PRACTICAL
SERMONS.
BY
NATHANIEL W. TAYLOR, D. D.,
LATE DWIGHT PROFESSOR OF DIDACTIC THEOLOGY
IN YALE COLLEGE.
NEW YORK:
PUBLISHED BY CLARK, AUSTIN & SMITH,
3 PARK ROW AND 3 ANN STREET.
1858.




Entered, according to Act of Congress, in the year 1858, by
NOAH POTTER, JR., SAMUEL G. BUCKINGHAMI, ANED WALTER T. HATCH,
In the Clerk's Office of the District Court of the United States for the Southern
District of New York.
STEREOTYPED AND PRINTED BY
A. A ALVORD,
15 Va'ndewater St., N. Y.




DR. TAYLOR was for ten years pastor of the Center Church
in New Haven, Connecticut, before called to the Theological
Chair in Yale College. These sermons were written during
this period, and preached in the ordinary course of ministerial duty. Many of them had reference to a state of deep
religious interest in his congregation, with which his ministry
was so frequently blessed.
They were the productions of his youth, before he had
attained the full maturity of his intellectual powers; and in
their adaptation to the pulpit, are characterized by a rhetorical style, in striking contrast with the precision of language
and exactness of statement which so marked his lectures.
They represent him as the pastor, rather than the professor.
They were often repeated during seasons of revival in New
Haven and elsewhere, and are now given to the public at
the solicitation of many who heard them.
It is proposed to publish hereafter, in uniform detached
volumes, such selections from his theological lectures, essays,
and discourses, as shall be deemed advisable.
NEW YORK, September, 1858.








CONTENTS.
TI    ROCK, NOT  AS OUR ROCI.
"For their rock is not as our rock, even our enemies themselves being judges."-DzuErmzoNomy xxxii. 1L
II.
THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MIAKE MEN HOLY.
"Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises, that by these ye might be
partakers of the divine nature."-2 PETER i. 4.
III.
THE BETTER COUNTRY.
"But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly." —HEBREWS xi. 16.
IV.
PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON.
"And at midnight Paul and Silas prayed and sang praises unto God, and the prisoners heard
them."-ACTs xvi. 25.
V.
THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD.
" I have set the Lord always before me; because he is at my right hand I shall not be moved."
-PsALMs   xvi. 8.
VI.
THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY. (A SERMON FOR THE LORD'S SUPPER.)
"There be many that say, Who will show us any good? Lord, lift thou up the light of thy countenance upon us. Thou hast put gladness in my heart, more than in the time when their corn
and their wine increased."-PSALMS iv. 6, 7.
VII.
"THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE TO THE CHRISTIAN FOR EVERY REAL GOOD."
"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?"-RoMANS viii. 82.




6                                CONTENTS.
VIII.
THE INCREASE OF FAITH.
"And the apostles said unto the Lord, Increase our faith." —LtKE xvii. 5.
IX.
GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN.
"Should It be according to thy mind?"-JoB xxxiv. 33.
X.
THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY.
"Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so to them:
for this is the law and the prophets."-MATTHEW vii. 12.
XI.
SINGLENESS OF HEART.
"The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be
full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness. If, therefore, the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness!" —MATTnEw vi. 22, 23.
XII.
PRACTICAL ATHEISK.
"The fool hath said in his heart. There is no God."-PSALMS Xiv. 1.
XIII.
SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT.
"For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds should
be reproved."-JoHN iii. 20.
XIV.
ON HEAVEN.
"After this I beheld, and lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of all nations, and
kindred, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with
white robes, and palms in their hands; and cried with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our
God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb. And all the angels stood round about
the throne, and about the elders and the four beasts, and fell before the throne on their faces,
and worshiped God, saying, Amen: Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and
honor, and power, and might, be unto our God for ever and ever. Amen. And one of the
elders answered, saying unto me, What are these which are arrayed in white robes? and
whence came they? And I said unto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said unto me, These
are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed their robes, and made them
white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they before the throne of God, and serve him
day and night in his temple: and he that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them. They
shall hunger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the sun light on them, nor any
heat. For the Lamb which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them
unto living fountains of waters. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes." —RIvELATION vii. 9-17.
XV.
*HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN.
"Holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord."-I-IEBssws xii. 14.




CONTENTS.:
XVI.
GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED.
"God is angry with the wicked every day."-PSALMS vii. 11.
XVII.
THE GOODNESS OF GOD DESIGNED TO RECLAIMS.
" Not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance." —RoMANS iL 4.
XVIII.
PARDONING MiERCY ABUNDANT.
"Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts; and let him return
unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith the Lord.
For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my
thoughts than your thoughts" —IsxiAn iv. 7.
XIX.
THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERtSUASIVE.
"''Knowing therefore the terror of the Lord, we persuade men."-2 CORINTHIANs v. 11.
XX.
REPENTANCE NECKSSARY.
"Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish."-LuerE xiii. 5.
XXI.
IfFMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE.
"Behold, now is the day of salvation."-2 CoRINTEIANS vi. 2.
XXII.
ON STRIVING TO ENTER IN AT THE STRAIT GATE
" Strive to enter in at the strait gate, for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and shall
not be able."'-LUsE xiii. 23.
XXIII.
SALVATION FREE TO THE WILLING.
"And whosoever will, let him take of the water of life freely."-PIEvELATION xxii. 17.
XXIV.
THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST.
"But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost."-2 CORINTHIANs iv. 3.
XXV.
THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN.
"Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee and the other a publican."Lu:Ea xviii 10.




8                                CONTENTS.
XXVI.
H   TING  BETWEEN  TWO OPINIONS.
" How long halt ye between} o opinions? If the Lord be God, follow him; but if Baal, then
follow him." —l KINGS xv   21.
XXVII.
ON MAKING EXCUSES.
"I pray thee, have me excuid.' —LuKE xiv. 18.
XXVIII.
HARDENING  THE HEART.
"To-day if. ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts."-HEBREws iii. 7, 8.
XXIX.
THE SINNER'S DUTY TO MAKE HIMSELF A NEW  HEART.
" And make you a new heart and a new spirit."-EZEKIEL xviii. 81.
XXX.
PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW.
"And Jesus said unto him, No man having put his hand to the plow, and looking back, is fit for
the kingdom of God."-LUKE ix. 62.
XXXI.
APOSTASY.
" Then said Jesus unto the twelve,. Will ye also go away? Then Simon Peter answered him,
Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life." —JOHN vi. 67, 68.
XXXII.
THE HARVEST PAST.
"The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved."-JEIEMIAH viii 20.




THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK.
DEUTERONOMY XXxii. 31.
"For their rock is not as our rock, even our enemies themselves being judges.'
THi language of imagery, however inadequate for many purposes, is unrivaled for beauty and force. By its conciseness
it gives condensation to thought and ease of apprehension,
and, by. its allusions, imparts to merely intellectual ideas the
power and pressure of sensations. It is always the language
of feeling.  Accordingly, all nations, in proportion as they
are exempt from the restraints of artificial life, and accustomed
to the indulgence of emotion rather than the abstract'exercise
of the intellect, are wont to express their ideas in the use of
figures and similitudes taken from visible objects. Such was
peculiarly the fact among Oriental nations. Accustomed as
they were to contemplate the works of the Almighty, in the
open air, and beneath a glowing sky, and led by their habits
of thought: and the structure of their language, they readily
seized the prominent objects of material scenes to express in
the strongest manner, the conceptions of their minds. The
sacred writers furnish the most striking specimens of this use
of language, and often astonish us, by the perspicuity, force
and sublimity in which, by natural imagery, they present the
great truths of religion.
In the chapter from which the text is taken, in not less than
four instances the Infinite God is denominated "a Rock."
The same metaphor often occurs in the Scriptures, and to any
one at all acquainted with the history of Judea, the propriety
and force of the allusion must be obvious. The mountains
1*




10        THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK.
and rocks of Palestine, at an age when the present arts of war
were unknown, often furnished its inhabitants with an impregnable defense against their invading enemies. To these rocks
and their caverns, travelers also and others were wont to retreat, for shelter from the weather, for protection from the
revenge of individual enemies, and the ferocity of ravenous
beasts. Those who are acquainted with the history of David,
especially the manner of his frequent deliverances from the
hand of Saul, will see how naturally he, could extend the
allusion to his Divine Protector, and sing, "The Lord is my
Rock, and my fortress;" " who is a Rock, save our God,"-and
those whose experience enables them to enter into the anticipations of the evangelical prophet can easily perceive the fitness of the same image as applied to the Saviour of men. "A
man shall be a hiding-place from the wind, and a covert from
the tempest, as rivers of water in a dry place, and as the
shadow of a great Rock in a weary land."
But Moses not only declares God to be a Rock, as being the
strength and the refuge of his people, but institutes a coinparison between this rock and every other. "Their Rockis
not as our Rock."  The ground of hope and trust of others isnot like that of the people of God. So plain and undeniable
is the superiority of the latter, that he is not afraid to appeal
to the judgment of enemies on the question, fully confident
that they must make the reluctant acknowledgment of the
truth of his position.  "Their Rock is not our Rock, even
our enemies themselves being judges."
The truth which I shall attempt to illustrate is this:- 7he
Christian has a ground of hope and trust and joy, which all
other  men do and must acrknowledge, that they do not possess.
I. Let the appeal be made to the most determined enemies
of Christianity. It would not be difficult to multiply the concessions of this class of men that they could invent nothing to
supply the place of that religion which they rejected and
labored to destroy. In its moral and social advantages, in the
solace it administers to grief, in the support it gives in trou



THEIR ROOK, NOT AS OUR ROCK.               11
ble, in the tranquil pleasures it affords through life, and in the
hopes with which it brightens the prospects and alleviates the
fears of death, even those who have most scornfully rejected
its proofs, have been obliged to confess its superiority. I can
appeal to but few examples in confirmation of these remarks.
With respect to the superior moral influence of Christianity,
we have the acknowledgment of two of the most distinguished
infidels of the former age. They assiduously inculcated on
their children the doctrines and precepts of Christianity, and
when censured by their infidel friends for their inconsistency,
the reply of each was substantially the same: "Show me
better rules of life, and I will renounce these."  Similar
instances have often occurred, in which parental affection
aided by conscience, has triumphed over the pride of consistency and labored to bless its object with the consolations of
the hated religion of Jesus.
Of the comparative worth of the world and of religion, to
render life happy as it passes, take the following confession of
one of this class of men: "I have," says he, "run the silly
rounds of business and pleasure, and have done with them all.
When I reflect on what I have seen, what I have heard, and
what I have done, I can hardly persuade myself that all that
frivolous hurry and bustle and pleasure of the world has any
reality, but I look upon it all as one of those romantic dreams
which opium occasions, and do by no means desire to repeat
the dose for the sake of the dream. Shall I tell you that I
bear this melancholy situation with the sustaining constancy
and resignation which others speak of.  No; I bear it, because I must bear it, whether I will or no. I think of nothing
but killing time now it has become my enemy, and my resolution is to sleep in the carriage during the rest of the
journey."  This is testimon.y to the comparative inanity and
miseries of a worldly life, from a man who did not speak
slightingly, because it was in the way of his profession. He
did not deny through envy, the pleasures which he was forbidden to taste. The witness was Lord Chesterfield-a man than




12        THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK.
whom none knew the world better or shared more largely in
its smiles. He had discernment enough to see its comparative worthlessness, and magnanimity enough to confess it.
You see how poor, how abject, how wretched he pronounced
himself; how unlike in his own estimation, was his condition
to that of the resigned and cheerful Christian!
Nor shall we find less decisive acknowledgments of the
superiority of Christian hope, if we appeal to the death-beds
of this class of men. - None of them have met death in triumph; none of them have claimed superiority for their system
over Christianity in the consolations it imparts and the prospects
it opens, in the honest hour when man stands on the brink
of eternity. All they have ventured to claim for any- is, that it
can then give calmness and composure, which result from all
unconcern for futurity-which, in the judgment of God, and
of common sense too, is the heaviest curse, in time, to an immortal being. If we go yet farther and inquire how many ilfidels have closed life in anguish, with "a certain fearful looking-for of judgment and fiery indignation," how numerous the
examples- how piercing their cries! That arch-enemy of the
Son of God Voltaire, died with hell felt by anticipation,
alternately blaspheming God and supplicating his mercy!
Many others might be named who have yielded up the ghost
with similar horrors, cursing with dire imprecation the hour
when they abjured Christianity for the blasphemies of infidel
philosophy! But who, on a death-bed, was ever heard to curse
the day he embraced the Son of God as a Saviour? who would
exchange the sweet submission and victorious hope which
have shed the luster of heaven on the death-bed of the Christian, for the gloom and the horrors of being blasted into annihilation! Surely, "Their Rock is not as our Rock, even our
enemies themselves being judges."
II. It is not to the avowed infidel alone that the declaration
in the text applies. The more common, and perhaps the no
less dangerous case of those who speculatively believe but
practically reject the Gospel,-who take the world for their god




THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK.               13
and portion instead of the God whom the Scriptures reveal, is
one in reference to which the Christian may also say, "Their
Rock is not as our Rock."
Here, too, we might appeal to the confessions of this class
of men, made in all the different circumstances of life. These
however, are so common, and so often witnessed, that it is
hardly necessary to repeat them. We shall rather present
the appeal to the understanding and conscience, and inquire,
from the nature of the subject, whether every worldly man,
himself being judge, must not confess the superiority of the
Christian's hope and portion to his own?  That he must, will
appear,
1. From the fact that he acknowledges the truths of Christianity, without practically embracing them. IHe professedly
believes what he practically denies. Of course his very faith
contains an acknowledgment of the point in question. In
admitting the Gospel to contain the decisions of eternal truth,
he admits the vanity of all his hopes from the world, and the
stability of the Christian's hope in God. How obvious then
the contrast ill his own judgment.
The Christian takes the God whom the Bible reveals as his
God and his portion. The speculative believer admits that
God is the only proper portion of the soul, but takes the world
for his portion. The Christian's views, affections, hopes, and
joys, accord with his faith. He believes there is a God of infinite perfection-the Maker, the Preserver, the Governor,
and Redeemer of men. He looks to him in this character.
He, practically recognizes him in all these relations. The
mere speculatist also believes there is such a God, but refuses
to recognize him in a single relation in which he reveals himself to man. The Christian believes the promises of God's eternal covenant, and on the unchangeable word of Him who has
promised, he rests, as a sure foundation, for confidence, amid
the changeableness of all terrestrial scenes. The mere nominal believer admits the reality of the same covenant of God,
but Snows, from the very terms of it, that he shuts himself




14        THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK.
away from all its provisions. The same is true of every item
which makes up the Christian's portion in time and for eternity. The unbeliever admits their reality; he admits the
riches of the inheritance of those who have God in all the
majesty and glory of his perfections for their God; Jesus, in
all the fullness of his love and sufficiency of his grace, for their
Saviour; heaven, with all its purity and bliss, for their eternal
home; but he knows by the decisions of the same oracle of
truth, that in all this he has neither part nor lot; he knows
that in contempt of all this he looks to a worthless world to
bless him, and he knows how poor and wretched, and naked
he is, compared with him who is an " heir of all things." IHis
very faith in Christianity, though too cold and too distrustful
to secure for himn the least of its blessings, tells him to his
entire conviction, what has portion is, and what is that of the
real Christian. And thus the acknowledged record of eternal truth condemns every part of his practical system. True,
he dreams of happiness from the world; he hopes the world
will bless him. But what security has he for these hopes?
Let himself judge. Can he challenge a comparison between
them and the hopes of the Christian?  Instead of being able
to point for the warrant of his hopes to the page of inspirationinstead of appealing to the truth of the living God,-in his own
decided conviction every declaration and every attribute of
God sap his hopes to the foundation. Look now at the Christian: his faith is in God, in his Son, in his covenant; and his
hopes, his confidence, and his joys are in accordance with
his faith, and grow out of it. The hand of God's revelation
draws aside the veil, and there are the disclosed realities of the
Christian's inheritance, amid the scenes and grandeurs of eternity!  Let those, then, who give to Christianity the bare
compliment of cold assent, judge whether their rock be as the
Rock of the real Christian.
2. The worldly man is compelled to the same confession by
a comparison of the ground of his confidence with that of the
Christian. It is a thought welcome to the mind of the worldly




THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCOK.              15
man, that in point of present advantage he has greatly the
superiority, and that, could he procure all he desires in this
world, he should have no cause, at least so far as this life is
concerned, to envy those who place their happiness in religion.
Yet on this ground-the strongest he can take-we are not
afraid to encounter him in an argument respecting that religion which " has the promise of the life that now is, as well as
of that which is to come." Let him, then, bring forward his
good things, and magnify them to their utmost extent; let the
comparison be made in the most favorable light to himself,
and then let himself judge. What, then, are his good things a
Nothing, which so far as it is a real good, which the Christian
may not possess and enjoy as well as he-yea, enjoy in a
higher measure. He knows nothing of that gratitude and
love, of that cheerful and confidential dependence on the
all-bounteous Giver which the Christian knows, and which
enhance the value of every gift a thousand fold. What are
his good things? They are, confessedly, fleeting and uncertain in their duration. Longer than life they cannot last,
commonly not so long. Anxiety for their continuance embitters their enjoyment.  A thousand stings, loaded with
secret venom, poison the most flattering joys. Satiety soon
impairs and destroys the relish; the vicissitudes of fortune in
a moment take his all away. Disease or calamities render
every delight nugatory, and old age, with its infirmities, its
trembling limbs, its painIful days and wakeful nights, stamps
all with "vanity and vexation of spirit." Is it so with the
Christian?  With God for his portion, will his portion fail
him? With the love of God shed abroad in his heart, with
the tranquil consciousness of the presence and favor of God,
what has the worldly man to compare for a moment in point
of stability?
Let us concede, and more cannot be asked, the intrinsic
worth of each to be equal, and allude only to the permanency
and stability of these joys. One has this changing, uncertain
world-its fading honors, its riches with their wings, its oft




16        THEIR ROCOK, NOT AS OUR ROCK.
disgusting pleasures. The other-the eternal God, in the fullness of his love, the extent of his wisdom, and the energies of
his omnipotence. We ask for the verdict of reason and conscience, which has the most desirable inheritance?  Again,
worldly joys are confessedly unsatisfying in their nature.
Ask the experience of the world for six thousand years. Have
the gifts of earth and time satisfied a human being? When
every thing around has smiled-when health and youth and
wealth, and cheerful prospects have conspired to cheer and
make happy, has there not, in every dweller on earth, been a
want of true repose and settled confidence? Is not the bosom
of man a void when the world has lavished all its gifts upon
him?- Show us the solitary individual who has said to his
heart, " enjoy pleasure," who has not been forced to add, "behold,: this also is vanity." Look at the nature of the soul. Is
it not a rational and an immortal existence? Can the world
then satisfy its desires-desires which stretch into immortality-and ask for a participation of God's blessedness? " Without God" must not the soul, from the very nature of its
capacities, be poor, unsatisfied, and forlorn?. It must have
more. It must have something which can fill and satisfy its
desires; something grand like its capacities, something eternal like their duration. It must have God. Such a portion
has the Christian;; he has it now. It is a vile calumny on the
religion of the Gospel to suppose that the Christian has nothing in God till death shall bring him to his home in the
heavens. He is with God on earth. It is his prerogative to
contemplate his glories here; to love and trust and adore God
here; to enter into his designs, and to be active with him in
advancing his purposes here. The Christian's God is a God at
hand, and he knows what it is to lean on his bosom and commune with him here. He indeed, takes not in that fullness of
joy which the clearer visions of heaven will afford, but he has
its foretaste. The same God whom he will then see he now
sees, and the same fountain sends forth its communications to'bless him here, which, when the fullness of God shall pour




THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROOK.               17
forth its gifts, will bless him there. Let, then, the men that
are lying down at the puddles of earth look up to the sources
of the Christian's happiness, and let conscience tell the comparative worth of their portion. Ah! my brethren, there is no
mistake, we know their decision. "Their rock is not as our
Rock, even our enemies themselves being judges."
3. The superiority of the Christian's portion is equally undeniable, if we consider the remedies it affords under the evils
of life. These evils are either spiritual or temporal. Advert,
then, to the character and state of man as a sinner; the
dominion of moral corruption; the curse of the broken law;
the reproaches of conscience; the malignity and wiles of the
powers of darkness. To these evils (what in comparison deserves the name) what has the worldly man to oppose? Nothing-absolutely nothing. He stands forlorn and naked in the
conflict, without a shield, and without a refuge. Can he maintain an ignorance of his state, and thus exemption from the
pangs of conscience? And is this torpor of soul, upheld by
willful ignorance and obduracy, a blessing? Is it really desirable to sleep on the brink of damnation? Even this cannot be.
Miany a beam of light flashes terror on his mind-many a pang
of conviction strikes a dagger through his heart. The curse
of God rests upon him, and the depravity within reigns, without an authorized hope of its mitigation, even for eternity.
Behold the Christian rejoicing in remedies for these deadliest of evils-remedies obvious, all-sufficient, indefensible.
To the power of in-dwelling sin he opposes the all-sufficient
grace of God, to enstamp the image of God on the soul. To
the curse of the law, and the anguish of a guilty conscience,
the peace-speaking blood of the great atonement. When
assailed by the power of the Prince of Darkness he is still
safe, he is still happy, for he leans on the arm of the omnipotent God. Let us advert to temporal evils. Human life is a
scene of suffering-from the cradle to the grave it is a pilgrimage of sorrow. None can expect exemption. It is a world of
curse, and the cloud sits deep on the face of it. Under these
Vol. I.                  B




