiles will be fulfilled."
If they fail, Freedom, driven from: her last: retreat, will
take her final flight from  the continent of Europe, and
leave its subjugated millions in darkness and in chains.
That this is the very result desired- and aimed. at by- the
parties to the Holy Alliance, is plain: is palpable, from the
nature of -the case,:and from their own conduct.There are but two -kinds of government;-one founded
on the principle, that all power is originally vested in the
people; the other on- the opposite principle, that all power
is originally vested in the monarch, and that he exercises
it:by a divine right over his subjects. -These two- principles are directly -hostile to each other, and:lead to opposite
system of administration.-  While the people are:shrouded
in ignorance and- accustomed- to the yoke, they easily- coincide with the monarch, and willingly confess -that they:were




ADDRESS- ON: THE: -GREEK REVOLUTION.     371
born to be slaves.- But thereis a certain point in the progress of klnowledge-the- knowledge of their own rights
and their own strength-when, in point of fact, they incline to the other opinion; and conclude that themselves
are the only fountain of power; that government ought
to. be. administered, not for the aggrandizement of the ruler,
but for the good of the citizen; and that the most effectual
method of securing this object is to establish their own
form of government.  When any nation has reached this
point of knowledge, a despotic government never, has existed, never can exist over it, without the constant and
powerful pressure of military force; and there is no source
fromwhich nations acquire this knowledge so rapidly as
from example.
This.is plain, simple reasoning, founded on plain, obvious
facts, and has not escaped the attention of the cabinets of
Europe.  Arbitrary as they are, their only safety lies in
preventing their subjects from reaching this point of knowledge, and from witnessing any near examples of successful
resistance to the divine right of kings.  That this is the
principle on which they act, that they have combined to
avert this much dreaded crisis, and that these are the
means by which they intend to avert it, is plainly asserted
in their own official declarations.  If we wanted any cor-o
roboration of these, we might find it in Naples and Piedmont, in Portugal and Spain; and, if at length, we shall
not find it in the " Sea-girt Isle" and on these western.
shores, it will be because the Lion and the Eagle have
combined to guard the passage.
This train of thought furnishes the true reason whywhen, to succor the Greeks, their own subjects have al
most risen in insurrection, and the swords of their warriors
have "leaped instinctively from their scabbards;'.'.they




372     ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.
have yet stood by and viewed the murder of the Patriarch,
and the massacre, rapine and pollution of Scio and Cyprus,
with a cold and calculating indifference.  It has not been
owing to the difficulty or expensiveness of the undertaking.
It has not been owing to the conflicting interests or the
jealousies of the Four great powers. Had the Czar, as he
drew his sword in defence of Greece, solemnly protested
in the face of heaven and earth,-that his only purpose
was to deliver his suffering brethren from extermination,
that he would never sheath it until he had driven their oppressors from Europe, that he himself would not touch an
acre of their territory, but would guarantee the whole of
it, together with the Bosphorus and the Hellespont, to the
Greeks, as a free, sovereign and independent nation;-all
the jealousies of rival powers would have been hushed; and
the whole continent of Europe, but for this single principle, would have bidden him God speed.
If, however, in this struggle, the Greeks shall prevail; a
very different train of consequences will ensue. Instead of
this long midnight of slavery, deeper and blacker than the
midnight of the grave, they will open their eyes on a bright
and brilliant morning, to be followed by a long and glorious clay. The shackles of slavery will be broken-to be
riveted no more.  Claiming their ancient limits to the
northern frontiers of Macedonia and Epirus, they will occupy a territory, including their numerous islands, of
75,000 square miles-a territory, as we have seen, strongly fortified by nature and by art-a territory eminently
healthful, productive and delightful, and every where accessible to the approaches of commerce.  They will start
into existence as an independent nation with-our own
number-three millions of people. They will have been




ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.         373
taught lessons of practical wisdom in the school of adversity.
The efforts made in the cause of freedom will have roused
the whole intellect of the nation, and called forth talents
worthy to deliberate in the councils of Greece.  If their
commerce, when manacled by Turkish despotism, and
fleeced by Turkish rapacity, could yet cover and almost
command the Mediterranean; whither will it not go, what
will it not accomplish, when, moving free as air, it is fostered by a wise and parental government?  If their manufacturers, when ground in the dust, could yet acquire a skill,
which brought western Europe bending at her feet; to what
an extent of enterprise, to what a height of perfection, will
thev not advance, when roused to emulation by the market
of the world? If when robbed, and spoiled, and trampled
on as a nation of slaves, they could yet patronize letters,
and educate their choicest young men abroad, and found
universities, and establish the press, and translate and publish the best authors of ancient and modern Europe; what
patronage to learning and science will they not yield, what
seminaries will they not endow, what progress in letters
will they not make, what illustrious authors and artists will
they not rear, when all their wealth is their own; and when
all the motives which can actuate freemen, arising from the
remembrance of their former greatness, or from personal
distinction or national glory crowd upon their minds? If
centuries of persecution did not warp them from their religion, when the Bible was possessed merely by their clergy,
and science shed upon them only a dim and uncertain light,
and they were dissociated from the christian world; how
will their conceptions of Christianity be cleared, and their
attachment to it strengthened, when they are welcomed into
the family of christian nations, and the sanctuary of God
enlightens every village, and the Bible every habitation?
32




374    -ADDRESS ON- THE GREEK, REVOLUTION.
With just conceptions of the rights of man and the true
principles of a republican government, they will be under
no temptation from  any feelings of gratitude, from any
sense of obligation, to warp from those principles, and involve-themselves in entangling alliances. with Russia or
Austria.  From them, from all the powers of the continent
they have hitherto witnessed nothing, but unfeeling indifference or secret hostility..  All that they now ask of them.is-that they will let them-alone. ~ This, too, they may confidently expect; for the jealousies of Europe, which have
long been the safety of Turkey, will now become the shield
of Greece.
With a territory in Europe, occupied by three millions
of people, and capable of sustaining twelve millions, will
not the freedom of her government, the luxuriance of her
soil, the deliciousness of her climate, the advantages of her
commerce, and the enterprize of her people invite emigrants from the surrounding world?  Will it be surprising
if her population increases, for a series of years, in a ratio
resembling our own?
The territory left in Europe to Turkey will be comparatively small, The pride of its government will be humbled,
and the spirit of its people broken.-  Much of this remaining territory is: occupied by the Moldavians,:the Wallachians, and the Servians —tribes always ripe for revoltprofessing the Greek religion and actually leading the way
in the present revolution. -- The Turks and their govern
ment are barbarian:; the nations and governments around
them are civilized. With Russia' on the North, and Greece
on the South, and the rumblings-of a volcano underneath,
the Turkish power -in Europe will sink and be overwhelmed.
In that case, the jealousies of the other powers will not improbably enable Greece, at no distant period, to extend her




ADDRESS ON THE GREEK- REVOLUTION.    375
northern limits to the Danube.  Should the Ottoman Porte
withdraw to Asia Minor, hundreds of thousands of Greeks
are already there; and the nation will hardly forget- that
Anatolia was -a part of republicans and Caramania also of
imperial, Greece.  Should the Porte retreat to Damascus
or Bagdad; even there it will hardly find a quiet habitation.  Who can doubt that the Armenians and the Curds,
the Chaldeans and the Syrians are steadfastly watching the
issue of the present contest, and waiting only for the success of the Greeks to take their own place among the nations of the earth. If there be a passion found in every
human bosom, kindled in a moment, and when kindled,
absorbing every other, and spreading like the electric fire,
from man to man and from nation to nation, it is the love
of liberty; and if any thing can kindle it into inextinguishable flame, it is the recent example of a neighboring nation's
successful struggle for independence. And what nations
can have such powerful motives to follow this example,: as
those who are galled by a Turkish yoke. Their success
would be the final overthrow of the Ottoman government;
and Asia Minor, Armenia, and Curdistan, Mesopotamia
and Syria, Arabia and Egypt, feeling their chains drop
from around them, would rise up, shake themselves, and be
free.
In proportion as Turkey, the bulwark of the Mohammedan faith, is humbled or subdued, will that faith be weakened or destroyed, Persia is already a nation of infidels;
and Arabia and Egypt will easily renounce the religion of
the Impostor, when there is no one of his family to wield
his sword, or to fight his battles.
In Greece, also, Freedom will plant herself again behind
intrenchments, from which she never will be driven. Here
she will reign to enrich and enlighten, to reform and to