18       THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROOK.
calamities and woes the mind sinks without support. And
what support has the man of the world?  Can he meet poverty, the loss of health, of friends and relations, with a
natural fortitude and a stoical apathy that shall sustain him?
Adjudge him then, the amount of his consolation-the consolation of a brute. Other consolation, other support, he has not.
If he has, let them be specified. But he has them not. The
world was his portion, his all; adversity strips him, and leaves
him a prey to bitter recollections, to fruitless wishes, to disappointment without relief and without hope. Like the plundered Ephraimite, the wretched votary looks around in vain, for
his idols. He had set his heart on shadows, and is miserable
because they are gone. The waves of calamity have rolled
over him, desolated every fair fabric of earthly bliss, and he
has no refuge. How, in the mean time —how fares the Christian? His treasures are subject to no decay; stripped of
earthly possessions, still he is rich, for his treasure is laid up in
another world; deprived of earthly friends and comforters, he
has a friend Almighty and ever present, who will never change
and never cease to bless. He, whom the heaven of heavens
cannot contain, takes up his abode with him; he numbers the
hairs of his head; not a sparrow can fall to the ground without
his Heavenly Father. He enters into the sentiments and plans
of the Eternal. He knows he reigns. He knows he will
glorify himself, and bless them that love him. And are not
those perfections, which are equal to the government of
worlds and systems, competent to direct his little concerns?
And can he not trust him? Ask him, and you shall hear his
answer: "The Lord God Omnipotent reigneth, let the earth
rejoice. Let the darkness and the tempest surround me; let
the winds blow, and the waves rage, I have an interest in
the Ruler of the storm; and when it is his wil and for my
good, he will say to the winds,'Cease,' and to the waves,'Be still."'
Again, in the article of death, how stands the comparison?
When that event comes to the man of the world, who admits




THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR RocK.              19
the decisions of God, concerning his own sinfulness and the
punishment that awaits him; when under the pressure of
pain and breathlessness, he knows he must die, what now
shall support him — what shall pacify a guilty conscience
and still the anticipations of coming vengeance? His own
righteousness?  He has none, and knows he has none. Shall
he now fix a hope on the indulgence of God?  He cannot.
IHe knows him to be a just God, taking vengeance on them
that obey not his Gospel. Shall he sustain himself with doubts
and unbelief, and really make it a question whether his soul
will sink into annihilation or woe forever? or whether its
stupendous faculties are to be inlets of pain, despair and woe?
or to be expanded to the fruition of the infinite good? The
question, if he could raise it, is enough to fill him with consternation —enough to make every throne in heaven tremble,
and convulse the abyss beneath. Oh, no! -there is nothing
to sustain the tranquillity of his dying hour. Behind him, a
life of sin; within him, an accusing conscience; before him,
an angry judge and an opening hell: and thus he must die.
Look now at the expiring Christian. He has familiarized the
scenes of death by devout meditation on the glories beyond it.
He has fixed his trust in HIim who came to deliver them, who
"through fear of death were subject to bondage," and is
"ready to be offered." To "die is gain."  lie who has conquered death is with him; he longs to depart. The moment
comes; the languor of his dying eye is lightleed up with celestial brilliancy, he shouts " Salvation," alnd is away to the
heaven of his God. Again, we put the question, Who has support, and peace, and safety, and hopes, and prospects, like the
Christian? Whose rock is like his Rock?  Let an ungodly
world answer. We are willing to abide their decision. I
might pursue the inquiry in reference to the results in eternity. It must suffice to ask, What is the portion now of the
one? what of the other? Whether the rewards of religion, or
the punishment of guilt —whether the blessedness of heaven,
or the pains of hell, be preferable, is the question? Could we




20       THEEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK.
summon a witness from the dread world of woe could we obtain from a fellow-mortal-from the rich man in tormentfrom Judas, who went to his own place-their testimony:
yea, could one of this assembly know the reality by feeling
it-could we obtain a response from devils-could we ask
angels, and the redeemed in glory-we should have but one
answer from them all. On the united testimony of them all,
united with the testimony of his God, the Christian might still
triumph with the man of God in the text: " Their rock is not
as our Rock, even our enemies themselves being judges."
REMARKE S.
1. The Christian has abundant cause to be satisfied with
the portion he has chosen. Its superiority to every other, and
its all-sufficiency, are not matters of uncertainty admitting
either of question or debate. The point is settled-not only by
the testimony of the God of truth-not only by his own experience, and the experience of every saint that has gone before
him —not only by the obvious and undeniable nature of things
-not only by the clearest, fullest evidence that the subject itself admits of, but his enemies, those who practically despise
and reject his portion, bring the reluctant homage of their acknowledgment. Let them, then, cast out your name as evil,
and say all manner of evil against you falsely, and then let the
appeal be brought home to their consciences, and it shall appear,
not only that holy beings on earth-not that celestial intelligences-not that God approves, but that an ungodly world
too, render their unwilling but profoundest homage of acknowledgment to the wisdom of your choice.  They know
that yours is the part of wisdom; theirs the part of folly.
They know that you are rich, and that they are miserably
poor. They know that you have consolations which stamp
even their joys with wretchedness; they know that you are
raised above disappointment and calamity and death, and
that they are the helpless victims of these evils. They know




THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK.              21
that you have an inheritance of life and bliss beyond the
grave, and that they have none but the woes of the second
death. They know that the everlasting God is your portion,
and that this vain world, so soon to be left, so soon to be
burnt, is their all; and what is the contempt of such men to
be accounted of? The day of their judgment and of yours is
at hand-the day of their confusion and of your triumph;
when before the assembled universe, they, in the accents of
despair, shall confess their folly and their madness; and when
you, with the ecstasies of heaven and the song of salvation
shall say, "The Lord is my Rock, and my fortress," "Who is
a Rock save our God?"
2. How concerned should Christians be to know more and
more the value of their portion while on earth! If they do not
find it draw their affections away from the world, if they do
not find its efficacy in tranquillity of conscience, in that joy of
the soul-that peace of God which passeth all understandingif they cannot sustain and welcome the afflictions of this vale
of tears, as the appointment of their Heavenly Father, if they
cannot approach death with composure and even with triumph,
it is not because of the insufficiency of their portion. It is because they have thought too much of the world and too little
of the Rock of their salvation —too much of the enjoyments of
the way, and too little of the blessedness of their eternal home
-too much of the influence of instruments and second causes,
and too little of the wisdom and the power and the goodness
of a reigning God; too much of the conflict with the last enemy,
death, and too little of its conqueror; too much of the body
in ruins, too little of the spirit in glory. Come, Christian, and
renew thy confidence in thy God. There is enough in him for
thine every want, enoughl in his Son, enough in his Covenant.
Oh, the sustaining peace, the cheerful hopes, the glad anticipations of trust in God! of a firm, unqualified, unshaken trust in
God! What a radiance it sheds on every path, what life it
gives in the midst of death! What light it sheds from the
throne of the Eternal, as a prelude of everlasting day:! Who




22        THEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK.
that knows any thing of its consolations, would not desire to
know more and more of them a
To conclude, let me ask those who have no hope in God, nothing to support, to comfort, to bless theni for time or eternity,
but this world, are you quite satisfied with your portion? Is a
world which corrupts, ensnares, afflicts and ruins the soul, a
sufficient inheritance for an immortal being? With no support
under the afflictions that await you in this pilgrimage of sorrow, with no relief in the hour of death from the shudderings
of guilt, and horrors of despair; sinking into the grave, with
no prospect, but of a resurrection to damnation, have you a satisfying portion? You know you have not, you know you are
wretchedly poor for time and eternity. And, my hearers,
what is reason, what is conscience, what is it to know all this
and yet despise it? what is it to know the guilt, the miseries
and the woes of an impenitent, unpardoned immortal, and to
know that God has pitied his wretchedness, and provided relief;
offered you himself in all the glory of his perfections, his Son
in all the fullness of his grace, all the provisions of his eternal
covenant, offered all this as the ground of your security, peace,
and happiness —what is it to reject all this, with a full conviction of its reality? Is there nothing in God which you need
both here and hereafter! Does not hope- hope in God in the
bosom of guilty man, stamp vanity on all you deem substantial a
Come, then, fellow-sinner, to this Rock of your salvation.
Here is a sure foundation. Thousands have put their trust
here, and have not been confounded. Do you not wish for
something which you know others have, and you have not,-do
you not wish for a better portion than the world? Oh, say, do
you not wish that the Almighty God were your friend, your
protector, your refuge, and portion? Do you not feel an inward
sigh-oh, for the inheritance of a child of God, for his peace
and hope and consolations in death, and his inheritance in eternity! Cast in, then, your lot with him; come, and put your
trust in the same Saviour; come and accept, as freely as he
offers himself, God as your portion, and you are made for



TIEIR ROCK, NOT AS OUR ROCK.              23
ever! Eternity shall open upon you with the full vision of
his glory, and its rolling ages shed on you the gifts of all that
he can impart to bless. But refuse, and death shall meet you
with no supporting hope, no glad anticipations of joy, and eternity shall stretch onward its absorbing periods of duration,
with no prospect but one-the flames of hell. And when this
becomes reality, what will be your emotions, as you lift your
eyes to the paradise of God, and think where you are, and
where the Christiant is?




THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY.
2 PETER i. 4.
"Whereby are given unto us exceeding great and precious promises, that by these
ye might be partakers of the divine nature."
WE may hope to derive benefit from the Gospel, in proportion as we understand its practical design and tendency. This
remark applies not only to the precepts and doctrines of the
Gospel, but also to its promises. This precious part of the
sacred volume, like almost every other, has not escaped great
practical perversion. The error seems to consist in regarding
the divine promises as chiefly, if not wholly, designed to promote the comfort of Christians. It is true, indeed, that the
promises of God are adapted to afford the believer rich consolation during his pilgrimage on earth. But they have
another and a higher design, even to promote our conformity
to the moral image of God.
This design is explicitly asserted in the text.  The apostle,
after referring to the fact that in Christ all things are given
that pertain to life and godliness, specifies the promises of his
grace as having the same design and tendency. " Whereby are
given unto us exceeding great and precious promises, that by
these ye might be partakers of the divine nature."
Let us consider the truth implied in these words, that one
important design of the divine promises is to promote personal
holiness.
I. The Scriptures often declare this to be a principal design
of the divine promises.  " Having therefore these promises,
dearly beloved, let us cleanse ourselves from all filthiness




THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY.  25
of the flesh and spirit, perfecting holiness in the fear of
God." Along with such explicit declarations as this and that
in the text, we find the sacred writers constantly referring to
the promises of God, as containing- the grand and essential
motives to holy obedience. Whatever is necessary to encourage, to cheer, to animate, to strengthen, to prompt in the
course of holy obedience, is derived by constant appeals and
illustrations, fron the promises of God. Of every one that
hath this hope-the hope founded on these promises-it is
said that he purifieth himself even as God is pure.
II. We argue the same thing from the character of man as
a moral being, and the purpose of God toward him. As a
moral being man is a subject of God under a government administered by moral influence-that is, by means of motives.
The great purpose of God toward man is to perfect his moral
character through moral influence. But where is this influence furnished? in what are these motives presented, if not in
the blessings promised as the reward of obedience?  If God,
by these promises, intended merely to comfort his people, by
quieting their fears and awakening their hopes, why are not
his promises absolute and unconditional securities? [But these
promises of God are annexed constantly to his commands,
which require the holiness of man, and their fulfillment is connected only with conformity to these commands. Plainly,
then, we have no more evidence that it is the will of God that
men should be holy, than we have that his promises are designed to produce this effect.
III. From the direct practical tendency of the promises of
God. There is no higher evidence of the design or purpose to
be answered by the appointments of God than the true tendency of such appointments. Let us then trace, in a few particulars, the obvious practical tendency of the divine promises
to produce in man conformity to the divine image or personal
holiness.
1. Such is the tendency of the divine promises, as they remove every obstacle to personal holiness. With God there is
Vol. I -2




26  THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY.
forgiveness that he may be feared. Nothing is plainer than
that man, under the burden of a hopeless controversy with
God, would sink into the sullen inactivity of despair. He
would never take a step in the path of obedience to that God
who should look upon him only in his wrath. And yet to
man, as a sinner, without the promise of mercy, the denunciation of the curse of God would remain in all its darkness and
terrors, unmitigated by a ray of hope. To rouse him to holy
activity, the promise of God is indispensable. You may
shew him an opening hell, but without a promise revealing a
pardoning God and opening heaven, he will never stir. With
such promises all the hopelessness and despair of escaping the
curse is taken away, by the assurance of favor and reward to
obedience.
Without the promises there would remain also another obstacle of paralyzing influence-the impracticability of obedience without the grace of God. The Christian needs no other
knowledge but the knowledge of himself to convince him that
the assistance of God is necessary to lead him to engage successfully in his service. With the conscious fickleness of his
own heart, his resolutions so often broken, his liveliest emotions of love so soon abated, his proneness to relapse into sin
and insensibility so constant, his return to God so difficult, so
forced, so unnatural; with so much to be done, while there is
such a body of death to discourage and overwhelm, how soon,
without the promise of divine aid, would the Christian abandon all in despair?  But with the promise of a faithful God
sounding in his ears, "' My grace is sufficient for thee," how
will he rise, as it were, in the consciousness of that strength
which shall be perfected in his weakness, and enter the career
of obedience with the inspiration of hope? Thus, by the
promises of God, the otherwise insurmountable obstacles of
unpardoned guilt and unconquerable corruption are removed.
The mighty barrier at the very entrance opens before him, the
rough places are made smooth, every mountain is brought
low, and every valley is filled,-by the promises of God is un



THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY. 27
veiled the salvation of God.. Guilt is made to hope, and
weakness itself to look up with confidence; and the language
of obedience is adopted in all the strength of its purpose,
" Lord, I am thy servant, I am thy servant; thou hast loosed
my bonds."
2. This tendency is apparent in the nature of the blessings
promised. Whether we look at the general or specific nature
of the divine promises we see that they cannot become effectual as motives without producing holiness. In their general
character they secure the real good, the highest interest, of
the Christian. But what is the real good, the highest interest,
of man, but perfection in holiness and happiness? inl other
words a participation of the divine nature? The actual import, then, of these promises is, that God will render every
thing subservient to the holiness, and, in this way, to the happiness of his people. To be influenced, then, by these promises, is to be influenced by holiness and the happiness that
springs from it. Holiness must therefore be the only possible effect. The motive is of such a nature that it can excite
nothing in man but desires after holiness, and its appropriate influence is to heighten and invigorate the purposes of
holiness, and to produce correspondent action.
In their more specific nature, what are the promises of
God? Peace of conscience is promised. But who can think
of escaping the reproaches of this inward monitor, except by the practice of holiness?  Is justification unto
life promised? But who can be influenced by this blessing as a motive, and still wish to incur the guilt and the
condemnation of sin? Are deliverance from temptation, sanctification, and growth in grace promised? But who can be
influenced by these blessings without aspiring after holy conformity to the divine image? Is heaven promised? but what
is there in heaven but an influence of transformation into the
likeness of the God who reigns there?  Has God promised to
give himself to his people to be their God? what is there in
God, his attributes, his favor, his presence, his glory, but the




28 THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY.
same influence of assimilation a-what, in a word, is the ultimate end and amount of all that God has promised to his people, but that they shall be like him-like him in character,
and like him in blessedness?  No sooner does the soul of
man come under the appropriate influence of the promises
of God than the progress of assimilation to God is begun,
which is to be perfected in the heavens.
3. The same tendency is apparent in the circumstances or
mode of the divine promises. Such is the manner of God's
promises as to secure to the utmost their full energy on the
soul. While the holiness of man is their grand and ultimate
end, there is no sensibility or interest of man to which they
do not appeal, and aim to render subservient to that end.
They create no interference, but insure a perfect coincidence
between man's temporal and eternal well-being.  "Godliness" has the "promise of the life that now is, and of that
which is to come." There is no interest of man in time, which
they disregard or fail to promote; no wants to which they do
not furnish the adequate and the best supplies. There are no
temptations, nor trials, nor afflictions, for which support and
deliverance are not provided; no affections, no relations, no
duties which portain to man's present state, to which their
provisions do not fully extend, which they do not consult and
regulate in a manner worthy of God. By precepts he regulates
all, and by the promises engages to give grace and glory. " No
good thing will he withhold from them that walk uprightly."
Every sensibility of our nature is appealed to by these
promises to urge us onward in the path of devotedness to God.
In all the tender relations of life his promise invites us to him.
"Leave thy fatherless children with me," saith God to his
people, " I will preserve them alive, and let your widows trust
in me." 0 "When my father and mother forsake me the Lord
will take me up."  In all the offices of kindness to our fellow
men, his promise meets us with its incentives. "lHe that
giveth to the poor, lendeth to the Lord." Thus through the
whole range and system of relative and social duties, God by




THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY. 29
his promises appeals to our own natural affections and sympathies to excite us to conformity to his will. Nor is the appeal less powerful to our fears and our hopes. The promises
of God as conditional, serve to give to fear on the one hand
and to hope on the other, the most effectual operation. They
fix all our anxieties concerning their fulfillment, where they
should be fixed, on ourselves, and leave not one concerning
what God will do. In exact proportion, therefore, to the
strength of our purposes and the measure of our doings, they
give strength to hope and animation to effort. They afford
great consolation. But it is consolation in the path of obedience, and the end of the consolation itself is to refresh and
cheer and animate the pilgrim in his weary way, and thus to
keep him in it to his final rest.
Their fulfillment is certain. How painful for human guilt
and human weakness to be left to mere conjecture on a subject like this! How perplexing, how inoperative is a mere
intimation of what God might do! We want the security and
the efficiency of promise. Here is the energy which alone
can take effect on the despondency of guilt and the weakness of
corruption, and we have it. In respect to what will be done on
the part of him on whom we depend, all becomes certainty, by
the promises, the attributes, the oath of the living God. To
gratitude, that strongest principle of human action, the appeal
made by the divine promises is no less powerful. The being
that is dead to gratitude is hopelessly dead. All that there is
in the abundance and the riches of the promised gifts-all
that there is in being the very object toward which such kindness is directed-all that there is in the most decisive manifestation of earnestness and solicitude to bless, and all that there
is in the quiet confidence and unshaken security that the God
of the promise will fulfill it, is brought in the full play of its
energies upon the soul. Is there a particle of grateful sensibility a it must be touched and moved by the love that beams
upon us in the promises of a covenant God. Thus, throughout
the whole range of moral action, and of human existence,




30  THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY.
there is no duty to which man is not invited-no condition for
which support and consolation are not furnished —no sensibility of the whole inner man which is not addressed by the
promises of a faithful God. He can do nothing for God, he
can suffer nothing for God, for which God will not reward
him. He can feel nothing to excite and regulate and reward,
in which there is not an influence from God. Tlhus surrounded
by the fullness of God, encircled by the pledges of his favorthus invited, urged and constrained by the riches of his gifts,
with what a mighty energy is man impelled to consecrate
himself, soul and body, to the service of his Maker!
4. The same tendency is apparent from the number and
magnitude of the blessings promised. Of these we cannot
attempt an adequate account. We may say that nothing
can be added.  For all things are comprised in the covenant of promise.  "All things are yours, whether Paul
or Apollos or Cephas, or the world, or life or death, or
things present, or things to come, all are yours, and ye are
Christ's; and Christ is God's." We may say the grant includes all that the infinite God can do for the well-being of
man; that it far surpasses all human comprehension and
thought. It is the breadth, and length, and depth, and height
of the love of Christ which passeth knowledge, which is concerned for the believer's interests-it is that he may know this
by experience, arid that he may be filled with all the fullness
of God, that God has made a covenant with him. It is pardon, grace, and eternal glory. It is pardon. It is cancelling
the debt of guilt and eternal condemnation, with deliverance
from hell and restoration to the acceptance and friendship of
man's offended Sovereign, and thus offering to the benevolence
of God a way of access to guilty men, whereby it is as free to
expatiate and pour its blessings upon him as had he never
sinned. It is grace-grace to sanctify, sustain and comfort,
to guide, to strengthen and keep-grace to recover man fallen
through apostasy from God, to his original destiny in character
and happiness-grace to animate by love, to invigorate by




THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY. 31
faith, to gladden with victories over sin and death and hellgrace to remove each trace of moral deformity from the soul,
and replace there the perfect likeness of God —grace to give
the cheerfulness of hope and the joys of triumph at God's
judgment-seat-grace by which we behold with open face as in
a glass the glory of the Lord, and are changed into the same
image from glory to glory. It is eternal glory-glory in
heaven-glory in that perfect purity and divine excellence
which adorns the saved in God's immediate presence-glory
in that assimilation to God and his Son which makes us one
with them-glory in that communion of affection and that
fellowship of activity with God and the full assembly of angels
and the redeemed-glory on that throne of glory with the
palm of victory and crown of life-glory in those ecstasies of
the rapt spirit with songs to him that sitteth on the throne
and to the Lamb-glory in that endless progress of perfection
and bliss, rising from the thrones of angels and arch-angels by
an endless approximation toward an absolute likeness to God
himself. Thus is heaven opened to man by the promises
of God; thus is all there is in heaven, all there is in God,
all there is in the universe, concentered and poured upon the
heart of man by the promises of the immutable God. For
what? To allure him " to be a partaker of the divine nature"
-the holiness of God.
REMARES.
1. We see the error of those who aim to derive comfort only
from the divine promises. There are those who rest their
hopes on faith without works, regarding the promises of God
as ample security for every blessing, without obedience. To
say nothing of the prostration of the divine law thus involved-the law of which it was said, "Till heaven and earth
pass one jot or one tittle shall in no wise pass till all be
fulfilled"-the notion is a direct and palpable perversion
of the very promises of God, which are pleaded as its




32 THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY.
warrant. Where is the promise of life except to patient
continuance in well-doing?  Do you say the promise is to
faith?  True, but to what faith?  "Faith without works is
dead being alone." True, the promise is to faith, but it
is to faith in its true nature and appropriate operations.
It is the faith whose fruit is unto holiness, whose end is
everlasting life. Away then with this fearful perversion
of the grace of the Gospel. Its exceeding great and precious
promises are given to promote practical holiness. Woe to
him who makes them a warrant for dispensing with that holiness, and for securing its hopes and consolations to those who
remain in the gall of bitterness and bonds of iniquity.
Others there are who make the application of the promises
to depend on the belief of their own personal interest in them,
as if to believe one's self to be interested in the promises of
God really made us so.  This perversion is equally gross.
The promises of God given to promote holiness, and made to
nothing but holiness, do these secure an interest in their blessings to him who has no holiness? Does man secure such an
interest, because he believes he has an interest in them, when
he has not? Because he believes a lie, is that lie changed into
truth? Beware, my brethren, of errors like these. Any use of
the promises of God which excludes their sanctjfying:influence is to pervert them to your eternal undoing.
There is yet another error nearly allied to these, and still
more common. There are those who though they deny not
that the only warrant for-the hopes of the Gospel is obedience
to the Gospel, yet seem practically to disregard the conviction. Their concern is to discover the evidence of an interest
in the promises, rather than to create that evidence, by increasin.g their holiness. Their chief design is to apply the
promises, while the chief design of God is to secure the practical influence of the promises. Their great concern is about
the fulfillment of the promises in their own case; God's is
that they comply with the condition of their fulfillment; his
purpose is that they should render obedience to his precepts,




THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY. 33
and thus, so to speak, take the comfort of his promises made
to such obedience as they go along; that the evidence of an
interest in his promises to obedience, and the comfort and the
hopes authorized by his promises, should co-exist. And here
unquestionably is the reason why so many Christians are unable, as they say, to apply the promises. They have more
solicitude to enjoy the comforts of the promises than to render
the obedience to which the promises are made. If any of you,
my brethren, know this to be your case, I would say to you,
be not so anxious for comfort; be not so concerned for your
hope, be not always exploring your past experience to find
comfort in that, by applying the promises. Rather give yourself up to the sanctifying influence of God's promises. Let
that weight and pressure of motive which these present, come
in upon your heart to waken you to holy obedience; be zealous, be active, be laborious, steadfast, immovable, always
abounding in the work of the Lord, and you will have comfort enough and hope enough. There will be no difficulty in
applying the promises of God in such a course. To such a
course they are made, and they will Ineet you at every step
in it, with all their fullness of blessing.
2. How great are the obligations of the people of God to
holy obedience. IHad God required obedietlce by the mere
sanction of law, by the weight of his authority and the penalty, none could deny or doubt their obligation. Indeed, that
lie has qualified man to become a partaker of the divine
nature, to become like himself in moral character, is enough
in itself to prompt to a conformity so exalted, so divine. But
what shall we say of our obligations when we reflect that we
are invited and urged to the adoption of such a character by
the promised blessings of the covenant of God. Think what
they are,-blessings of infinite value and extent, blessings
temporal and spiritual, present and eternal, for the soul and
the body. Whatever can be useful or desirable to them as
immortal beings —whatever God himself can give-are comprised in the promises of his love; yea, himself, the sum of
2*                                      x




34  THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MBAKE MEN HOLY.
all good, the overflowing fountain, the inexhaustible ocean
whence every stream of joy flows, he promises to them as their
everlasting possession.
To this boundless good, what security is given in these
promises? The unchangeable truth of the unchangeable God
is that security, and all is certainty. With what repose and
peace and confidence may the guilty creature man, rely for
the fulfillment of what a faithful God has promised. Oh, what
is it to regard one's self as interested in promises like these;
what is it for him to look through time and onward to eternity, and to behold these promises advancing to a regular,
ceaseless, certain accomplishment in his own behalf; throughout his never-ending being? And what are the obligations of
such an heir of promise, so lately an heir of hell? Can he
slight them-can he resist them? My brethren, have we an
interest in these promises?-are we looking to their fulfillment
in us?-are we expecting the infinite God to do for us what
he has engaged to do for his people? Is that God whose truth
is as the great mountains, and whose faithfulness endureth forever, the promiser —and are his promises the charter of our
hopes?  Is this our anticipated inheritance —that God will
do for us all he has promised to the heirs of his salvation?
What then shall we render to the Lord for all his benefits?
Shall we not present our bodies as living sacrifices, holy and
acceptable to God-is not this our reasonable service?  Is
God so solicitous to sanctify and bless us as to give these exceeding great and precious promises? iHas he thus opened to
us all the treasures of his own benevolence, and by all this
power of motive, summoned us to perfect holiness in his fear?
To whom then, shall we live if not to him? We have the
seal of his promises, the blood of the everlasting covenant.
Doubt not then the stability of that covenant. On God's
part it is immutable, like himself. Ratify it on yours, and all
is safe. Here indeed you may be tried and often walk in
darkness, but soon you shall know what it is for God to fulfill
what God has promised. On Mount Zion, in the songs and




THE PROMISES DESIGNED TO MAKE MEN HOLY.  35
ecstasies of salvation, you shall know and feel-yea, all hell
and heaven too shall confess —that he has not deceived you.
The reality shall displace every doubt, and show that what
God hath said, God hath done.
3. How unhappy the condition of those who derive no influence from the promises of God. There are those on whom
these high and holy motives have no sanctifying power, and
of course no consoling influence. They leave the cold and
stubborn heart free from every holy affection, every devout
aspiration, every joyful hope which the God of mercy has
thus aimed to awaken in the bosom of guilty man! What
degradation is this? To remain so insensible to these designs of
God's mercy —to cherish such a sordid love of the world, as to
counteract all the holy, cheering influence of the promises of
God, and after the fullness of blessing thus proffered, and
the prospects which they open to his hopes, to be left
through the love of sin, with no prospect before him but that
of a dark and woeful damnation!
]My dear friends, can you consent thus to live and die, to go
through your whole probation blessed with such proffers from
the God of grace-voluntary exiles from his love and friendship, without God and without hope, and thus poor, miserably
poor for time and eternity, to reject the blessings, which
by the promises, the oath of God, you are invited to accept.
Oh, without these blessings, if you have no faith in God, all
hope will expire, no mercy can be asked, and forsaken, friendless, an outcast from all good, you must be plunged into the
realities of eternity, hopeless of love, hopeless of the least
good from the God of eternity. Oh, fellow-sinner, open your
eyes once upon the vision of Christian promise, the inheritance
of God's covenant-accept the offered grace, and all things
are yours, things present and things to come.




III.
THE BETTER COUNTRY.
HEBREWS Xi. 16.
"But now they desire a better country, that is, an heavenly."
IT is one obvious design of the revelation of God to gild the
scenes of this fading and transitory world with bright visions
of everlasting glory beyond it. This life is represented as a
pilgrimage-heaven as our home; and we are summoned to
set our affections on things above and not on things on the
earth. Nor is that world held out to the people of God as an
uncertain possession, but as an inheritance secured by the
promises of eternal truth; not as an inadequate reward for
the service required to obtain it, but as a gift which will bespeak the bounty of the Giver.
Such were the anticipations of those ancient worthies,
spoken of by the apostle in the text. "These all died in
faith"-i. e., Abraham and those who were heirs with him of
the same promise; "not having received the promises, but
having seen them afar off, and were persuaded of them, and
embraced them, and confessed that they were strangers and
pilgrims on the earth."  " For," as the apostle adds, "they
that say such things declare plainly that they seek a country.
And truly, if they had been mindful of that country from
whence they came out, they might have had opportunity to
have returned. But now they desire a better country-that
is, an heavenly; wherefore God is not ashamed to be called
THEIR GOD; for HE hath prepared for them a city."
The text in its connection is designed to present to us the
manner in which the Christian in the exercise of lively faith




THE BETTER COUNTRY.                    37
regards heaven. To this subject I would now call the attention of my audience in the following particulars:
I. The Christian in the exercise of lively faith practically
regards heaven as a reality. There is an assent to what the
saints declare concerning a future world of happiness, which
brings no definite image of the object to the mind, and makes
no practical impression on the heart. Thousands there are
who will acquiesce in the truth of all that we say, and in
some sense in all God says, of that world, and yet remain as
anxious about this world and as indifferent about that which
is to come, as if they believed the very reverse of what is said
to be true —as if earth were the only reality, and heaven and
all it contains a shadow. Now it is the nature and influence
of faith to reverse this practical estimate of things. " Faith
is the substance of things hoped for, the evidence of things not
seen."  Faith in the mind gives to its object the substance
and weight of reality. When heaven is its object, heaven to
that mind is reality, not less truly than the objects of sense
that here surround us. Instead of that state of mind which
can receive vivid impressions only from material and sensible
things, there is another state of mind-that which gives reality
to things unseen. As faith in man's testimony can make us
think, and feel, and act, as if there was such a place as London, so faith in God's testimony can make us think, and feel,
and act, as if there was such a place as heaven. The mind
can bring itself under the same conviction, that there is a
God, as that there are such beings as men; the same conviction that God has testified of the invisible realities of another
world, as we have, that men tell us of things we have never
seen; and the same conviction that what God says is reality,
as we have that what men say is real. Indeed, we have only
to get rid of those mental perversions, which sin occasions,
our sloth, our worldliness, our absorption in vanity, and to
come to the testimony of God, as ready to believe him as we
are to believe one another, and we should have the same full,
practical conviction of heaven and its realities, as we should,




38             THE BETTER COUNTRY.
were every saint and angel now to come and tell us, "It is
just what the Bible says it is, for we have seen it all."  Such
is faith. When we give up the mind to God's testimony, as
we give it up to man's testimony, then we have faith in God
-the faith that gives reality to what IHe testifies.
Faith, then, brings heaven in view, opens its gates, and
looks in upon its glories. It sees the order, the harmony, the
purity, and the joys of blessed spirits made perfect; it sees
the Redeemer of men in exaltation there, and God in that fullness of his glory which imparts to heaven its raptures. Earth
with heaven thus realized to the mind retires into the background of contemplation, and sinks away into comparative
obscurity. Its honors fade, its pleasures wither, its pomp
vanishes, even its sufferings appear but for a moment, and the
soul is swallowed up in that eternal weight of glory which is
set before it. Such is the power of faith, and in proportion to
its degree in the children of God, it strips the world of that
imposing aspect of reality which hides from man every thing
on the other side of time; it reduces it to its true character of
a phantom, and brings the heaven of God's revelation near
enough to make us realize that there is such a world; and we
think, and feel, and act, and suffer, and live, and die, under
the impression of its reality.
II. Faith leads the Christian to regard heaven as a satisfying portion. The man of the world looks not beyond this
life for happiness. Exclusively devoted to schemes of earthly
enjoyment, his cares and desires and efforts center in their accomplishment. When the sun of prosperity shines bright, he
is at rest, he has all that his heart can wish. So had the rich
man, when he said, "Soul, take thine ease."  But alas! on
what sand these hopes are built! Every such man is cheating
himself with the dream, that that will prove real which the
living God has pronounced hopeless. What if worldly prospects are the brightest, God has pronounced a curse on the
world, and behold the reverses which it brings. Friends dieneighbors become enemies-children bring down our gray




THE BETTER COUNTRY.                  39
hairs with sorrow to the grave-splendor palls on the sight —
losses and disappointments follow-health decays-diseases
and pains torment the frame, and the boasted Babel of human
bliss crumbles into melancholy ruin. Not so with the Christian. By faith he is led to see by contrast with heaven, how
vain this world is, and to abandon it as his portion. True, he
does not refuse-he gratefully receives-the blessings which
Divine goodness provides for him. But then, he does not look
to them as his portion; he does not regard them as essential
to his happiness. He habitually looks beyond these, and regards his treasure as laid up in another world. This world
may pour its gifts upon hinm in rich profusion, but heaven is
not forgotten. He is a pilgrim and stranger, and though he
travel through a country smiling with verdure and beauty, he
still values his home in the heavens. He remembers its joys,
and scarcely prizes them less than were the scene around
covered with desolation, and his path planted with thorns.
The same principle leads him to form a just estimate of the
trials of life. Shocks severe to nature may be received; and
though not without emotion, yet not with despair, not with
repining. In the world he expects tribulation: When he
mourns, it is not without hope. He does not feel under the
sorest bereavement that all is lost. Nay, rather estimating
the afflictions of time as he is taught to estimate them by his
heavenly Father, he knows he has lost nothing. His sufferings are but the chastisement of a paternal hand, and any
thing that promotes his fitness for the world of his hopes can
be welcomed as a blessing. His journey may be dreary and
toilsome —darkness may surround him-difficulties, and dangers, and trials may infest his way-but his consolation is, all
this will soon be over, and he shall then be at home. Shall
he then be dejected, because in the journey of a day, the accommodations of the road are defective? Shall he feel that
all is lost, because the lodging-place for a night is uncomfortable? No. He rather hastens onward, and presses toward
his object with greater eagerness. He thinks not of taking up




40          -  THE BETTER COUNTRY.
his abode in a land of strangers, of enemies, and of want. He
seeks a better country.  There, will be no disappointment.
I-eaven will afforld all the happiness his soul desires. "Already
he kens its hills of salvation, where reigns eternal day, and
where everlasting spring abides."  Gird thyself, then, O my
soul! and hold on thy course.  Heaven will make ample
amends for all the toils and sufferings of the way to it.
III. Faith leads to ardent desires and cheerful expectations
of heavenly happiness. Amid all the hopes of heavenly happiness cherished in this world, there is but little just conception of the nature of that happiness. All hope to go to heaven
when they die, and to be happy there. But few inquire what
heaven is, in what its happiness consists, and what qualifies
for its enjoyment. Their hope is a vague, undefined hope of
deliverance from dreaded evil. It has no warrant but their
own wishes-wishes fixed, to say the least, with equal strength
on continuance in sin, as on exemption from its punishment.
In those exercises which are spiritual and holy, and which
will constitute the happiness of heaven, their own consciousness tells them that they find no delight, but rather disgust
and weariness. Thus the very nature of heaven debars a
worldly mind from all joy in the contemplation of it. A Mohammedan paradise would be thought of and desired with far
more intense and delightful emotion.
Not so with the Christian. Between his taste and the nature
of heavenly happiness there is a holy correspondence. Heaven
is just such a heaven as he desires and loves to think of. His
soul in its affections and tastes accords with the pure and holy
joys of that world, and his meditations of them are sweet.
The Christian desires heaven as a place of perfect freedom
from sin and of perfection in holiness. It is indeed, a delightful thought to the Christian that in heaven there will be an
end to all evil-that pain, and sickness, and death will be no
more-that " God will wipe away all tears from their eyes."
But it is a still more delightful thought that there, sin shall be
no more. Here, sin is felt to be his greatest calamity. It is




THE BETTER COUNTRY.                   41
sin which causes his deepest sorrows; it is sill which invades
his peace; it is sin which overcasts his prospects with doubt
and gloom; it is sin which costs him. so many prayers, and
struggles, and tears, and causes him to exclaim,"' O0 wretched
man that I am, who shall deliver me from the body of this
death?" There he knows every cause of sin will be removed;
there will remain no corrupt and deceitful heart to betray and
ensnare the soul; no evil world to tempt; no adversary to deceive; no cessation of Divine influence on the soul; no lanmentation for the falsehood, and treachery, and worldliness, and
pride of a wicked heart. There he shall reach the consummation of his wishes, his prayers, and his labors in the purity of
heaven.  He prizes heaven for this, for he knows the anguish
of a broken heart. I-le knows what it is to sin against God;
what it is, in all the baseness of ingratitude, to wound the
Saviour that bled and died for him; and he knows what it is
to mourn in heaviness and with weeping for this worst of evils.
But there God will wipe away these tears.
Not less dear to the Christian is heaven as a place of perfect
holiness. Those who know not the happiness arising from this
source by experience may form no adequate conceptions of it.
But the Christian knows enoyugh of it to know that religionthat holiness is happiness. I-e knows that perfect holiness is the
perfection of his immortal nature; that it is a refined and holy
happiness only which is suited to spiritual beings, and that
without it the disembodied spirit must be poor and wretched.
This is the happiness which springs from the union of the soul
with God, from uniformity of the will with his will, from
fellowship with him in all the affections, and feelings, and purposes of the soul, and from bearing his perfect image. I-Iappiness arises from a frame of soul suited to its object, and is great
in proportion to the capacity to receive and the power of the
object to impart it. WVhen the soul, therefore, in most exalted
state becomes perfect —when every faculty, affection, and sensibility are brought into perfect unison with the infinite and
uncreated source of all good-its happiness must be the most




42             THE BETTER COUNTRY.
pure and perfect. God, the ever-blessed God, knows no other.
This is that state of perfection, of moral exaltation, in which
what gives pleasure to God, gives pleasure to the creature; in
which there is a participation in the same feelings-in which
the soul drinks at the same fountain, and in which the character and the bliss of God become the character and the bliss of
his creatures. Such is the heaven the Christian desires. HIe
looks to it as the place where the: rays of the Deity will be
softened to his inspection, where, surrounded with his glory,
every desire will expire in the bosom of his God, and where,
in the triumphs of perfect holiness, God's own blessedness will
become the portion of his soul.
Inseparable from all this are the desires of the Christian for
the society and the employments of heaven with its more
particular sources of happiness. The society of that world
will be made up of an innumerable company of angels, and of
redeemed men from "all nations, and kindreds, and people,
and tongues." Of this bright host of happy spirits he hopes
to be one. He has been taught what the interest is which
angels take in man's well-being. He has been told of their
song when the Redeemer came, of their joy when a sinner repents, and of their sympathies and kindness as ministering
spirits to the heirs of salvation; and he knows with what
warmth of affection they will welcome him to their blissful
society above; with what transport they will lead him up to
the throne of God and the Lamb, and point him to the surrounding glories of his eternal abode; with what joy they will
relate, and he hear, the account of their embassies of love,
while he was here training for heaven, and how, with a
voice as the sound of many waters and the voice of mighty
thunderings, they will strike the chorus of his eternal song.
There, too, he expects to meet all the pious, redeemed from
among men,-those with whom he has prayed and suffered
and taken sweet counsel in this vale of tears. There he hopes
to be re-united to those pious friends, if such he had  a husband, wife, parent, child-who have gone before or shall come




THE BETTER COUNTRY.                  43
after him;-there, as a minister, the seals of his ministry and
crowns of his rejoicing; and there those who, under God,
brought him back from sin and ruin to all this blessedness;
there patriarchs and prophets, apostles and martyrs, the pious
Baxters and Newtons and Edwardses who have taught him
by their writings and animated him by their example; there
those rich monuments of grace, who, like Saul of Tarsus, once
breathed out threatening and slaughter against the Lord, now
shouting the praises of redeeming love; there all those whose
hearts have been renewed and sins forgiven, —all those who as
laborers together with God are accomplishing his designs of
mercy in this guilty world;-all these he hopes to meet as
friends and companions forever. In that world where the
collisions of interest, the jealousies, the envyings, and the evil
passions which deform this world, shall be unknown, he hopes
to be united to them in spotless purity, in the most tender
benignity and active love, and with one heart of gratitude and
song of praise to that God and Saviour whose throne they encircle. What has this selfish world to compare with intercourse like this, where every mind thus shines with light and
every heart thus glows with love? In such society the Christian hopes to spend his eternity.
Not less delightful to him is the anticipation of the employments of heaven. These consist in active beneficence and in
the pure and perfect worship of God. God has established a
system of instrumentality, by which is produced, and will be
forever, all the happiness of his holy kingdom. The grand
principle on which it all depends is, that it is more blessed to
give than to receive. Be the amount of happiness communicated what it may, greater still is the amount in performing
the act of communication. Now heaven is a world of beneficence, of whose machinery of blessedness this principle is the
mainspring-the animating, sustaining principle of its motions
and all their results. In other words, heaven is a practical
comment on this truth-that to do good is the highest happiness of which any being is capable. God is the great foun



r44            THE  BETTER COUNTRY.
tain of this blessedness; and the united activity of all holy
beings are streams of good-universal, unceasing, and immortal. No selfish affection deforms or contracts or limits
the benevolence of that world. Every mind is expanded with
affections embracing universal good. To this object every
eye is turned; to advance it every heart thrills, every hand is
devoted. No wonder that this world of sorrow is visited by
ministering spirits from that, nor yet if other worlds and systems should call them thither on the same errands of kindness.
And who can tell the amount of that happiness which shall
be the result of such a system of being, as it shall continually
increase and extend with the growing ages of eternity, and
continually proclaim the capacity of God to bless? There to fly
on angel's wings in executing God's commandments in the
communication of good, is the employment in which the
Christian hopes to bear a part in the world of spirits.
Another principal employment in heaven is the worship of
God. In almost every glimpse afforded us of that world, we
find the angels and the spirits of just men made perfect, bowing with adoration and praise before the throne of the Eternal.
Every thing we hear is the voice of thanksgiving-the universal burst of gratitude and wonder and love, in songs of joy
and transport, filling all its arches and making all its pillars
tremble. To such a world God invites his children to direct,
and to such a world they have directed their desires and hopes.
Even in this world they often spend their sweetest hours in
coming before the throne of God as his worshipers.  H-Tere
they have been wont to come that they might adore the eternal Majesty-that they might derive new and deeper impressions of his Godhead-that new purposes of obedience might
rise and strengthen in the soul-that they might taste anew
the joys of pardoned sin, and fall at the feet and celebrate the
love and mercy of their Saviour. And they know enough of
the pleasures of this employment, to know that heaven would
be no heaven to them without it. They long for heaven to
know what heaven it would be with it. What it would be




THE BETTER COUNTRY.                   45
to stand before that throne of God, —there to behold the
unveiled glories of his face, and cry, under a full impression
of the reality, "Holy, holy, holy, Lord God Almighty, who
was, and is, and is to come;"-what it would be to behold
their once crucified but now reigning Saviour-what it would
be, after having loved and served him here below, to be admitted into his immediate presence, to learn while enjoying
the bliss of heaven what that Saviour has done to confer that
bliss upon them. Oh how will the beaming kindness and love
of Jesus waken the soul to the liveliest transports of gratitude
and joy, and call forth the song, "Worthy is the Lamb that was
slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and strength,
and honor, and glory, and blessing; for thou wast slain, and
hast redeemed us to God by thy blood."
It is this song, with the emotions which prompt it, that will
give the most ecstatic charm to their immortality, and cause
the joy of heaven to be full. That he may adore, and love,
and praise, and serve God his Saviour, the Christian longs for
heaven.
R E M AR KS.
1. What support under the trials of life, has the Christian
in the exercise of lively faith? What if the world deceives
and disappoints his hopes, heaven is a reality.  What if
poverty with its evils afflicts and depresses, a rich and a
heavenly inheritance is his portion. What if the world afflicts
in any shape, how light must appear all its trials and sufferings with the prospect of eternal glory ever dawning on the
soul! One view of that glory realized by faith and appropriated by hope, will have an inconceivable influence on its
possessor. It will arm him with the fortitude of a martyr; it
will invigorate with the strength of an angel-the strength of
faith and love. It will impart such support as the blessed
apostle felt when no sufferings could move him. It will elevate the soul with gratitude and devotion unspeakably great,




46             THE BETTER COUNTRY.
for it will be gratitude and devotion awakened by the hope of
heaven. It will render all earthly joys and sufferings vain,
for, weighed in the scale with heaven, they are lighter than
vanity. Let us then, my brethren, break off our affections
from the earth, and believe what God hath told us of that
world of blessedness. Let us fasten our hold on heaven, and
then let this earth go as it may; let its bitterest cup be given
us; let its heaviest stroke light on us; yea, let the last conflict come-we shall be able to say, "All is well; heaven is
my home."
2. We may see why Christians derive so little present consolation from the prospect of future happiness, which the
Bible reveals. It is not that the reality of such a world is not
sufficiently evinced to their understandings-it is not, that
there is not enough in it as an anticipated possession to cheer
and gladden every step of their earthly pilgrimage. It is that
their affections are still so strongly fixed on the world, that their
conceptions of happiness are in such a degree confined to the
enjoyments which earth can give. With such a state of mind,
it is impossible that they should see heaven in that aspect of
reality, and of course with those desires and expectations
which elevate the soul above this world. The beaming glories
of heaven cannot dawn on such a mind. The influence fiom
things present is so strong, that the heart is but faintly touched
by things eternal. These are in a manner hid by intervening
objects, and removed into distant and dark obscurity. How
can the vivid impressions of faith, the lively anticipations
of hope, and the longings of desire touch the mind whose
vision is bounded by time! My brethren, if we would know
the consolations of regarding heaven as a reality, of looking
forward to it as a satisfying portion, of anticipating its purity
and joys, we must think so little of the world, place so little
dependence on it, and form such low expectations from it,
that we can think of heaven-that we can believe there is a
heaven-that we can be satisfied with heaven, and long for
and desire heaven as it is. It is in vain that God has told us




THE BETTER COUNTRY.                  47
there is such a world of joy —it is in vain that God by his invitations and promises, and Jesus by his blood, have been thus
concerned to remove our doubts and anxieties, and cheer our
dark and gloomy pilgrimage with the bright visions of that
glory-it will be no heaven to us; we must turn our eyes that
way; we must tear away these evils of materialism which hide
or obscure our prospect, make heaven a reality, and fondly
and intently dwell on the contemplation of it as our home.
3. The Christian desires heaven as the world in which
God's glory- his capacity to bless his moral creation-will be
fully displayed. " When the earthly house of this tabernacle
is dissolved, he looks for a city which hath foundations, whose
builder and maker is God." The visible universe around us
discloses the glory of God, and so distinctly, as to take away
all excuse from those who do not glorify Him as God. In
that world, there shall be not merely such a manifestation of
God as creates moral responsibility and renders disobedience
inexcusable-not merely such a display of God as can be made
through a material creation, or even in the happiness of ilmperfectly sanctified minds, but such a manifestation to perfectly pure and holy beings as is involved in the relation OF
THEIR GOD. It is not an earthly country, but a heavenly" wherefore, God is not ashamed to be called THEIR GOD: for
he hath prepared for them a city." That world shall tell the
full glory of the great Architect who made it for them, and
made it to show himself THEIR GOD. There, all that is comprehensive in the wisdom of God shall be revealed, without
a cloud to obscure it, in the view of the happy beings assembled to behold it. There, the glory of his power is seen in removing every evil-in creating every good-in enlarging the
capacity of creatures for purer and higher joys-in lavishing
to bless, the wonders of Omnipotence upon them. There,
the glories of his justice, the terror of hell, shall shine
as the pledge and security of the everlasting perfection of the
holy. There, the holiness of God in all its luster will beam
forth to illuminate every mind and transform it into his own




48             THE BETTER COUNTRY.
image from glory to glory. There, will be seen the glory of
his goodness, pouring its eternal tide of blessedness, and telling
all in the ecstasies of heaven that " God is love." In a word,
there all the attributes of the Deity are fully expressed; the
glory scattered throughout the universe will be collected as in
a sun, making that world the scene of his glories. And there,
with an emphasis which the reality only can give to the inspired thought, it will be seen and felt by all in heaven, that
"God is not ashamed to be called THEIR GOD: for he hath prepared for them a city."
By faith the Christian is transported to these happy regions,
and walks with God. Thither he directs his thoughts and
his desires, as the place where he shall see God as he is-God
as his God, —thoughts and desires to be terminated in reality
when he treads the threshold of eternity and saith, " Lo, this
is my God; I have waited for him, and he hath saved me."
To conclude. WVe all hope for heaven; we believe it to be
a world of unspeakable happiness, and we fondly hope, when
death shall take us away from this world, to be admitted
to the joys of that. But have we seriously and carefully examined the foundation of these hopes?  Have we inquired
what heaven is-what its happiness is-what we must be to
be qualified to enjoy it? Do we give-are we willing to give,
in our habitual views, that reality to heaven which makes
this world comparatively nothing to us? Do we so look to it
as our grand and only inheritance, as to displace the world
from our supreme affections? And is it the freedom from sin
-is it the perfect holiness-is it the bright manifestation of
God-is it the holy society-is it the holy employments and
the holy joys of that world which endear it to us? Is it such
a heaven that awakens our desires, and is the object of our
hopes? These are questions which must be answered.
Some there are, I trust, who can answer them in the afflrmative. They may indeed regret that their faith is so weak,
their desires so faint, and their hopes so fluctuating. Often
may they complain that their fears exceed their hopes, and




THE BETTER COUNTRY.                  49
sigh for clearer and brighter discoveries of that world of light,
and joy, and holiness. They long for such a heaven. They
expect no other. Are there any such before me?  I would
say, faint not. This conformity of affection to God, to Christ,
to angels and redeemed spirits-these desires for heaven-are
preparing you to partake of its blessedness. You are now on
your pilgrimage. You wander in a vale of tears. Temptations, and sorrows, and sins await you. But your portion is
not here.  Your treasure is not here.  You seek a better
country. Think often of the glorious prize. Consider who is
your conductor, and to what he is conducting you. He who
made heaven knows the true sources of bliss, and he it is who
will give you heaven. While you pursue the path of holiness,
you are in the road to heaven. Ieaven is already begun
within you —heaven already dawns on the soul. Soon its full
glories shall burst on your enraptured sight. Your spiritual
joys, so often interrupted and so faint, shall be constant, full,
eternal. One spirit shall reign through heaven; one song
employ every tongue. From glory to glory you shall be
changed. You shall be like Jesus, and near his throne. You
shall see him as he is, and God shall be all in all, forever and
ever.
It is now with painful emotion that I turn to another class
of my audience. Alas, there are many whose hopes of heaven
are mere delusion. They dream of being happy there, when
the eternal God has declared except they be born again they
cannot see his kingdom, and when their own consciences tell
them tlhatthey have not been born again, —they dream of
happiness in heaven without knowing or caring to know what
heaven is,-when they know that the very elements of heaven,
the joys that arise from love to God from  the exercise of
pure and spiritual affections, from prayer and praise and ready
obedience, are to thenl irksome and disgusting.
And, my dear friends, is it possible that with such a state of
mind you could be happy in heaven? Would not a religion
made up of the faith and the hopes and the anticipations of
3                                        4




50            THE BETTER COUNTRY.
such a heaven as the Bible reveals, spoil all your present enjoyments?
What then is there in heaven to bless you? God you do
not love; Christ you do not love; angels and redeemed men
you do not love. To see God is not your desire; to behold the
Saviour who has died for you, to be like him, to praise him,
is not your desire. In the society of that world you could not
be happy-in its employments you could not engage,-its
songs you could not sing. The God who reigns there you hate;
the Saviour whose love and mercy calls forth the echoing
songs of gratitude and salvation, you despise. No —there is not
an ecstasy felt there which you could feel; not a note in the
eternal song which you could sing. How could you bear
to stand before the God whom you hate, and endure the
blaze of his glory?- No. Amid that holy, happy throng you
would feel yourself to be a forsaken, solitary outcast; and
amid all its joys you would sink and wither as under a continual sense of dissolution. Instead of uniting in the hallelujahs of that world, your cry would be-" Fly, 0 my soul, fiom
this place of torment, heaven is hell to me;" and yet you hope
for heaven! and are quietly expecting to be happy there!




PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON.
ACTS xvi. 25.
"And at midnight Paul and Silas prayed and sang praises unto God, and the prisoners heard them."
THE Christian looks beyond this world for complete happiness. Yet while here on earth he has something which the
world can neither give nor take away. Deprive him of all that
which ministers to the comfort and happiness of worldly men,
and the loss of which will make them wretched, and still he is
happy. We have a striking example of this in the text. We
here are pointed to the gloom of a prison, and see two of our
fellow-beings, the objects of the scorn and hatred of the world,
friendless, poor and destitute, shut up in its inmost cell, their
feet made fast in the stocks, and their backs torn with the
scourge. They are awake at the midnight hour, and their
voices are heard by those who are near them. Are they then
recounting their trials and sufferings, mourning and repining
under their hardships, execrating the tyranny of their judges,
and the cruelty of their executioners? No; it is the voice of
prayer, and songs, and praise that resounds through the dungeon. Wretched and forlorn as their condition appears, they
are happy; they are singing praises with a loud voice to God.
Though we are not exposed to the same trials which these
men endured, yet even in the height of prosperity something
is wanting. The richest abundance of sensual gratification
leaves a void which the world can never fill.
What then can make us happy in any condition, or under
any circumstances   We answer-that which made Paul and




b2          PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON.
Silas so happy in the prison at Philippi. These holy men had
neither worldly resources nor hopes. But they had an inward
joy, which external trials and sufferings could not prevent
from overflowing in songs of praise, in that hour of darkness
and suffering.
The same sources of support and joy are open to every real
Christian. Let us, then, examine them for our edification and
comfort.
I. One source of their happiness was their comparative estimate of what they gained, with what they lost. It is by such
comparisons that we form our estimate of almost every condition in human life. In this world, that is reasonably esteemed
an eligible condition in which the good to be enjoyed far outweighs the evil to be endured. That loss is trifling, which still
leaves its possessor abundantly furnished with the means of
enjoyment, while the same loss would be deeply grievous to
him who by it has lost his all. To judge, therefore, correctly
of one's loss, we must bring into the account what still remains. What then was the case of these prisoners? Had
they lost all? Far fiom it. What still remained in their possession? Blessings so great, so rich, that all earthly blessings
put together were comparatively nothing. Blessings so great,
that no worldly loss could lessen them-so rich, that no
worldly loss could impair them.  Were they in prison-it
was not the prison of death. Were they in chains-they still
possessed the liberty of the sons of God. Did they endure the
pains of the lashli —they had peace which passeth all understanding. Etlad they no hopes from the world-they had the
hope of eternal glory. And who that was partaker of these
blessings would count it insupportable hardship to bear a little
contempt and pain?  Who that possessed millions would
grieve at the loss of a penny? Thus the apostles regarded
their condition. Faith opened to them new views, and gave
them a different estimate of things from. that which the men
of this world form. It was not this world, but the world to
coine-not man, but God-not the body, but the soul-not




PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON.                53
time, but eternity, which they thought of. When, therefore,
we hear them say, "As sorrowful, yet always rejoicing; as
having nothing, yet possessing all things," their language is
intelligible. The mystery is explained. Their faith brought
spiritual blessings, eternal blessings near, and, placing them
by the side of earthly blessings, enabled them to form some
just estimate of both. Thus their afflictions, their worldly
hopes, seemed light and trifling compared with the glory
which awaited them. The former were so small by comparison as to be nothing; the latter so great as to be every thing.
II. These men were happy in the assurance that their sufferings were the means of great good. They were taught to regard suffering not only as inseparably connected with the
crown of glory, in the presence of God, but as the appointed
means of the preparation to wear it —the appointed means of
growth in grace. The very first of blessings in their estimation was to have sin subdued in their hearts, and the image of
Christ more fully enstamped on the soul. They therefore rejoiced; they gloried in tribulation because " tribulation worketh
patience, patience experience, and experience hope"-that
"hope which maketh not ashamed, because the love of God is
shed abroad in the heart by the Holy Ghost"-love to Godthat pure, holy, heavenly principle, that can make a heaven.
They regarded their afflictions of a dungcol or a palace as the
chastisements of their heavenly Father, laid upon them for
their profit, that they might be partakers of  his holiness. Such
benefits they could not consider as dearly purchased by such
means. They whose great object was to break off their affections from earth —who wished to renounce its pleasures, and to
rise above its allurements-they who ardently desired a growing conformity to their Savionr's likeness, and to be made, in a
fuller measure, partakers of the divine nature, could not but
welcome the means appointed by God to produce these effects.
They knew the divine influence of these means by their own
blessed experience. They found their hearts more and more
purified from  the dross of corrupt affections, their faith




54          PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON.
strengthened, their love for their divine Master and devotedness to his service increased and confirmed more and more.
For this blessing they were willing not only to pray and labor,
but to suffer. They rejoiced in tribulation; they rejoiced in
the darkness of the dungeon, because there every Christian
grace shone purer and brighter. With what sweet aspirations
of praise did this chief of sinners and his companions pour out
their souls for the sanctifying grace of God, and with what
devout fervor implore it in still larger measures? How happy
in the assurance that these things were working together for
their good-to see even in their heaviest trials not the frowns
of God's anger, but only the graver countenance of eternal
love-that every loss, every pain was the means appointed by
divine mercy for perfecting their likeness to Christ!
Did we well understand this, how afflictions tend and are
designed to bring eternity, and God, and heaven near, and
how in this way these things of a moment are making us partakers of God's holiness-did we see them as means to be
worth as much as the end, they would be to us as unspeakably
important as the end itself.
III. Another cause of their happiness was love to him for
whom they suffered.
Love is the strongest passion of the human heart. It is delight in the object loved. What efforts will it not makewhat sufferings will it not endure for the sake of that object?
With what cheerfulness and pleasure does it lead us to act or
suffer? How unhappy would it render us to be deprived of
the opportunity to do either? The tender parent, the affectionate child, and faithful friend well understand the nature
of this principle. In its present and most perfect manner it
warmed the hearts of Paul and Silas. The love of Christ constrained them to act, and to suffer for his sake. Their whole
lives testify in the most decisive language to this. What
things had been gain to them they counted loss for Christ, for
whom they gladly suffered the loss of all things. When arraigned and scourged they departed rejoicing that they were




PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON.                 55
counted worthy to suffer shame for his sake. They took pleasure in reproaches, in necessities, in persecutions, in distresses
for Christ's sake.
It was not a principle of pride and vain glory that animated
these men. It was a flame of disinterested love to Christ: that
glowed in their breasts; —it was that love which extinguishes
every selfish regard; which exalts its object so much that by
the side of it all else is mean and trifling. It was this principle which one of them described when he said, " For me to
live is Christ."  They had no other supreme end to promote
by living-no other reason why they wished to live. They
were ready to be offered, they even longed to depart and be
with Christ. Yet they were willing to abide longer in the
flesh, that Christ might be magnified in their bodies. It was
love to Christ that carried them through all their perils,
and sustained them under all their sufferings. It was this
that levelled every mountain, filled up every valley in their
path; it was love to Christ that renewed their strength-that
lightened their toils and allnost annihilated their sufferings;it was this that turned the dungeon at Philippi into the temnple of God, and brought forth, not the sighing of the prisoner,
but the song of everlasting praise. Oh, mny brethren, what
love to Christ was this!
As intimately connected with their love to Christ, I ought
to mention the great object of these men-the honor and glory
of Christ —as another ground of their happiness. I-ow exclusively their hearts were set on this object, and how nobly
and perseveringly they pursued it, are points known to every
one who is acquainted with their history. Consider the picture drawn by one of them: " God hath set forth us apostles
last, as it were, appointed to death, for we are made a spectacle to the world, to angels, and to men. Even to this present
hour we both hunger and thirst and are naked and are buffetted, and have no certain dwelling-place. We are made as the
filth and offscouring of all things until this day."  Iie adds,
" None of these things move me, neither count I my life dear




56          PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON.
unto me, that I may finish my course with joy and the ministry
which I have received, to testify the gospel of the grace of
God." There is no example on record of a more entire dedication of the whole man to any other object, than this. They
sought not the things which were their own but those which
were Christ's. Ease, pleasure, honor, interest, life were nothing in their view, and Christ was all in all. His honor and
his glory, as displayed in subduing a revolted world to the
obedience of faith, was their object,-on this their heart was
set as supreme. Surrounded by enemies, insulted, deceived,
deserted-in the darkness of a dungeon, in the jaws of deathyou see them calm, cheerful, devoted, rejoicing,-willing to
live, ready to die, to advance it. With a heart thus fixed on
an object which was great and good and glorious enough to
bring the Son of God from heaven-enough to awaken angels
to new songs of praise, and, so to speak, to command the
sweetest and warmest love of God himself-with such an
object occupying their whole souls, they must be happy.
Thus the glory of God their Redeemer darkened every other
object; their own wants dwindled to a point; their own concerns-nay, the universe beside, shrunk to nothing. They
showed a holy and sublime oblivion of themselves, and seemed
absorbed in the effulgence of Deity-lost in the radiant beams
of Jesus' glory. Happy prisoners! Who would not envy
them the possession of joys springing from such a source as
this? Well might they sing praises to God at midnight.
That we may make a profitable use of this subject, let me
call your attention to the following
REMARK S.
1. We see wherein it is true that godliness hath the promise of the life that now is. Real religion in its nature is a rich
source of support and joy in every condition. True it is, that
the humble Christian, while struggling with his corruptions
and his fears-while his knowledge of God is imperfect and




PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON.               57
his faith weak-may for a season sow in tears. But this is to
be ascribed not to religion, but to the want of it; not to the
holiness, but to the remaining depravity of his heart. There
is no viler slander on the religion of the gospel than that it
makes its subjects gloomy and melancholy. Religion gloomy?
— religion make men unhappy?  Who then or where is a
happy man? Compare them; compare the rich, the honorable,
the gay-they who riot in sensual indulgence, who lie on beds
of ivory and stretch themselves on their couches-who chant
to the sound of the viol-with those who know the joys of religion. Look at Paul and Silas in their prison; see what
religion can do to make men happy; see what a luster it can
shed on the gloom of a dungeon; —how it can fill the mouth
with songs of praise, while the limbs are racked with pain,
and enable the happy spirit to soar above earth to heavenly
bliss, while the body is bound in chains. You. here see men
raised by the force of their principles and by their inward
joys, above all the trials, insults, injuries, temptations and
sufferings which men or devils can inflict —happy, yea, joyful
in the midst of them. And can any thing but religion do
this?  Can a regard to any other object-a love for any
other being, a consecration to any other service-do so much?
Tell, ye lovers of the world, what would your pleasures,
your indulgences, your objects, your nmotives, your habits, do
for you confined in the darkness and gloom of a dungeon?
What will they do for you on the bed of death? What will
they do for you when the eyes of the omniscient Judge are
fixed upon you, and the final sentence is passing his lips?
Away, then, with these miserable grounds of reliance; be
ashamed of the wretched delusion, that religion is a gloomy
thing. When your dying bed shall be hung round with the
gloom and despondency, the terrors and remorse of sin-when
you shall hear the noise of the final day, then, oh, then, you
will wish you had been the disciples of Jesus!
2. Religion is as good a thing now as in the days of the
apostles. A different opinion is undoubtedly entertained by
3*k




58          PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON.
many. Multitudes suppose that some peculiar supports and
consolations were given to them, which are not vouchsafed to us,
and which we are in nowise to expect. That they had peculiar support under trials and peculiar joy in the Christian
course, is not denied. But to what was it owing-to their
miraculous gifts, or to their higher attainments in religion?
To which was it owing-to their miraculous gifts, or the holy
feelings, that Paul and Silas sang praises to God in their dungeon?  Plainly to the latter. And why will not the same
cause produce the same effects in our day? Will not the
same faith, the same love, the same hope, the same devotedness to God, produce equal results? If heaven were as much
in our minds, as our chief possession, as it was in theirs-if the
vanity and uncertainty of this world were as justly estimated
-if growth in grace were equally prized-if the Saviour were
loved as much-if the heart and soul were as much fixed upon,
and occupied with his honor and his glory, could we fail to be
happy as they were? Is not heaven worth as much now as it
then was?  Is not the world as really vain and unsatisfying
now as it then was? Is not conformity to the divine likeness
as truly desirable? Is not Christ as worthy of our love and
confidence as of theirs? Are not the benefits of his death as
full to us as to them? —the promises of his gospel as free? Is
not the glory of God in the salvation of men, and the joys and
triumphs of his kingdom, as much to be loved?  Can any
lapse of time change the objects, or the nature, or the power
of religion? IHas the work of redeeming love lost its importance because years have elapsed since the Son of God died on
the cross? Are the realities of heaven no longer glorious because a few centuries have passed away since the everlasting
doors were thrown open? Mly brethren, find the man who
makes the same comparative estimate of heaven and this
world-who has the same sweet sense of forgiving mercy, the
same hungering and thirsting after righteousness, the same
love for Jesus, the same zeal for his glory-find the man who
regards this life as the first short hour of an immortal exist



PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON.                 59
ence-who by faith in God has learned how to see, and feel,
and surround himself with the realities of eternity, and there
you will find the same principles which influenced the apostles-there you will find one equally happy in his spiritual
and eternal portion.
3. We see why Christians have not the same enjoyment now
as in primitive days. It is not that religion must make its
subjects unhappy; it is not that the religion of Paul and Silas
cannot do as much for others as for them. Religion is the
same thing now, that it was in their day. The same sources
of enjoyment are open to us as to them. The same love to
Christ may rule in us. The benefits of his death are as fullthe promises and privileges of his grace are as free, to us as
to them. Our obligations are the same as theirs. Why then
should not religion support, and cheer, and bless the Christian
under the little crosses of this tranquil age, as well as under
the terrors which the annals of persecution record?  Alas!
here is the defect. They have not as much religion as they
ought to have and might have. It is because they still cherish
so much of that earthly-mindedness that debases the soul,
blinds the understanding, hardens the heart, and destroys its
relish for spiritual enjoyments. They do not think enough of
heaven to reduce the things of the world to their true insignificance. These are so dear, and the loss of them so bitter,
that they are not ready to part with them for a larger measure
of faith and holiness. Suffering to them, is too high a price
for the peace of pardoned sin, and for a perfect likeness to
their Saviour. They do not feel sufficiently that love of Christ
whose height, and depth, and length, and breadth is enough
to bear them up under every pressure of affliction-that devotedness to his honor-that absorption of soul in the glory of
God their Redeemer, that bears it away from earth, and annililates every thing ]beside. Hence it is that they so much
want the supports and joys of religion. Hence they are so
much harassed by doubts, so easily disturbed by the changes
of the world. Hence theypass their lives in so much fruitless




60         PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON.
regret and impious distrust. They are not doing their Master's
work. The ways of Zion mourn. Sinners are going on in sin,
thronging the broad way-falling into perdition, as it were,
every hour. They look on and stand idle. Hence they are
guilty and unhappy; they dare not cherish the hope of
heaven, nor dare they abandon it. How unhappy-how almost
wretched they are! Mustering fortitude and resolution to bear
the burden of guilt and self-condemnation that weighs on the
conscience, and still leaving the cause of Christ to languish,
and souls to perish.
MIy brethren, these things ought not so to be. We ought
to understand our calling better. We ought to know our privileges better. We ought to have religion enough-we ought
to esteem heaven enough-we ought to love Christ and God's
glory and the souls of men enough to rise above these external
things, and do the work to which we are called. The unhappiness we feel is owing to this want of religion. Although
there are many things which cannot but be grievous, yet there
is no event, no pain, which religion may not relieve with its
consolations. It has done it. It has done it in the case before
us. It has done it ill later times. It has disarmed the rack
and the fire of power to torture; it has lifted the soul up to
the bliss of God's presence and begun heaven's song, while
the body was consuming in the flames. All this it has done;
all this it can do again. That man cannot be unhappy in
whose heart the peace of God rests. Let us, then, my brethren,
think more of heaven and less of earth. Let us by faith often
bring near the glories of the upper world, and compare them
with the vanities of this. Let us prize the image of God in
our souls, and regard our afflictions as brightening that image.
Let our hearts be filled with love to that Saviour who has
loved us and died for us.  Let us make God's glory our
portion, and although the sun be darkened and the moon
withdraw its light, this dark world itself will be changed
into a sanctuary, like to that temple where the glory of God
doth lighten it, and where the Lamb is the light thereof.




PAUL AND SILAS IN PRISON.               61
And now, my dear brethren, let me make a personal application of this subject to each of you. You profess to be Christians-to have experienced the religion of the gospel in its
power. What does your religion do for you? Does it sustain
under trials? Does it place you at rest with respect to the
changes of this world? Does it give heaven its proper importance when compared to earth?  Are spiritual blessings the
chief objects of desire? Are you willing to suffer, that your
faith may be increased-that you may be more like your
Saviour?  Does the blessed Jesus occulpy the purest, warmest
affections of the soul? Does his glory veil every other object
in darkness? HIave you that peace, and hope, and joy which
these things afford? Are you thus ripening for glory? If
not, where and what is religion? Is that religion which knows
nothing of these things-is that religion which sinks under the
pressure of earthly trials-is that religion which makes earth
dearer to the heart than heaven-which leaves growth in
grace, Christ in all his excellency and beauty, and God in all
his glory out of the account? My brethren, you know it is
not. Why then profess to have religion when you know that
you have none? WVhy be satisfied to have so little? Why
not have enough to smooth and cheer your path through this
thorny world? WVhy not have enough to support you in the
hour of death? WVhy not enough to rejoice that life is wearing away-that heaven is approaching, and will soon be your
eternal home?




V.
THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION  OF GOD.
PSALMS Xvi. 8.
"I have set the Lord always before me; because he is at my right hand I shall
not be moved."
IF we observe the pursuits of the men of the world, we see
how they set their object, be it what it may, always before
them. It is well understood that the constancy of purpose
and perseverance of effort which are necessary to success in
any worldly enterprise, cannot be maintained unless the object of pursuit be continually kept before the mind. The
same necessity exists in religion. If we would derive any
practical influence from God, and so partake of the promised
blessings, God must be to us, in our habitual regard, an everpresent God.
The psalm from which the text is taken, in its primary
and prophetic import, doubtless refers to one greater than
David, even the Lord Jesus Christ. And whether this and
similar passages can have more than one application, which
some deny, is quite immaterial. Whether the text has but
one application, and that to the Son of God, or whether it has
a secondary application to the Psalmist himself, the speaker,
by the weight of his own example and as the result of his own
experience, teaches us the same important truth, viz.:
Tlhat habitual piety is attended with the constant protection
andcfriendship of God. "I have set the Lord always before
me; because he is at my right hand I shall not be moved."
I propose to considerFirst, What it is to set the Lord always before us;




THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD.    63
Second, The blessings which are certain to follow.
I. To set the Lord always before us, is to maintain a supreme
and habitual regard for God, according to the relations which
he sustains toward us. Every one knows what it is thus to
regard any worldly object. A man has fixed his supreme regard on wealth. The object may not be one of incessant
thought and exclusive contemplation. He may often think
and talk on other subjects. Still he has formed a practical
estimate of wealth, as the means of happiness. He has fixed
it on the mind as an object of commanding pursuit; and
whatever other subject may occupy his thoughts, he carries
with him an ever-wakeful remembrance of his main object
and an habitual regard for it, so that he holds himself in constant readiness to act in reference to it. Let any means of
promoting it occur, or let any event happen to interfere with
and defeat his purpose, and you will always find that his object is before him. In whatever way his end is to be attained,
whether by hoarding, or by accumulation, or by use, to that
he resorts-whatever means will contribute to the success of
his design, those he adopts-and whatever tends to hinder or
defeat the accomplishment of his object, that he avoids to the
extent of his power. If by the force of some peculiar temptation he can be diverted from the pursuit-if under some
sudden stroke of adversity the controlling power of his
object seems to be suspended —still no sooner is there time to
recover from the shock than you find that he has not abandoned his object, but is again under its full and habitual influence. Thus, according to his estimate of its adaptation to
his happiness-and according to all the ways and means of
turning it to his account-you find that his object is continually before him. This we all understand.
Now it is precisely in the same way that we set the Lord
always before us. It is true, the nature of God and his relations toward us differ widely from those of the world. Still,
to place him before us as a practical object-that is, as a being
whose nature and relations to us are realities of practical in



64    THE HABITUAL PRECO GNITION OF GOD.
fluence-and thus to regard him supremely and habitually, is
to set the Lord always before us.
God is a being of infinite perfection. He is a God of infinite
goodness, of unspotted holiness, of inflexible justice, of unchangeable truth. He is the Omniscient, Omnipresent, Almighty God. To set him always before us, is habitually to
regard him as such a God.
God is our Lawgiver and Sovereign. He has given us his
laws as the rule of all accountable action. We are under his
rightful dominion, and are to remain under it throughout our
own immortality, according to the sanctions by which his claims
are enforced, and the retributions of eternity are soon to be
fixed.
God is our Creator, Preserver and Benefactor; and our
obligations to him are the obligations of dependent, helpless
and unworthy creatures, to a creating, persevering and allproviding God.
God is our Redeemer and Sanctifier; and it is only by the
wonders of his mnercy and hi.s grace that we can have an
authorized hope of deliverance from hell and elevation to
heaven in his moral image, with meetness for its joys.
God is a covenant God. In that covenant which he has
made are the treasures of his goodness-all the provisions of
grace for time and for eternity, guaranteed and made over to
us on its own conditions. It is the charter of hope, whose
security is the oath of God, whose promise is, all things that
we need.
God is our Judge and Rewarder. HIe has forewarned us
that a day is coming, when the world and its works shall be
burned up; when, throned in the clouds of heaven and encircled by hosts of angels, he will appear in judgment; when
the counsels of the heart shall be made manifest, and all the
deeds done in the body shall be brought up for inspection and
adjudication.  -Ie has announced the sentence that awaits us
on that dreadful day, according to the character we shall be
found to sustain, and apprised us that we shall be exalted to




THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD.    65
glory and happiness that fadeth not away, or be cast into the
lake of fire which is the second death. He has taught us his
displeasure toward us while we go on in sin; and that all the
the retributions of eternity become unchangeably fixed at
death, and that die we may, at any moment.
Now to maintain that habitual sense of God, which shall
secure the practical influence of all these perfections and relations of God upon us, is to set the Lord always before us.
Let us considerII. The advantage of setting the Lord always before us.
This part of the subject may be illustrated by some examples in the different circumstances of life.
1. Let us suppose that we do this in following the daily
business of our life. The whole life of man ought to be a continued act of religion; and such is the condition of man in the
world, that far the greater portion of life is made up of the
performance or neglect of those duties which result from his
worldly calling or occupation. Would we fill up this portion
of our existence with its duties we must set the Lord always
before us. Are we engaged in mercantile transactions-let us
reflect that God is present-that our supreme Lawgiver and
final Judge sees and knows whether we are satisfied with just
and reasonable profits, whether we are desirous of imposing
upon the other party, whether we are aiming to deal with
strict honesty and uprightness.  HIow would an habitual
sense of God on the mind, secure us from swerving to the
right hand or the left in these transactions! Have we promised to execute a piece of work for an employer, were we to
set God before us, and maintain an habitual impression of what
he is in himself and what he is to us, how scrupulously careful would we be that we devoted to our employer's service all
the time and labor for which he pays us, and that our conduct
should be exactly that which in a change of circumstances we
would wish from him! Are we cultivating our farm, or selling our articles in the market-are we employed in the mechanical arts-are we serving one for wages by daily labor



66    THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD.
are we managing the concerns of others or of our country by
agencies or by commission-how effectual to a right and faithful discharge of our duties would be an habitual regard to a
present God! What motives would then press on the mind
from the character of God and those relations which he sustains to us! and how would those innumerable departures
from duty, which we so constantly meet in these departments
of human life, be prevented, and succeeded by the strictness of
honesty, truth and justice! Throughout the various commercial, agricultural, mechanical world God would be present. In
all these doings of men, God would be felt to be with them;
and who would sin in the very face of his Maker and his
Judge!
2. The advantages of setting the Lord always before us may
be seen in some of the more unimportant and ordinary occurrences of life. It is not merely under the severer dispensations of divine providence-not merely under the great and
striking occurrences of life that we are the subjects of duty.
Our life is made up of unimportant circumstances rather than
of great events. These are designed to answer the purposes of
our discipline, as they are quite sufficient, for the most part, to
exercise the Christian temper and affections. But it is in this
part of our trial on earth, that we chiefly fail. Great events
arrest our thoughts, and force us to think of God and of duty.
But how many, how innumerable are those to which we attach
so trivial an importance, as scarcely to imagine that any duty
is connected with them, or that they bring with them any responsibilities! The imperfections and disagreeableness of those
around us, the perverseness of those with whom we transact
business, the fretfulness and indiscretions and noisy disturbance of children, the interruptions which break in on our
favorite engagements, an importunate application, a disqualifying but not severe illness, a letter important to another but
not to us, break in upon our plans and try our temper. Or
perhaps we place a high value on our leisure —our religious
leisure or opportunities-on the duties of retired devotion or




THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD..67
social worship, and say with cheerful anticipation it is good
for us to be there; but the duties of the family, or the indispensable calls of business, defeat our schemes. Or perhaps
we actually partake of these enjoyments. The divine vision is
withdrawn, and we are compelled to come down from the
mount. Under these and a thousand like occurrences of life,
how little do we feel that we are creatures of duty-how commoil is it to regard a measure of fretfulness and discontent as
lawful, and to yield to a state of feeling that is as really offensive to God, as the outbreakings of murmuring rebellion I
And in this way how great a portion of life is filled up with
overt sins against God!  What is the remedy?  Set the
Lord always before you. It is he who directs these inferior
trials no less than those which are more severe. Constantly
then, trace his hand even in the little disappointments and
hourly vexations which occur in the most prosperous state.
God reigns alike in the fall of a sparrow and in the revolutions
of systems; and a perpetual conquest over impatience, and
ill-temper, and self-will, is the service to which he calls us in
every condition. To feel this, by habitual regard of him as
the omnipresent reigning God, is the ample and the only
security that we shall not habitually be turned fromnl the path
of duty.
3. The man who sets the Lord always before him will not
be moved by temptation.  Every one acquainted with the
nature of the human mind knows that its power to repel
temptation depends chiefly on its habitual state and governing aim. It is equally plain that that state of mind which
brings it under the greatest force of divine truth must be the
most powerful and controlling. Ilere is the advantage of setting the Lord always before us. It guards the heart alike
against the seductions of the world and the allurements of the
grand tempter, by bringing upon it the fullest measure of
counteracting influence. Is there not enough in God, in his
perfections, his law, his government, his favor, his covenant
and his retributions to make the world seem little? Can the




68    THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD.
mind that sees these realities in God be attracted and seduced
by any temptation? Can temptation of any kind, or in any
shape, or with any promises, assail that mind without meeting
a mighty and efficient counteraction in the manifested glories
of God? Nor is this all. Here is the grace, and the strength,
and the sanctification, and the hopes, and the rewards of promise. To set the Lord before us, therefore, consecrates the mind
with the very presence of the Deity, and repels the tempter
with discouragement from the sanctity of a temple so holy.
The man who lives thus, enters as it were, beforehand into
heaven itself. And will he defile the purity of heaven with
the deeds of hell? Will temptation triumph over him under
the influence that there descends from the promised grace and
unvailed glories of God? Let him then, as it were, place himself in this sanctuary. The thought of sin would be loathed
as an unhallowed abomination, and all the assaults of earth
and hell be impotent to seduce him from his allegiance to his
God.
4. He who sets the Lord always before him will be steadfast in all holy obedience. Such a man is pre-eminently prepared for the duties of devotion. God is with him amid all
the cares, and business, and bustle of the world. He thus
maintains in lively exercise all those graces of humility, faith,
and contrition that constitute the devout worshiper. His heart
is ready. His sacrifice is prepared, and there is nothing to
hinder his coming to the throne of the Eternal with adoration,
and gratitude, and praise. He is also faithful in the discharge
of his relative duties. Ite that fears not God, will not regard
man. A heart penetrated with a sense of our relations to
God, steadily fixed on the glory of his name, cannot but be
warmed with those sympathies and affections which prompt
to deeds of beneficence. He who, like his divine Master, is
habitually devout and pious, like him also will go about doing
good; he will be a follower of his Saviour-an imitator of his
God-the almoner of heaven's gifts to his fellow-men.
The same influence will render him faithful in his own




THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD.              69
house. He will be self-governed. The cause and kingdom of
God will claim his zeal and his efforts. With God before him,
he will see that, for the purpose of advancing his kingdom he
reigns. Here he will see the purposes of his grace and mercy
are to be fulfilled-he will feel the authority of his commands,
the encouragement of his promises, and enter into active fellowship with him. In a word, this sense of God will impart
stability and perfection to his whole character. The mind
that continually sees God in the character and relations he
sustains-as the perfect God, the supreme Lawgiver, the continued Benefactor, the Redeemer, Sanctifier and Judge of men,
and thus derives from these relations their appropriate influence, will hold its holy purpose to the end. So certain as
causes produce their effects, there will be that firm resolution
which will form the whole character-that magnanimity which
will rise superior to the events of time-that fortitude which
bears up under the pressure of affliction, and that holy heroism
which, fearless and unmoved, follows the path of duty through
difficulties, enemies, and dangers to the prize of our high calling in God.
5. This habit of mind will prepare for all the scenes of life,
for death and for heaven. In prosperity, the man will remember that he owes his prosperity to God-that it is he who has
crowned his industry and exertions with success, and filled his
cup with blessing-that it is he who gives health, and friends,
and children, and causes him to rejoice in his gifts. WVith this
view of God, every blessing will be augmented by gratitude,
will be held in subjection to the divine will, yielded cheerfully to the divine call, and consecrated by a sacred devotion
to the demands of duty and the glory of God.
He is in adversity. IHis comforts are few-poverty and
want assail him-sickness wastes his strength-the stroke of
death takes away his beloved offspring, and kindred friends
forsake or betray him, but he sets the Lord always before him.
He sees that God, without whose permission no affliction overtakes him, who sends distress and sorrow as fatherly chastise