376     ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.
bless. The eyes of Europe will be steadily turned on
Greece; and, while they contrast her independence with
their own subjugation, they will one by one imitate her example. Like a vast lighthouse throwing its strong and
steady 7splendors on the surrounding darkness, she will
point the tempest-beaten nations to the haven of security
and peace.
How great will be the privilege to England and the
Seven Republics of America, if they can find such an
auxiliary in the south-eastern corner of Europe.  What an
advance will thus be made in behalf of the rights of man
and the government of law.
What a field will here be opened for the triumphs of the
Gospel. How delightful to overspread Greece with Bibles,
and to furnish her the chosen heralds of salvation.  What
prayers will ascend for the influences of heaven, to fail
upon her'" like the rain upon the mown grass." Clinging,
as she now does, to the great doctrines of our holy Religion,
how early may we hope, that she will raise up and send
forth her own evangelists to visit other climes.
The downfall of Turkey will remove that impassable barrier, which has hitherto shut out Christianity from Western
Asia. The christian nations already there will open their
eyes, at once, on the light of the Sun of righteousness.
Missionaries loaded with Bibles will feel their way into the
farthest retreats of Mohammedan darkness.  In Egypt,
Arabia and Persia, in Chaldea and Tartary, the tidings of
salvation will be proclaimed; and the Gospel of peace,
having gained admission, will begin to have free course, to
run, and be glorified.
If this event takes place, Jerusalem will cease "' to be
trodden down of the Gentiles," and " the set time to favor
her will come."  God has promised by his prophet that,




ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.         37T
when he shall " set his hand a second time" to recover the
remnant of his people, he will set up an ensign on the
mountains of Israel, not only for the Jews, but for all the
inhabitants of the earth to witness. What event can be so
surprising, so calculated to fix the attention of both Jews and
Christians, as the common downfal of Turkish and Mohammedan power, the recovery of Jerusalem, the liberation of the
eastern churches, and the admission of the Gospel to Western Asia.  What an instinctive and simultaneous movement will then take place of all the wandering tribes of
Israel towards the land of Promise.
Thus we have glanced at the Country, which is the
scene of this interesting Revolution; at the People who
have revolted; at their present Prospects; and at the Consequences, which will follow both their failure, and their
success.
With these things before you, My friends and countrymen, the solemn, the direct appeal is brought home to your
hearts, WHAT FEELINGS WILL YOU CHERISIH, WHAT CONDUCT WILL YOU PURSUE?  This appeal sounds forth-not
from this desk —not from the hall of your own Congress.
It comes from the Peloponnesus-it issues from the Senatehouse of Calamata.  On the 25th of May, 1821, not two
months after the declaration of Grecian independence, the
Messenian Senate turned their eyes across the ocean: and
remembered that this our native land, the glory of all lands,
was the country which freedom had chosen as her favorite
habitation.  Not satisfied, therefore, with including us in
the Manifesto addressed to Christendom  in general, they
made an individual appeal to the citizens of the United
States. After announcing to us their fixed determination
" to live or die for freedom," and to imitate the example
32*




3 78    ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.
which we have set to the nations of the earth; they call on
us " to crown the glory we have thus acquired, by aiding
them in purging Greece from the barbarians, who, -for four
hundred years, have polluted its soil; and in banishing ignorance and barbarism from the country of freedom and the
arts."  Conscious how little they had to expect from the
cabinets of Europe, they look to our country as their last
best hope, and bring their appeal directly to her door.
c' You will not, citizens of America," they say, "assuredly
you will not imitate the culpable indifference, the long ingratitude, of some of the Europeans. No, the fellow-citizens of Penn, of Washington and of Franklin will not refuse their aid to the descendants of Thrasybulus and Phocion, of Philopcemen and Aratus."
This appeal, so honorable to our country, is made in the
face of the world; and, in the face of the world we must
answer it.  What answer our Government should give, we
leave exclusively to the deliberations of the Capitol. Yet,
who that hears me does not rej ice, that the voice of this
peninsula, speaking through her representative -in the national councils, has already echoed through Europe; proclaiming her sympathy for Greece, and denouncing the
machinations of tyranny. But the appeal thus made, is
addressed-not to the government, but " to the citizens of
the United States;" and, were I permitted for a moment to
address my assembled countrymen, I would say to them, —'" The voice, which now echoes from  the cliffs of the
AMorea, is addressed to you, as Christians and as freemen.
It calls on you, not for governmental aid, but for your personal sympathy, and your individual co-operation. Take
care what answer it shall receive.  What you do will not
be done in a corner. You are not acting merely for yourselves. You have taken a lofty attitude among the nations




ADDRESS ON THE G-REEK REVOLUTION.          379
of the earth. You are stationed on the very ramparts of
freedom, and cannot escape their gaze. The question,
whether a nation can safely govern itself; whether a great
republic can be pre-eminently prosperous and happy; is no
longer a matter of doubtful speculation. You furnish mankind the daily evidence of fact. Already your example,
beaming like a rising sun, on the darkness of the eastern
hemisphere —
" aupicious twilight sheds
On half the nations, and with fear of change
Perplexes monarchs."Already has it rocked France as with an earthquake;
swallowing up her throne, and convulsing the surrounding
continent.  Already has it drawn fiom  the monarch of
Prussia the offer of a high reward to the writer, who should
most ably answer the question-" What is the best mode
of stopping the progress of those dangerous principles,
which were promulgated during the American revolution?"  Already has it embolden the colonies of America,
to burst their chains, and take their stations by your side,
as free and independent republics. Already has it terrified
the great sovereigns of the continent into the I-Ioly Alliance. Already, in the face of that alliance, has it lit the
torch of revolution in Portugal and Spain, in Piedmont
and Naples.
Greece, too, has felt its power. Imitating your example, she has thrown down the gauntlet, and is breasting
herself to the shock of war. Your wise and happy form
of government, she has established; your laws and institutions, she is adopting.  Will you perpetuate this salutary
influence, if you are deaf to her calls, and discover no interest in her sufferings.  Shall the taunting infidel, or the
frowning despot, laugh at her overweening confidence in
o~ VIr'"'a —-r-' C'"




380    ~ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.
your attachment to religion and freedom, Will it redound
to your honor, at last, that her sages and patriots have
thus singled you out, and, in the hearing of the surrounding world, have said to you,' We esteem you nearer to us
than the nations on our frontiers, and we look to you as
friends, fellow-citizens, and brethren,' if you suffer them to
look to you in vain. Because you are free and safe yourselves, are those, who are struggling to break the chains of
slavery, to have no hold on your hearts. Because you
have weathered the storm, and reached the haven of peace;
will you feel no sympathy for those who are still buffeting
with the tempest, and in danger of being whelrned beneath
the billows.  Shall vassal France lend that aid to the freedom of America, which independent America will not lend
to the liberties of Greece. Will you invite to your shores
the Hero, who, in the hour of your extremity, fought by
the side of Washington, and spent his treasures and his
blood to set you free; and shall your sons when they hereafter visit Greece, be entitled to no kindness for the aid
you furnished her in achieving her independence."
" Has then, oppression goaded on the Greeks to madness-Are they fighting, not merely for their fire-sides and
their altars, but for the cause of freedom, and the cause of
God-And do they look to you, my countrymen, for help?
-Feel, then, for them as strongly, as deeply, as you would
feel for yourselves, if you were fighting in their stead; or
if you were called to fight over again the battles of your
revolution.  Let these feelings be universal-make their
cause your own —and enlist in their favor the compassion,
the sympathies of mankind.
"' Are you a nation of Christians? Let these feelings
lead you to fervent and unceasing prayer, in secret and in
public, to Him who rules among the nations, that he will




ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.    8381
be " a wall of fire around about them, and the glory in the
midst of them, and that on all the glory there may be a
defence."  Offer also your devout ascriptions of praise
and thanksgiving, because, lending a gracious ear to their
supplication,-'" that he would afford them his Almighty
protection,"-he has hitherto fought their battles, and
been to them a shield and a buckler."
"Prove the sincerity of your feelings and your prayers
by your works. God in his providence now presents you
a happy opportunity to give vent to the feelings, with
which Turkish barbarity and Grecian valor have inspired
you. At this call, let every American, every Christian
heart beat high, and every purse-string be broken; and an
amount contributed for your suffering brethren, which will
prove to the gazing nations your gratitude to God, your
sympathy for the oppressed, your desires for the extension
of Christianity, and your compassion for a world in chains.
What you do, do quickly.  The hour of trial has come.
On the issue of this campaign, are the destinies of Greece
suspended. Before its close, her sun will go down in darkness, and starless midnight brood for centuries over the
fairest portion of the globe; or, ascending in unclouded
splendor, will shed its warm influence on her hills and vallies, and throw its broad beams from the Baltic to the
Niger, from the Tagus to the Caspian.  0 that Greece, O
that Europe might see in the amount you send them, a
spirit becoming the children of those, who invited Freedom,
long banished from the world, to return, and take up her
residence here!"
But, though not called to plead the cause of Greece, before my assembled countrymen; yet, at the request of
your Committee, I am this evening, allowed, my friends
and fellow-citizens, to urge her claims on you. But need




382     ADDRESS ON THE GREEK REVOLUTION.
I urge -them? —What heart does not throb, what bosom
does not heave, at the very thought of Grecian Independence? Have you- the feelings of a man, and do you not.
wish that the blood of Greece should cease to flow, and
that the groans and sighs of centuries should be- heard no
more?  Are you a scholar; anrid shall the -land of the
Muses ask your help in vain? With the eye of the enthusiast do you often gaze at the triumphs of the Arts; and
will you do nothing to rescue their choicest relics from
worse than Vandal barbarism?  Are you a mother, rejoicinginn all the charities of domestic life;-are you a daughter, rich and safe in conscious innocence and parental love;
and shall thousands more, among the purest and loveliest
of your sex, glut the shambles of Smyrna, and be doomed
to a captivity inconceivably worse than death? Are you a
Christian, and do you cheerfully contribute your property
to christianize the heathen world? —what you give to
Greece is to rescue a nation of C]hristians from extermination, to deliver the ancient churches, to overthrow the Mohammedan imposture, to raise up a standard for the
wandering tribes of Israel, and to gather in the harvest:of,
the world. Are you an American citizen, proud of the
liberty and independence of your country? Greece, too,
is struggling for these very blessings, which she taught
your fathers to purchase with their blood. And when she
asks your help, need I urige you to bestow it?-Where am
I?-In the sanctuary of God, in the city of the Pilgrims,
in the very birth-place of American Independence —hard
by yonder HALL, and yonder WHARVEs-and midway
between the Heights of Dorchester and Bunker Hill.
Here, then, I leave their cause.