70.    THE'iABITUAL RECOGNITION:OF GOD.
nents, and he knows how to receive the trial as a lesson of
faith, of submission, and of holiness. He sets God before him
-that God who reigns to fulfill his own wise and holy designs
-that God in whose government he can confide, and in whose
promises he can trust. The image of God is before him, and
he is encircled by the visible formls of his majesty and goodness. Are his perfections inadequate to protect? will his oath
be violated? God is his refuge and he has strong consolation.
He stands on the rock of ages and sees, unmoved, the fury of
the tempest, and the swelling of the billows that rage and dart
harmless around him.
He hears the suinmons of death; but to him, it is but the expected call of God. True, nature is alarmed when the mysterious union between the soul and body is to be broken. To
have a name no more among the living, to pass into the
dominion of the dead and have the worm for a companion
and a sister, are events from which nature shudders and starts
back. But even here, there is adequate support for him who
sets the Lord always before him. His Lord and Redeemer
has the keys of death. He lay in the grave before him and
hallowed it, for the repose of the just. Them that sleep in
Jesus will God bring with him. Ile knows, then, whom to
trust and what to expect. IHe knows that he whom he trusts
has power over death and the grave, and will raise again his
sleeping dust. Ile knows that he will be with him through
the dark valley. Death is the entrance into the more immediate presence of that God whose presence is the object of
his strongest aspirations. God is with him now, and his presence sheds the luster of heaven around his bed of death. He
partakes of the spirit of that world to which he is going, and
with a face that looks to the heavens, departs for the bosom ot
his God and Saviour. WVhy then be afraid to die?
Is the judgment next? The Judge is his friend. He has
nothing to fear from an appearance at his bar, for even to the
majesty that occupies the throne he is not a stranger. God
his Judge he has habitually set before him; God his Judge




THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD.   71
is God his Saviour, and he goes fearless —yea, with the confidence of victorious hope, to hear his final sentence for eternity;
for he goes prepared for the service and joys of heaven.
His preparation is, that he has habitually set God before him.
In that world God is all and in all.  This frame of soul devoted the whole man to the service of God here, and it must
qualify for his service there. This found its highest joys in
the visions of God by faith here-this must find its perfection
of bliss in full and  unclouded vision of God there.  It is
this frame of soul which animates all the activity of heavenwhich wakes its raptures and all its songs of adoration and
praise; —it is this which presents the immortal spirit faultless
in the eye of God, and qualifies it for fellowship with God and
his Son, with saints and angels in their employments and their
blessedness.
If any are disposed to regard the duty of setting the Lord
always before them  as impracticable-rather as one that looks
well in description, than one which is realized in actual lifewe would confront their skepticism with what has been realized in fact.  Amy Fowler,* whose death we deplore-or
rather I might say, in whose death there is so much reason to
rejoice-is our witness. And I appeal not to the case of a
stranger. She was born here, and has lived in the midst of
this people more than seventy years, and for about fifty years
has been a professed follower of Jesus. I appeal not to the
mere fact of a religious profession; —I appeal to many-to all
who knew her-and I ask, can you doubt that she maintained
an habitual thoughtfulness of God?  Did you ever know  a
human being in whom  it was made more manifest that she
* The students of Dr. Taylor will remember how often and how eloquently he
would speak of " Old Amy" as understanding the gospel practically —more fully
than any one whom he had ever seen. From this one example he would always
enforce the truth, that but little intellectual power or cultivation is required to understand the gospel, and to secure that blessedness which is described as being
"filled with all the fullness of God."
Amy Fowler was a colored woman, who was for fifty years a member of the
first church in New Haven of which Dr. Taylor was the pastor.




T2     THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD.
set the Lord always before her-that she entered into the
reality of those relations in which God discovers himself to his
people, and in which the state of mind evinced more decisively
its results in peace, and hope, and love, and gratitude, and joy?
It is not indeed claimed that she possessed a cultivated and
expanded mind; it is not pretended that she instructed the
understanding of her acquaintances, but seldom do we meet
one whose conversation so warms the heart. It was not
the light of intellect that attracted, it was the glow of
holy affection that touched the heart with kindred emotion.
And it was this that gave to her conversation a strong attraction, and often brought the most cultivated minds to
seek her society. There was a simplicity of faith which regarded God in his testimony as meaning what he said, and
relied on it accordingly. There was a fervency of spirit unquenched by the chills and damps of the love of the world's
good things. There was a spirit of gratitude, that overflowed
in the holy and yet cheerful inquiry, What shall I render unto
the Lord for all his kindness toward me? There was a consciousness which almost cleared the whole deportment in the
human eye from the spots of sin. There was a submission under the trials of life, and there was a confidence and a hope in
God her Saviour at death, which took away the anguish and
even the anxieties of death-a confidence in God which
cheered and sustained and gladdened the soul by its own influence; it was a faith that did not stagger at the promise
through unbelief, but took hold of it as the anchor of the soul,
and triumphed in the visions of glory which were disclosed to
the departing spirit. It is, then, my hearers, a practicable state
of mind to set the Lord always before us; and it is its blessed
influence in life, and death, and glory eternal, which rewards
its possessor.
And now, my dear hearers, is there such a God as we have
spoken of-is such his character-are such the relations he
sustains toward every one of us-are such the practical benefits of setting God always before us? If, indeed, it be so —if




THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD.              73
there be a God of infinite perfection-if in his attributes are
combined all that is grand and awful, and lovely and glorious
-if he be our Lawgiver and Sovereign for eternity-if he be
our Mlaker, Preserver and Benefactor, our Redeemer and Sanctifier, our covenant God, our final Judge and Rewarder-if in
this character and these relations of God there be every thing
of practical moral influence, to perfect man in character and
happiness-if to set him always before us is to secure his protection and friendship, according to our every want in time
and for eternity, ought this God to be ever absent from our
thoughts? Is it safe, is it wise ever to forget him? What
real interest have we to promote by forgetting God? What
higher interest have we, than the perfection of our own immortal nature-what higher interest, than to maintain that habitual piety which secures to us the protection, the support and
the friendship of the Almighty?
How then is it in fact?  Do we set God habitually and
practically before us? Is it our honest aim that all our purposes and affections, our plans and our doings, shall be precisely what a just sense of God on the mind would make them?
Do we actually find that the influence of having God always
before us does tell in its proper results? Do we find that this
influence is with us in our calling in the business of the world
-with us alike under all the occurrences of life, whether
trivial or important? Do we find it in weakening and counteracting the power of temptation-in prompting a steadfast
obedience, and fitting us for all the scenes of life, prosperous
and adverse-for death, for judgmelt and for heaven? Alas!
my brethren, though we may believe that we are not utter
strangers to all this, we know and must confess that more of
this influence from God is needed. Indeed, if we are Christians, more is desirable. Let us, then, turn away fiom these
scenes of materialism that surround and hinder the visions of
faith. Let our views be so fixed on the majesty, the purity
and the glory of a present God, and the relations between him
and us, that we shall feel their sanctifying energy. Let the
Vol I.-4




74     THE HABITUAL RECOGNITION OF GOD.
weight of these realities concerning God so lie on the mind
that we shall never be able to escape the impression. In God
thus before the mind, is every influence present that can adorn
the character with the graces of holiness, and cause a wellspring of peace, and hope, and joy, and life immortal to rise in
the soul. Let God, then, never be lost sight of. Let us so
accustom ourselves to the'contemplation, that when the vail
of eternity shall be drawn, we shall hail with triumph the distincter vision of all that is great, and awful, and glorious in
God.
One word to those from whose thoughts God is habitually
excluded. There are those who are conscious that they do not
thus set God before them. They know that none of the effects
are found in their affections or conduct which would result
from an habitual practical regard to a present God. They
well know, that, busied as they are with other objects, devoted
as they are to other pursuits, the inner man would be offended
and annoyed by habitual thoughts of God, and that the Being
who upholds them every moment is unregarded. They know
that if they were to think of God according to his true character and his real requirements, they would think of him with
impatience or disgust. Think then-oh! think-how far you
are from all that influence from God, which can sanctify and
save the soul-how far you are from the protection and firiendship of that God, whom you thus banish fiom your thoughts!
What will you think of him when he shall be revealed in the
clear light of eternity? If thoughts of God are unwelcome
to you now, what will you think of God when forced to look
upon him constantly and forever?




VI.
THE SOURCE OF TIlE CHRISTIAN'S JOY.
(A SERMON FOR THE LORD'S SUPPER.)
PSALMS iv. 6, 7.
" There be many that say, Who will show us any good? Lord, lift thou up the
light of thy countenance upon us. Thou hast put gladness in my heart, more than
in the time when their corn and their wine increased."
IN one respect all men are alike; all desire to be happy.
But in their special desires, and in the objects on which they
are fixed, there is that difference in men which decides their
moral character and their eternal allotment.  Whether a man
be a child of God and an heir of all things, or a man of the
world and under condemnation, depends on the nature of his
prevailing and supreme desire for happiness.
This difference among men is presented to our consideration
in the text.  " There be many that say, Who will show us any
good?" The multitude, with vague and indefinite desires, look
to the world for happiness, and in whatever way the world
can contribute to their enjoyment, it is the object of their desires.
The inquiry also bespeaks inward dissatisfaction and perplexity. "V Who will show us any good?" Hitherto we have
found nothing to satisfy us. A life of experiment has told
them that a worthless world cannot bless them, and still they
prosecute the fruitless search. Amid a constant succession of
disappointments, and with a full conviction of the vanity of
the inquiry, they ask, with the same strength of desire, " Who
will show us any good?"
lXot such was the desire of the psalmist.  His language,
speaking in the name of the godly, is, " Lord, lift thou up the




76    THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY.
light of thy countenance upon us." He then appeals to his
own experience, and declares, "Thou hast put gladness in my
heart, more than in the time when their corn and their wine
increased." His desires are specific. He needs not to inquire
where the supreme good is to be found. IHe knows that it is
to be found in the light of God's countenance-that all other
sources of happiness are unsuited to the nature of the immortal
spirit. On the light of God's countenance, therefore, his desires fix and center, as a source of happiness far superior to
what worldly men know, or what the world can give.
I propose to considerFirst, What we are to understand by the light of God's
countenance; and,
Second, Why the Christian desires it above all earthly good.
1. The phrase, "the light of thy countenance," though
highly figurative, is not the less obvious in its meaning.
Light is in itself pleasant to the eyes, and still pleasanter as
the medium of clear and distinct vision. ThAe light of one's
countenance denotes that peculiar aspect which bespeaks affection and favor; not a countenance dull with indifference;
not a countenance darkened with frowns; but one whose
aspect is bright with smiles of friendship and love.
By the light of God's countenance, then, we are to understand that clear and full manifestation of God to the soul,
which assures it of an interest in his favor.
That I may more fully explain this manifestation of God to
the soul, and the assurance of his favor which it imparts, I
would remark, that it does not consist in any bright vision of
light to the bodily eye, nor in any vivid impression on the imagination or fancy, nor in the communication from God of any
truth or any fact not contained in the Scriptures. Such impressions and such: communications are all superseded and
terminated, by that full revelation which God has made in
his written word. To suppose otherwise, is to suppose either
that the revelation of God is not sufficient for its avowed
end and design, or that God adopts in some, and these not un



THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY.   7f
frequent instances, a mode of communication with the soul
which stamps his revelation with insufficiency and uselessness.
Whatever peculiar or supernatural communications from God
some may suppose themselves to have in dreams and visions,
whether asleep or awake, they are dreams and visions, and
they are nothing more.
At the same time there is a manifestation of God to the soul
of the Christian, which is not enjoyed by other men even with
the Bible in their hands, nor always by the Christian himself.
When he has it, though not one of his conceptions or emotions
go by a single hair-breadth beyond the communications of the
written word, he still lives, in an important sense, under a
revelation to which all other men, and himself at other times,
are strangers. Though he does not pass one step beyond the
limits of the written revelation, yet he sees in a peculiar
manner what lies within these limits. He sees God, the great
object of this revelation, in the light and radiance of reality.
This manifestation of God, as unknown to other men and
peculiar to the Christian, may be thus illustrated. Other men
may read and understand what the Bible reveals concerning
the attributes of God and his relations to men. They may
speak of them consistently, reason about them conclusively,
and admit them formally into their creed; and yet with all
this light and knowledge, many remain in utter darkness and
blindness concerning God as a reality. The light that beams
upon the senses of such a man, from the objects of sight, so
completely overpowers the light which ought to beam on
himh from God, the object of faith, that to him there is no
God. To him God is so lost behind these shadows of material
things-so put away in darkness and distance, that he is as
though he were not. Now, to rectify all this, it cannot be
necessary for this purpose that any new truth be added to the
written record. It will be enough, that every truth here revealed concerning God, comes home to the mind with its
proper power and pressure. What if it were so? Whhat a
God would be seen were the God of the Bible to be seen!




78    THE S-OURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY.
What a peculiar manifestation would that be, by which God,
as it were, should become visible to the mind in all his glories
as an impressive reality! This is the kind of manifestation of
God, which the Christian has, when under the light of his
countenance.
Nor is this all. This manifestation of God is made to the
Christian in the exercise of holy affections, and he is therefore
assured of the divine favor through the promises.
It is obvious that the mind of him whose affections fix with
some just measure of strength on God, must have very different discoveries of God from any which are known to those who
have no such affections. When the truths concerning God
come home with effect on every conviction and feeling of the
soul, the mind has and must have a clear and realizing view of
what God is, which the world, while unmindful of God, knoweth
not of. Such a mind is placed in a region of light, where the
great object of faith is seen in the bright aspect of reality, and
compared with such a manifestation of God, every other state
of mind leaves it in utter darkness. The character of God
may be described-the accuracy of the description may be admitted to be just, but so long as it awakens no corresponding
emotions, a dark cloud separates the soul from God, which
hides the reality. The exercise of holy affections removes the
cloud, and brings the soul into the very sanctuary of God's
presence, and throws the bright coloring of reality over all that
is within it. In proportion to the strength and intenseness of
holy affections, the misgivings of doubt and fluctuations of
faith vanish, and that God is, and that lhe is just that Cod
which the Bible reveals, is a full reality to the mind, as the sun
when the eye is opened on its splendors.
Again, the assurance consequent on this manifestation of
God to the soul, is through the medium of the divine promises.
It is easy to see, that however full might be the discoveries of
God to the soul, they would not necessarily bring with them
any conviction of his friendship and favor. They might only
bring God nearer as an object of terror. Since God, then,




THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY.'79
makes no direct personal assurances of his favor to individuals
— since he furnishes no warrant for any such assurance except
in his written word, it is plain that such an assurance can have
no warrant save the promises of God. On these the Christian
relies. Whether God has promised-whether God is faithful,
is not a matter of doubt to his mind. With the conscious exercise, then, of those holy affections which bring God in distinct vision before the soul, is associated the unwavering conviction that he is one to whom God hath promised himself in
the fullness of his mercy and grace. Is it, for example, the
affection of love that glows in his heart toward God in this full
manifestation to his soul, he knows it is that God of truth who
hath said, "I love them that love me;" and he dishonors him
not by a doubt of his friendship. Is it the exercise of trust or
confidence in God, he knows it is that God of truth, who has
said, "They that trust in the Lord shall not be moved;" and
as the child under apprehension of danger no sooner feels the
embrace of parental protection than every fear is hushed, so
too the Christian throws himself into the arms of his God, and
there feels that conscious safety'which gives quietness and
assurance forever. It is the embrace of his God, pledged to
him by his eternal truth.
Such is the import of the phrase, " The light of God's countenance."  It is a manifestation of God to the soul, not by
dreams and visions, but in the exercise of holy affections. A
manifestation of God which assures the soul of his friendship
and love, not by direct personal communications of any kind,
but through the medium of the divine promises:
I proceed to showII. Why the Christian desires the light of God's countenance
above all earthly good.
1. IIe thus values and desires it, as it removes a sense of
guilt from the mind. The Christian has seen and felt what it
is to deserve and to be exposed to the punishment of sin.
"The fearful wrath of the Almighty will fall on me, if I die as
I am, and I may die at any moment," is a thought which has




80    THE S OURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY.
entered his mind, with its power to distress and to imbitter
every earthly joy. In the sorrow which the world occasions,
man may retire f'or consolation to the conscious rectitude of his
own breast. But when the pangs of an accusing conscience
are felt, the executioner is within. In the hostility and trials
of human enemies, it may be some mitigation that they can
only kill the body, and after that have nothing else that they
can do. But now, God is seen as our enemy, "who is able to
destroy both soul and body in hell."  Every real interest-all
that is worthy to be valued, is in awful hazard, and the tears
wrung from us by outward calamities are pleasure, compared
with the quakings of a heart under some just sense of its guilt
and the inflexible justice of God. What can bring reliefwhat can hold back the arm of an incensed Deity, when raised
to strike? Vain is it to think of tranquillity to such a mind,
till something shall remove this sense of guilt-till something
shall alter the countenance of an angry God. True, it may be
that even the Christian who has once felt this, may bring over
hlis mind a measure of senseless stupidity; he may surround
himself with an air of mirth, and derive a species of alleviation
from false imaginations of his security, even when known to
be false. But in the midst even of merriment, his heart bleeds.
Nothing can remove the burden of his sins —nothing still the
shudderings of guilt. Or if we suppose the Christian cherishing only some occasional feeble hope of the divine favor, still
the hours of doubt are hours not without painful forebodings.
With a mind sensibly alive to the interests of eternity, that
uncertainty that obliges him to say, perhaps heaven, perhaps
hell is to be my portion, weighs on the soul with a measure of
distress, with relief from which no earthly joy can compare.
Perhaps in the case of every Christian there are seasons of
darkness, when the number and enormity of his sins will be felt,
and point him with full conviction to the avenging arm of a
holy God. By such experience the Christian is led to estimate
the value of the favor of God. And what is it from this place
of terror and of darkness —darkness more terrible by the splen



THE. SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY.   81
dors of divine justice which gleam on it, to come into the light
of God's countenance; to pass from beneath that cloud whence
God looks out in the dark frown of vengeance, and to come
under a full manifestation of God reconciled-under the light
of that love which beams peace, and life, and joy on the souland to hear the accents of assuring mercy, "Be of good cheer,
thy sins are forgiven thee!" Tell us, Christian; for you have
felt it-what peace and joy succeeded-tell us your triumph
when, with clear discoveries of God, you rested on that oath
of his, sealed by atoning blood, that he was your everlasting
Friend. What in comparison had been a world and all it
could give?
2. The Christian desires the light of God's countenance for
its own inherent consolations. It is then that the Christian is
in that state of feeling and affection which most approximates
the perfection of his nature, and which has most of the happiness of heaven in it, of which he is ever the subject in this
world. It is then he has an intimate access to God, a holy
familiarity with him. We all know the difference between the
cold and distant reserve which we feel in the presence of a
stranger, compared with the unrestrained familiarity and undisturbed quiet which we feel in the society of a confidential
friend. So essential to our happiness is the latter state of mind,
that to live, and to feel that we live, surrounded by strangers,
would render life wretched and anlmost intolerable. The Christian knows what it is to regard God as a stranger. By his own
sins he often loses a sense of God's friendship. By the doubts
and fears and suspicions of conscious guilt, God is placed at a
distance. He dare not presume on that approach which known
friendship would authorize. His neglected closet tells him this
fact, and often in mourning and tears he estimates his loss. It
is that painful loneliness which excludes from that happiness
which his own experience will hold up continually before him.
There have been seasons in which he has known the delight of
peaceful confidential familiarity with his Maker; when fearless
and unrestrained he would approach him, and pour out all his
4*                                        6




82    THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY.
disquietudes into his bosom, assured of finding the heartfelt
sympathy and ready assistance of his God.  If then we so
highly value the peaceful, quiet, and unchecked familiarity of
earthly friendships, if without them, all the warmth and glow
of our happiest emotions would be chilled and frozen, by
making each a stranger to all, what must be the joy of that
conscious friendship with the living God, which brings the
soul into a peaceful, unchecked familiarity with him-to speak
to God face to face as a man speaketh to his friend; how
ardent the desire of it in him whose past experience tells him
its consolations!
This state of mind implies the serenity of unreserved confidence. There is, in the very nature of confidence in another
who is able to protect and bless us, a serenity of mind which
nothing can disturb, a stability of soul which nothing can agitate. Our confidence must falter before the soul can tremble.
Did we never see this power of confidence in the child, when
his fears and agitations were allayed, and tears changed for all
sportive glee, by the assurances of parental protection? Thus
it is, when the Christian confides in God, that his soul returns to
its rest. It is confidence in God, under a full manifestation of
God. And though he knows what it is to be without it, and to
be racked by the tossings of uncertainty and fears, he yet knows
how to value it, by at least some short intervals of that quietness of spirit which it affords. He knows what it is by prayer,
by meditation, by self-consecration, and other exercises of devotion, to come near to God, even to his seat; what it is for him
to break forth on the soul with a clear manifestation of the perfections of his Godhead, and to impart to it a serenity " mild as
the zephyr and more rapturous than song."  What care, what
fear, what inquietude can intrude into that breast which has
within it that consciousness of safety which such intercourse
with God affords-the same security to his interests which there
is to the interests of the Infinite Being himself; what tempests
of earth can agitate the soul that has an anchor thus cast within
the veil, thus fastened to the throne of God?




THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY.    83
Again, in this state there is a peculiar manifestation of God's
love to the Christian. We cannot love another without the
strongest desires of a reciprocal affection from the beloved object. How miserable should we be to know that the tender
affections which we give to others are answered by no return
of regard; that not a being around us, not even one of those
whose welfare we are eager to promote, and whose sorrows we
feel as our own, has any more feeling for us than for the inanimate objects which they see, and pass without a wish to see
them again! The same principle holds with respect to the
Christian. He loves his God, and though his love may be too
feeble to furnish decisive evidence of its genuineness, it is seldom so feeble as to render him indifferent to the reciprocal love
of God. To know that he was regarded by him with indifference would render him an exile from the universe, and shut up
against him the only fountain of good, from which must proceed every stream. While the Christian has in some degree
known and felt all this, he has also been, during some longer
and shorter intervals, under such discoveries of God's love as
are enough to tell him its value. He has so felt it as to find
his heart warmed with its consolations, as to find it breathing
into the soul so much of the inspirations of heaven, such a
peace, such a joy, such a holiness, such a superiority to earth,
such a devotedness to God in return, such a thousand all-sufficient consolations, as to sink all earthly good into comparative
annihilation. And oh!-'tis the language of his fervent aspirations-oh! that this heart could so dissolve in love and flow out
to him, as to meet that rich tide of affection rolling back from
God on the soul, and bringing with it its own unutterable joys!
Do any say that all this is but a fiction of the imagination?
Ask the experience of Scripture saints, of the noble army of
confessors and martyrs, or appeal even to the humblest, the
weakest believer who has felt that hope in God which maketh
not ashamed-who has maintained a devout intercourse with
God by daily communion in his closet and hourly thoughts directed to his heavenly Father-ask him if his own experience




84    THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY.
does not prompt these desires for the light of God's countenance; ask him if it has not brought the fullest conviction
to his mind of the practicability of an intercourse with God,
which shall cause the love of God to beam on the soul in all
the assurance of its reality, and all the riches of its consolation?
In this state of mind, also, there is between the soul and God
a delightful fellowship of affection and of interests. Could we
suppose two bound together in the relation of friends, so far as
mutual complacency in each other's character would form a
bond of union, and yet separated by affections fixed on different objects, and by different and even clashing interests, how
would the jar and the discord of such a friendship be felt-how
would it want perfection! Such is not the friendship felt to
subsist by the soul between itself and God, when enjoying the
light of his countenance. The supposition could not be realized in fact, and it is made only that we may see more distinctly
the ingredients of the blessed relation. While the soul fixes its
strongest, purest affections on the divine character, and while
the love of God comes home to its full and satisfying apprehension, the soul also loves what God loves, and proposes
those ends and no other than those which God proposes. The
experience of every Christian tells him that there is no more
unhappy and painful state of mind than that in which his will
clashes with the will of God. It is not the trial, not the
affliction which he feels; it is: the dissatisfied temper; it is the
inward controversy with the God that appoints it, that weighs
down and crushes the soul. But from all this, when under
the light of God's countenance, the soul is far removed. It is
a transforming light, changing the soul into the same image
from glory to glory. Now, every desire, every wish of its
own, expires in the bosom of God-every interest, every plan,
every hope is absorbed in the designs of God. Its own happiness and God's glory become identified. If it be the highest
earthly gratification to accord with those we love in affections
and interests —if the humblest effort is delightful when dictated by such an affection, it can be no mean delight to




THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY.    85
cherish that submission and devotedness to the will of God
which make us one with him; that devotedness to his will
and adoring joy in his designs; that assimilation to his character and union in emotion which are the very elements of
heavenly happiness; that oneness for which the Saviour prayed,
"As thou, Father, art in me, and I in thee, that they may be
one in us."  Whatever may be the diversity in the experience of Christians, there is not one who has not felt some of the
smaller rays of this transforming light of God's countenance
-felt enough to darken the luster of earthly joys, when compared with that vision of God which is the object of his desires,
and transforms the soul into the likeness of God.
3. The Christian desires the light of God's countenance, as
it gives assurance of those future blessings which are the objects of hope. Did the time permit, I might dwell on the
sorrows and darkness which await the Christian in the future
scenes of life-the many and powerful temptations to which
he will be exposed, and which so constantly seduce the heart
and mar his peace. I might refer to that heart within, always
too cold, and often hard as a stone, and a source of constant
grief-the last enemy, the dark and lonely grave, the spirit's
departure for the unchanging allotments of eternity —to the
judgment, that place of solemnities and terror, where one conscions of deserving hell is to be tried by a God of spotless
purity and inflexible justice-on these evils in anticipation to
the Christian-for such they are in most cases-I might dwell,
and tell you of the peace, and the composure, and the triumph
with which they are looked forward to by one under the light
of God's countenance; I might show you how this state of mind
is adequate to banish grief and fear -to dissipate every cloud
of sorrow, and cause, even in death and at the judgment-seat,
the sunshine of heaven to dawn on the soul, and how for all
this the Christian values the light of God's countenance. But
I will only briefly refer to the assurance it gives of deliverance
from sin and of future glory. It is sin which to the Christian
is the cause of his deepest sighs, and his most alarming fears.




86    THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY.
It is this which he deems his greatest calamity; it this which
makes him an object of self-abhorrence. How cheering, how
delightful, then, is the assured anticipation of deliverance!
HIow must he long to escape from this prison of doubt, and
fear, and self-defilement, and self-deformity, and to place himself in anticipation before the throne of a spotless God, meet to
stand there! To be placed under those smiles of God which
are the prelude to final redemption-free from every polluting wish, every irregular affection, every unhallowed temperfrom every doubt and every foreboding, and every tear which
sin occasions-to live under that clear and attractive light
of the glories of God, which gives the assurance of soon awaking in his perfect image, to glow with ceaseless love to him,
and be a meet companion of his presence throughout his own
immortality —to be able to fix, too, a steady eye on all the
glories of that world of his hopes, and, filled with admiration
and love, to say, "This glory is mine, and every moment brings
me nearer, and brightens still the prospect" —oh, who does not
long for this! What cause of regret can remain, save that the
next moment may be the moment of departure? And what
a duskiness does it spread over the trifling scenes of earthly
joy? Who would exchange its smallest ray for all the pleasures of time combined? Ask the Christian who has: seen and
felt it. Yes, ask any Christian, for he has felt enough of it to
know its value. Ask him whether there is not such a thing
as an intercourse with God here on earth, which in no trifling
sense lets down heaven into the soul, and causes it almost to
emulate the joys of angels. He has answered, " Yes, I know
it."  Then ask him what earthly joy he would not resign for
that manifestation of God, when he lifts the light of his countenance upon him.
RE M ARKS.
1. We see why Christians so often mourn under the hidings
of God's face. The fact is common; the causes different.




THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY.    87
Sometimes it is owing to false and groundless expectation of
the mode of obtaining the blessing. They are looking for
some direct supernatural manifestations, consisting in some
mental vision-some strong impressions of feeling-some personal assurance, not through the channel of the written record.
Others are continually looking for evidence of their safe
estate, scrutinizing their past experience to find the proofs of
their reconciliation, and their warrant for applying the promises. I do not say that self-examination is not useful and is
not necessary. But this is not the way to find the light of
God's countenance, to be always looking for evidence instead
of creating it.
Others there are who refuse to see the nature of their own
affections and exercises. Their fears of mistake and self-deception guard the mind against any favorable conclusion, while not
unfrequently there is an anxiety and an agitation of mind which
renders it incapable of discerning the nature of its own emotions. Now all this is wrong-the certain means of darkness,
doubts and fears-the fatal cause of separation between the
soul even of the Christian and his God. Thus, he will go mourn
ing all his days.  The course must be changed.  He must
begin anew. That manifestation of God to the soul, which
brings the evidence of his favor with it, is in the exercise of
holy affections. Here, then, he must begin. He must come
out into that field of manifestation where the truths concerning
God-i. e. what God is-where the reality of a perfect God
comes home to the soul.  fie must see and know so much of
God in his perfect mercy and grace, and not to be afraid to
trust that mercy, guilty as he is; and so much of his justice
and holiness, in the exercise of love, and confidence, and submission, and devotedness. Let him do this, and the very doing of it, if it be blended with a belief of God's promises, will
bring with it the assurance of God's love, and favor, and protection in return. Do this, and God, in proportion to the
strength of your affections, will be seen in the cloudless vision
of reality, and the sight will pour all its joys upon the soul.




88    THE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY.
2. This subject addresses those who have been taught to
value and desire the light of God's countenance above all things.
Many there are, I trust, who can say this. If they have never
had those manifestations of God which have given even for one
moment the full assurance of his love, they have had those
which have awakened some reasonable hope, some just persuasion that it was so. If they have never come into the full
brightness of this light, they have felt some of its fainter yet
reviving rays, and this has been enough to awaken supreme
desires for still clearer visions of God, and still stronger assurances of his love. Itave any of you, then, desires like these?
Do you long for that clear vision of God, in the exercise of holy
affections, which imparts to the soul that peace of God which
passeth all understanding?  Remember whence these desires have come. It is because "He who commanded the light
to shine out of the darkness hath shined in your hearts."  Remeinber, too, by whom these inestimable hopes and sustaining
blessings were purchased for you: by that Jesus whose love
ye commemorate to-day. Without his atonement, the fires
of eternal justice had ever flamed around that throne of
God before which you stand. Jesus' blood hath changed it
into a throne of mercy, and that God whom you now venture
to approach is God in Christ. Though sin's unchanging foe,
he wears to you only the countenance of reconciliation and
love. Come, then, boldly to his throne of grace and mercy.
Come, expecting new manifestations of his love. By the exercise of lively faith and ardent love, bring God your Saviour
here, and fearlessly, joyfully, look on him as your God and your
Saviour. Then will he lift the light of his countenance upon
you, and you shall say it is good to be here. Should seasons of
doubt and darkness overtake you, still cherish these desires for
this light of heaven-still watch and pray and labor for its consolations, and even here ye shall find it sustaining and gladdening your spirit in its weary pilgrimage; and soon the darkness
shall be past-soon these glimpses of the light of God's love shall
be changed into the full visions of eternal day. IHim you shall




TIlE SOURCE OF THE CHRISTIAN'S JOY.    89
see face to face, and in the full fruition of his gifts shall have
the pledge of his friendship throughout your own immortality.
But oh, ye who still value the world and its joys more than
the love and favor of God, what are your prospects? What
is your portion? What are your corn and oil and wine? W Arhat
is all this you covet? What are all the joys which it can give?
Such as the animal creation knows as well as you. WVhat have
you done for that higher part of your nature-those capacities
of the soul that qualify it to draw its happiness from friendship
with God? Oh, think what it is for such a being as you are
freely, voluntarily, to qualify yourself for no higher pleasures
than the polluted fountains of earth can afford; what it is
for a being made in God's image to forego God's friendship, to
be an outcast from his love, to go away an exile, a fiiendless,
forsaken orphan, to wander on and still onward through eternity, to meet no smile of love, receive no pledge of friendshipalone and unblessed, in that universe of which God is the Father!
Eternity, what a desert to thy soul! But more: —soon your
mirth and thoughtlessness, and all your gay dreams of earthly
joy, will terminate, by a vision of God in the frowns of his vengeance. In that dark cloud of his anger which hovers over
you, his thunder sleeps, soon to burst upon you in one eternal
tempest of wrath. Oh, how would you, then, love and value
the friendship of thy God!  Make him, then, thy friend today. I-e waits to be reconciled. Come, give him the love of
thy heart, and he will lift on thee the light of that countenance
which is the pledge of his eternal friendship, and of all its joys.
Take care of these interests; make sure of these joys now.
Make the God of eternity and of all that blesses it, thy friend.




VII.
"THE ATOYTMENT A PLEDGE TO THE  CHRISTIAN  FOR
EVERY REAL GOOD."
ROMANTS viii. 32.
" 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?"
INEVER was a conclusion of deeper interest to the children
of men —never was a conclusion sustained by such an argunlent. The conclusion is, that God will freely give all things
to his people; the argument is, that he spared not his own
Son, but delivered him up for them all-an argument which
not only convinces the understanding, and bids defiance to
doubt and unbelief, but at once summons the heart to its devoutest gratitude, and awakens its sublimest hopes.
The text needs no other explanation than what will naturally arise from the consideration of the grant which God here
makes to his people, and the cwarrant by which the validity
of the grant is supported.
I. The grant which God makes to his people. Of this it
were too little to say that it is liberal and large. What it
contains is as truly beyond limit and beyond enumeration as
are the wants and the interests of an immortal being. They
comprise every thing in time and eternity, in earth and in
heaven, which can in any degree affect the Christian's real interests. Thus the same apostle has unfolded the extent of this
grant in a,,lore particular enumeration.  "All things are
yours; whether Paul, or Apollos, or Cephas, or the world, or




THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC.                 91
life, or death, or things present, or things to come; all are
yours, and ye are Christ's, and Christ is God's."
The objects of the grant, then, are those whom God, according to his eternal purpose, has sanctified by his grace, and
brought into a state of reconciliation and favor.
All thin;gs are not in their possession to be appropriated and
used according to the erring dictates of their owI1 independent
judgment and wishes. This would often prove their ruin.
They are theirs, for their good, and therefore in better hands
than their own, even at the disposal of the infinite God, as he
sees their interests to require. The Lord Jesus Christ did not
submit to poverty to secure to his followers independent fortunes; he did not submit to hunger and thirst, that they
might riot in luxury; nor to shame, and reproach, and death,
that they might be exalted to worldly honors and princely
dignity. These, comparatively, are ciphers-things of no significance or value, except what delusion gives them. And as
the gratifications of a mere worldly spirit, they deserve not
the name of things in that inventory of blessings which infinite
wisdom has made over to the Christian. They are only curses.
The Christian, then, has no reason to complain of any defect
in this grant, because carnal enjoyments are left out of it; no
inducement to interline his charter, if he could, with such additions. All things are his, as they will subserve his best interests in time and eternity-God being both the Judge and
the Director of all. If health, if riches, if honor will promote
his real good, they are his. If sickness, if poverty, if obscurity
or reproach will be good for him, they are his. Pardon to remove his guilt-grace to aid him in the performance of dutystrength to sustain him under trials-fears and doubts and perplexities enough to keep him watchful, and to prepare him to
thank his deliverer, when he finds himself over the threshold
of eternity, safe from hell —every needful supply for his temporal and spiritual well-being in time-immortal life and glory
in the world to come. Thus every thing in God and in creation-every thing in time and every thing in eternity —so far




92       THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC.
as the least value pertains to it, is the Christian's. Such is his
heritage-such his all-sufficient portion. God and the created
universe are his.
II. Having, thus considered the grant itself, let us examine
the warrant which secures its validity. The apostle, to give
weight to his conclusion, puts it in the form of a question.
" How shall he not freely give us all things?" It is impossible that God should deny to the Christian the least real good.
The assurance is absolute; it is founded on the impossibility
that God should do otherwise, and this impossibility results
from the fact, that " he spared not his own Son, but delivered
him up for us all." The atonement of the Son of God, then,
furnishes absolute security that God will give to his chosen
people all that their real interests demand. This will appear,
if we consider1. That the atonement in its ultimate design and end, was a
provision for them. There is a sense, and no unimportant one,
in which God gave his Son to die for all nmen. IHe is a propifiation for the sins of the whole world. The Lord Jesus died
to make a complete provision for the pardon and salvation of
all men as moral agents; so that in this character the blessings might be offered to their acceptance, and so that nothing
could hinder their acceptance but their own voluntary refusal
of the offer. "God sent not his Son into the world to condemn
the world, but that the world through him mnight be saved."
But this was not the only nor the ultimate design of God in
this work of mercy. Indeed, had he formed no other purpose,
Christ had died in vain. Rich as had been the provision of
mercy —free as had been the overture of it to guilty men-not
one had accepted it. Merely to provide salvation for men,
and to make the offer of it, would, we believe, have never
brought the Son of God to die on the cross. WVe must look
for some further and higher end. This is abundantly revealed,
as we have seen from the context. This end is the actual restoration of a part of mankind to the favor of God. Now, every
real Christian is reached by this design of the sacrifice of




THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC.               93
Christ. He is one of the called, according to God's purpose.
That he might be a partaker of the great salvation-that he
might be brought into a state of reconciliation with God, and
become as really the object of his favor, as if he had never
sinned, was the express and ultimate purpose for which God
spared not his own Son, but delivered him up to die. Will
this purpose fail of its accomplishment?  Will the ultimate
end for which God gave his own Son to die-that end without
which he had died in vain-that end without which he had
not died-will that end be lost?  Will the grand object of
God in this greatest miracle of his mercy be defeated?  The
immutability of the infinite God answers that question. But
let this purpose be fulfilled, and what real good can the Christian want? Let the end for which God delivered up his Son,
in behalf of those for whom this mighty sacrifice was ultimately made, be answered-let the whole design be brought
to pass in the way and by the means in which the infinitely
perfect God accomplishes his designs, and what blessing is not
secured to the Christian? What more could he ask than to be
the object of such a purpose of God? What more could God
do for him than fully to accomplish it? So sure, then, as the
grand and ultimate purpose of God in giving his Son to die
will be accomplished, so sure is the Christian of all real good.
2. The atonement of Christ has taken away every obstacle to
the fullest expression of the divine benevolence toward the believer. Now, there is nothing in the severer attributes of God's
holiness and justice, nothing in the honor of his law, in the interests of his kingdom, nothing in the multitude of the believer's sins, nothing in the aggravations of his guilt, to obstruct
the largest gifts of divine benevolence. At the same time God
is love. Love is'the essential perfection of the Godhead, and
commands and directs all its energies. And now, when the
benignity of the divine nature is free to fix upon the believer
as its object, and to flow forth to him in its largest communications of good, when it does, in its fullest intensity, actually
fix upon him as its object, what must be the result? Such is the




94       THE  ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC.
relation to himself into which God, by the atonement of his
Son, has brought every Christian. By it, on the one hand,
there is nothing, absolutely nothing, in himself, in God, in the
universe, to hinder the fullest exercise of mercy toward him;
by it, oni the other, the benevolence of a God, like a sun, concentrates its beams upon him. Such being the effect in behalf
of believers of God's delivering up his Son for them, "how
shall he not also with him freely give them all things?"
3. The argument derives additional force from the nature of
the obstacles to the divine favor which the atonement has removed. The simple removal of these obstacles decisively
evinces the kindness of God; but the proof is augmented by
the nature and the magnitude of the obstacles themselves.
These are the truths of God, which are as great mountains, the
holiness of God, which cannot look on sin, the justice of God,
which is inexorable, though a rebellious world be plunged into
deepest perdition; these as they involve the glory of God, all
his designs as a moral governor, and all the interests of his
kingdom, beset the path of our return to his favor. And yet
the niercy of God has found its way to our guilty world in circumstances like these. The wisdom of God has discovered,
and the benevolence of God has executed a plan, by which his
truth-pledged to our destruction-can be vindicated; by
which his justice, equally committed to execute the last jot
and tittle of his law, can be sustained; by which his holiness,
which only moved to the frown of his indignation, may be converted into the smile of eternal favor; by which his law can
be honored, all the principles and interests of his moral government be upheld, yea, all his attributes be more impressively
illustrated in the pardon of believing sinners than in their punishment. Thus has the mercy of God forced its way to our
guilty world through every barrier which the truth, the justice,
the holiness, the law, the throne and the kingdom of God could
interpose. There was nothing to hold it back firom coining to
a revolted world on the errand of our actual salvation, and instead of tarnishing one of the attributes of God, it has shed a




THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC.                95
richer glory on them all. Mercy triumphs over the brightening splendors of every other attribute in the eternal redemption of believers. Such are the wonders of the mercy of God;
and who or what shall now limit its gifts towards those for whom,
in the highest sense, it has done all this? If God, by not sparing
his own Son, but by delivering him up for his people, has
changed, in its actual operation upon them, the whole administration of his moral government; if he has changed that
throne which, according to the principles of eternal righteousness, had stood forever a throne of wrath, into a throne of
grace-changed in their actual influence upon the people the
very attributes of his nature, and thus, instead of guarding
against them the sanctuary of his presence by all the jealousies of his Godhead, has opened to them the largest embrace of
his love and fiiendship —if God has done all this for his people by giving his Son to die for them, how shall lie not with
him give them all things?
4. The strength of the argument is increased by the character of those for whom God delivered up his Sonll. "Herein
is love; not that we loved God, but that he loved us, and sent
his Son to be a propitiation for our sins."  "Scarcely for a
righteous man will one die; yet, peradventure, for a good man
some would even dare to die."  "But God commended his
love toward us, in that while we were yet sinners Christ died
for us." This fact, momentous and affecting as it is, is so familiar to us that it is hardly possible to derive from it its due
impression. In estimating the kindness of a benefactor, one
method, and a just one, is to recur to the magnitude of his gifts.
3But rich and abundant as the gifts may be, if there is in the
relation or the character of their object a fitness to receive
them, there is sufficient cause for gratitude, but none for admiration. The constant gifts of parental kindness may and ought
to command returns of gratitude, but they awaken no surprise.
The manifestations of God's kindness to the sinless beings
around his throne justly call back their echoing songs of
praise, and awaken their fearless confidence in him for every




96        TIlE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC.
future blessing. But in all this what is there to compare with
that love to sinners, to rebels, to the just objects of his eternal
wrath, which gave his son to die for them? What is there in
the love of God to angels to evince the continuance of his gifts
should they rebel against him? What is there to show that
his love will triumph over every cause for wrath, and that however deserving they may be of his vengeance, he will still impart to them the richest gifts of his love? Nlothing. Proof of
such love to angels God has never given. Thus hath God loved
sinful man, and as the proof of it has given his Son to die
for him. "He commendeth his love toward us in that while
we were sinners Christ died for us."  When there was every
cause in us why he should come out in wrath against us, every
cause in us which there was in rebel angels why he should
bind us as he did them in chains of darkness, then we received the highest proofs of his love. The very causes, and
the only causes, which could check that love, have not checked
it. All that reason could conclude, all that suspicion could
devise, all that fear could forebode, as having power to close
against us the fountains of divine love —all this has only served
to draw forth its most abundant stream. All our guilt-our
literal desert of hell-instead of drawing forth the thunders of
the Almighty, and sinking us in the flames of his wrath, have
only furnished the occasion for the triumph of-his mercy. It
was in view of this that angels sang with raptures of wonder and joy, "Glory to God in the highest!" Here is the
love of God in meridian brightness and glory. With such
a view of the love of God, given in the death of his.Son, well
may his redeemed people say, "'IHow shall he not with himi
freely give us all things 2"
5. The argument of the apostle derives its utmost force from
the nature of the gift. "i He spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us all." Two things are referred to; the
character of the sufferer, and the sufferings he endured. It was
not an angel. The highest created being is bound, to the extent of his powers, to obey the law man had broken, and could




THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC.               97
do no service to supply the deficiencies of man. It was God's
own Son, " the brightness of his glory, and the express image
of his person." Angels are indeed called the sons of God;
"but to which of the angels said he at any time, Thou art my
Son, this day have I begotten thee 2" To what angel, to what
creature, to whom but to him who " thought it not robbery to
be equal with God," said he, " Let all the angels of God worship
him."  Christ is styled the well-beloved Son of God-the onlybegotten Son of God. Such was the person whom God sent
to save us. And if the love of the giver is to be estimated by
the value of the gift in the estimation of him who makes it,
what shall we say when God has given his Son? The object
is too vast, the gift too great, for the imagination to grasp it.
To have given worlds and systems of worlds, had been a comparative trifle. But he gave his Son. There, on that crossithe sun hides his face, the rocks rend, the earth trembles, dead
men come out of their graves-there hangs, there dies, the
Son of God-and there is nothing great beside. Ile spared
him not. He would not abate one tear, one groan, one drop
of blood, one circumstance of ignominy and pain, that was
necessary to the work of expiating human guilt. He delivered
him up. lIe delivered him up to poverty, to shame, to reviling, to persecution, to sorrow, to the agonies of death. HIe
put the bitter cup to.llhis lips, and held it there till he drank it
to its lowest dregs. HIe said, "Awake, O sword, against my
Shepherd, and against the man that is my fellow."  Ile laid
the full burden of wrath due to us on the head of the innocent
sufferer, and witnessed all his bitterness and anguish and
tears, when his soul was exceeding sorrowful even unto death
— when he cried, "M{y God, my God, why hast thou forsaken
me?"-when he bowed his head, said "It is finished,"' and
gave up the ghost. Thus God's own Son God's well-beloved
Son, suffered from his Father's hand-suffered for us. And
when God hath made such a gift, what blessing has he to give
or the Christian to ask, too valuable for God to bestow? The
gift already conferred is infinitely more- precious than aught
Vol. I.-5                                  7




9S        THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC.
that remains to be given; and whatever the Christian can
want in time or eternity, how shall not God freely give him?
The ransom was paid down; the fund of heaven,
Heaven's inexhaustible, exhausted fund,
Amazing and amazed, poured forth the priceAll price beyond."
REMARKS.
1. What strong ground is furnished to the Christian for
habitual trust in God? His every interest is safe. That point
is settled.  God has evinced  has proved beyond the misgivings of fear, or of doubt-that he has fixed his love upon
him. The very design for which Jesus died must fail-the
very benevolence of his nature, fixed in fullest intensity upon
its object, must cease to bless; —that love for him which accomplished the mighty enterprise of opening the channel for
its gifts through every obstacle —that love which did it for
him when a sinner-an enemy,-which spared not God's own
Son, but delivered him to bear the full burden of expiation for
his guilt-that love must lose sight of its object, and refuse to
bless, or the Christian's every interest for time and for eternity
is as safe as the wisdom and power of God can make it.
Have you, then, beloved brethren, evidence of your calling
and election of God. Put your trust in him. All things are
yours. Trust him in prosperity and in adversity; trust him
in sickness and in health; —trust. him under temptations and
trials;-trust him in the hour of darkness and under the power
of indwelling sin; —trust him when the guilt of sin and the
condemning sentence of the law oppress and terrify your soul;
-trust him under the infirmities of your daily experience, the
wandering of your thoughts, the coldness of your love and the
feebleness of your desires; —trust him under the assaults and
wiles of the grand adversary of your souls;-trust him when
the world smiles and when it frowns;-trust him when friends
around you are kind; trust him when enemies reproach;



THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC.               99
trust him when friends live and when they die; —trust him
in life; trust him in death;-trust him at the judgment-seat;
-trust him as you pass the threshold of heaven. IHere, indeed, you may have perplexities and distresses; here you may
be unable to unravel the mnysteries of Providence. You may
wish things were different; you may be tempted to say, "These
things are against me."  But he who sees the end from the
beginning chooses your inheritance for you. He will not indulge you to your ruin, but manage all for your good. Of all,
he is the infallible Judge. Let us drop, then, every murmur
and every anxiety, and remember the words on which he hath
caused us to hope: "He that spared not his own Son, but
delivered him up for us all, shall he not with him freely give
us all things?"
2. Under what obligations are the people of God for gratitude and love and obedience to him? Trust him too much we
cannot, but presume on his goodness we may. God loved us
when we were yet enemies to him by wicked works, and deserved nothing but punishment at his hands. God loved us
with an everlasting love. And oh! how shall we estimatehow shall we feel-how express the extent of our obligation!
If we think what God is, and what we are-of the blessings
bestowed, and the price by which they are obtained-what
abundant cause do we find for songs, adoring gratitude and
praise! Here is indeed "a length and a breadth, a height
and a depth."  On earth we shall never understand it; never
till we read it in the light and feel it in the joys of eternity,
shall we be able to comprehend this love of God or our obligations. To the blessed hope of these immortal joys he bath
brought us. From despair, fear, hell, he bath redeemed us.
He hath bought us with a price. Oh, how dear a price! He
gave his Son for us. The Son gave himself for us, that he
might redeem us from all iniquity. Let us not defeat this purpose of infinite love. Oh, let us not name Christ to dishonor
him. Let us never bring on him the reproach of calling him
"Lord, Lord, and doing not the things which he says."  Let




100       THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC.
the life we now live in the flesh be lived by faith in the Son of
God, who loved us, and gave himself for us.
3. Let me ask those of my audience who have no interest
in a Saviour's love, are you quite satisfied with your portionS?
Are you not already weary with a world that affords you little
but vanity and vexation of spirit? Would you not have an
inheritance with them that are sanctified by faith in Christ
Jesus? Are you not willing that the infinite God should provide for you-that he in his infinite wisdom and goodness
should mark out your portion? Are you not willing that the
God who gave his Son to die for you should become responsible for your interests-that all things in time and eternity
should be yours? Come, then, to the Saviour of sinners. For
you, too, God gave his Son to die. " God so loved the world
that he gave his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth
in him should not perish, but have everlasting life."
And can you not trust him? Come, sinner, you are wretched,
and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked. You have
nothing of real value. You have nothing in all the blessings
of earth and time, continuing as you are, but ultimate curses.
You have no support under affliction-no peace under the reproofs of a guilty conscience-no hope, no comfort in the hour
of death-no prospect but that of damnation at the judgmentseat; and thus poor, forlorn and wretched, the eternal God
offers you all that God can give! And, fellow-sinner, will
you not take it?
"Dost thou feel these arguments?
Or is there naught but vengeance can be felt?"
4. How unparalleled, how resistless it would seem, is the
love of God! His love to sinners is the love which spared not
his own Son, and with him is ready to give all things to the
returning penitent. Had you, fellow-sinner, become a wayward, ruined prodigal from your father's house-had he, in
the yearnings of parental love pursued you on your way to
ruin-had he done all, by sacrifices, by entreaties, proffers,




THE ATONEMENT A PLEDGE, ETC.              101
commands and tears all which a father's broken heart could
do-had he watched you with an ever-wakeful eye, administered to your every want, in all your guilt and miseries, with
his hand of unchecked bounty-could no requitals, however
base on your part, no abuse, no provocations abate his love or
check his solicitude to recover you to his abode of peace and
your home of joy-oh, could you, would you resist him?
Would you still resist and wring his heart with the anguish of
despair over the lost object of his love a But you have such a
Father, and this Father is God.




VIII.
TIlE INCREASE OF FAITH.
LUKE xvii. 5.
" And the apostles said unto the Lord, Increase our faith."
FAITH is the grand cardinal principle of the Christian life.
Imperfection in this principle was not peculiar to the apostles
of our Lord, nor can such imperfection fail to render the increase of the principle desirable to all real Christians in every
age.
Let us, then, considerFirst, The nature of faith;
Second, The means of its increase;
Third, The desirableness of its increase.
I. Faith is an influential belief in the testimony of God.
All the truths which constitute the gospel are either directly
or indirectly practical truths, designed either to guide man by
precept or to influence him  by motives.  With this view of
the truths which God testifies to us in his word, it will be easy
to ascertain the nature of true faith. This may be done by
comparing speculative faith in practical truths, with that
which is influential. MAere speculative faith in a practical
truth leaves the heart either indifferent or opposed to that
truth. An influential belief necessarily implies in all cases
the absence of all indifference and hostility to the truth which
is its object, and also a state of heart or moral sensibility
which is adapted to receive its appropriate influence. For example, the man by long habit addicted to intemperate drinking, speculatively believes that his conduct is ruinous both to
his own present happiness and to that of his family; yet his




THE INCREASE OF FAITH.                 103
fondness for strong drink is greater than his attachment to
that happiness which his conduct destroys. This creates aversion and resistance to the truth which he speculatively believes,
and thus, with his eyes open on the ruin which he brings upon
himself and his family, he goes on in his iniquity. Another
believing the same truth, yet having either a less attachment
to strong drink, and more sensibility to that truth which discloses the consequences of intemperance, yields to the influence of that truth. Again, suppose a man to be informed by
credible testimony that his house is on fire, and his family and
substance exposed to the fury of the flames. Now, if you will
imagine him on the one hand to be so degraded by vice, so
devoted to some sensual indulgence, as to be dead to natural
affection, and to all the practical influence of the truth testified, you will easily perceive that he may speculatively believe
the fact, and yet not make anll effort to extinguish the burning.
On the other hand, if he have those sensibilities which are
common to humanity, the truth testified will be so regarded as
to wake all his energies to action. In the one case there would
be merely a speculative, in the other an influential faith.
Now, between this influential faith and the faith of the
gospel there is an exact similarity. What the faith of a man
possessed of the ordinary sensibilities of our nature, in the testified truth that his house is on fire, is to that truth, as affecting conduct, so is the faith of the gospel to the truths presented by tile testimony of God. It is that strong, feeling
perception of them as realities, which secures to them their
true influence on the believer, and thus becomes what the
apostle terms it-" the substance of things hoped for; the evidence of things not seen."
It is easy to see what the character must be, formed by the
power of such a principle. Holiness, perfect holiness in man,
in all its peace and hopes and joys, is nothing more nor less
than the truths of the gospel carried into effect by faith. Let
there be the impress of the gospel on the heart and life, and
what dignity and perfection of character-what noble superi



104          THE INCREASE OF FAITH.
ority to the vanities of the world-what lofty conceptions of
God and the things of a future world-what a resemblance to
the Son of God would be furnished by such a man!
Such is the nature of faith. I proposed to considerII. The means of its existence. The text leads us to mention1. Prayer. That prayer is one indispensable means of the
increase of faith is unequivocally taught by the example in the
text. Prayer not only brings the soul under the grace of God;
it not only, according to God's appointed method, brings the
Holy Spirit into the soul, with that light, and strength, and
purity, which flow from his sacred inspiration; it brings the
soul, also, under the very eye, and into the very presence of
God. The suppliant at God's throne is surrounded by divine
realities. Nor is there a spot on earth where the tendencies of
the heart to depart from God are more effectually counteracted,
and where the soul comes in more direct contact with the objects of faith, than the closet.  Prayer directly leads to the
mortifying of unbelief in its very root and element, by opening a direct intercourse with heaven. Men may be unbelieving anywhere else, but in fervent supplication before the
mercy-seat they do and must believe that there is a God, and
feel that they are standing " in a temple resounding with awful
voices, and filled with holy inspirations." It is by shunning
this sacred spot that the world gains such an ascendency. It
/ is from the neglect of this duty of secret prayer, more than from
any other single cause, that arises the low, and feeble, and inoperative faith of multitudes. Their faith is the faith of education-a faith which they might have though there were not a
single truth in the Bible-or it is the faith of fashion, of systems of philosophy —or any thing rather than the faith of the
closet, the faith which results, as it were, from the direct contact
of the mind with the things of an unseen and spiritual world.
2. Our faith may be increased by examining the evidence
of divine truth. In all his demands God deals with us as intelligent beings, and instead of requiring faith without or against




THE INCREASE OF FAITH.                 105
evidence, he requires it only in view of evidence. It is not,
indeed, always true that faith ever bears an exact proportion
to the degree of evidence perceived. A perverse heart can
reject any degree of evidence. One Christian with less evidence presented to his mind, but with a higher measure of sanctification, may possess stronger faith than another who sees
more of such evidence, with a heart less holy. Still, as natural causes tend to their effects, so an increase of evidence is
allied to an increase of faith.  On this principle it is, that God,
in his works, has multiplied around us the proofs of his being
and perfections; and in proportion as we examine these traces
of his eternal power and Godhead, will our faith increase in
the reality of his being and his presence. On the same principle it is, that so much of the inspired volume is occupied,
not in presenting directly either doctrinal or practical truth,
but the evidence of that truth.  It is not merely to produce the conviction, once for all, that the Bible is true, but to
revive and enlarge our views of that evidence, and thus to confirm and increase our faith. The effect is in perfect accordance with the natural operations of the mind. What Christian
could, as an eye-witness, survey the works and wonders which
God has wrougllt in attestation of this holy book, and not find
his faith strengthened? Let him., with this well-authenticated
history of these facts in his hand, revert to their actual occurrence. Let him thus go back, for example, to the scenes of the
Saviour's life and death; let him witness the blind restored to
sight by his word; let him hear the dumb speak; let him see
the lame walk, and the dead arise; let him go to the foot of
the cross; let him follow his Saviour to the tomb; let him see
the angel descend and roll away the stone from the door of the
sepulcher; let him see the Son of God rise from the dead; let
him, as it were, eat, and drink, and talk with him; let him,
like Thomas, thrust his hand into his pierced side, and like that
disciple, he will be no longer faithless, but believing, ald, like
him, in the language of wonder and love, he will exclaim, " My
Lord and my God I"
5*




106          THE INCREASE OF FAITH.
3. To the same end we must cherish a deep and-an abiding
sense of the mean and degrading nature of earthly things.
One grand reason why the faith of men is so weak and inoperative is that the mind is so ]nuch occupied with the objects of
time and sense. These so engross the thoughts and sensibilities of the soul, that the objects of faith have no influence, or,
at most, that which is feeble and fluctuating.  The only
remedy is in the correction of these views of the world. We
must see and must feel how low and fading are these objecs;
how poor and transitory are all earthly things; how vain the
fairest prospects; how false the most glittering hopes. Would
we carry about with us a continually just estimate of.what man
is, as a being created, at first, in the image of God, and destined
to eternity-rescued from condemnation to endless death by
the stupendous mercy of God-called by the gospel to seek for
glory, and honor, and immortality-capable of contemplating,
resembling, and enjoying God-how  childish, how trifling
would appear the pursuits of men-how degraded the character of him who is sunk in the love of wealth and pleasure and
honor-how forgetful of his first duties, and of the high destination from his God! Such views would teach us to rise above
the trifling temporary scene around us; for we should look
for a city which hath foundations, whose builder and maker is
God. VWe should acquire an increasing practical impression
of the unsatisfactory and inferior nature of worldly objects;
we should readily drop them fiom our grasp, that we might
lay hold on things which are not seen and are eternal.
4. Closely connected with this subject is the kindred one of
keeping death and eternity continually in view. Certain it is
that this world is never overcome but by intent meditation on
another; nor shall we think much of another while we regard
its realities as confused and lost in an uncertain and distant
futurity. But let death be brought near to our minds-let us
carry about with us an habitual sense of the frailty of these
tabernacles of clay, and of our exposure to drop every moment
into the grave-let the realities of an eternal world break in




THE INCREASE OF FAITH.                 107
fully upon us, and how should we learn to despise the turbid
and transient pleasures of this world, for the pure and unfading
glories of eternity. If, then, we would increase our faith,
death and judgment and heaven must be much in our thoughts.
We must especially bring near to our hearts the purity and
bliss of the saints above. We must aim at the love, and peace,
and joy which constitute their happiness, and pant after more
of that life of God in the soul, which we hope to possess perfectly in his presence hereafter. Such anticipations of death
-such near visions of heaven-such aspirations after its light
and its holiness-such foretastes of its employments and delights, will not only mortify our hearts to the world, but will
invest the future scenes of hope with the aspect of reality.
Our faith would grow so strong as to make us feel that our
residence on earth is a pilgrimage, and quite absorb us in the
greater work and greater prospects of eternity. We should
feel as beings surrounded by the unvailed objects of a spiritual
world, and endure as seeing him who is invisible.
5. Another means of increasing faith is its repeated exercise,
in retirement and meditation, as well as in the business of life.
Every natural faculty, and every moral principle of the soul,
is strengthened by exercise. The power of evil habits is universally acknowledged as adequate to a fatal resistance of all
moral influence to change. Not less powerful would be habit
in a holy course, were it equally confirmed by exercise and
indulgence, to resist the temptations to sin. Nor is there any
holy principle capable of more decisive confirmation by exercise, and of rising to a more absolute dominion in the soul,
than faith.
At the same time, man is a fallen creature, so quickly occupied with objects of sense, and so easily losing sight of his
higher destination, that there is no safety but in a continued
apprehension and vivid impression of eternal things. The
stone forced up the mountain does no more certainly roll back
when the impelling cause is removed, than the Christian sinks
uTnder the influence of worldly objects when faith languishes.




108          THE INCREASE OF FAITH.
Nor is the temptation ever intermitted. The world is about
us, within us, on our right hand and on our left. The most
vivid moral impressions, unless repeated and often repeated,
will, like the morning dew, be brushed off by our necessary
contact with the world, or exhaled by the sun of worldly prosperity. Ience the absolute necessity of retirement and meditation, as well as constant watchfulness against the influence
of worldly things. We must retire from the world-we must
resort to that sacred retreat where we shall be alone with
God and the things of eternity. Daily should we look into
this holy book, as revealing to us the things of another state
of being. We must accustom ourselves to reflection and
thought. WVe must bring before the mind the great realities
which the revelation of God discloses, and arrest them and
hold them to the eye of the mind and the sensibilities of the
heart, and we must look, and still look, till the impression is
felt-till the objects rise and swell to something of their real
magnitude —till the effect becomes fixed and incorporated, and
till we can go out amid sensible objects, and carry the holy
and sanctifying influence of the things of another world along
with us. Thus in the very business and bustle of life our
thoughts would recur to the topics of retired meditation. Our
worldly schemes and purposes would be formed and pursued
under some just estimate of the comparative value of things
temporal and things eternal. We should walk by faith. Unseen realities would come so near as to occupy the field of
vision; the glare of worldly objects would fade away in the
brighter splendors of heavenly things, and we should feel and
act as living and moving amid the scenes of eternity.
6. Important to the same end are just views of the truth
and faithfulness of God. God has given to his people exceeding great and precious promises. The only ultimate foundation on which faith can rest in these promises, is the unchangeable truth of God. Especially when we consider how
often the best men sin against him and forfeit his favor-how
they multiply their provocations and dishonor their covenant,




THE INCREASE OF FAITH.                109
we shall see that they need all the truth and faithfulness of
God to sustain and invigorate their faith. The faithfulness of
a creature would fail here. We need a firmer foundation,
even the faithfulness of him who clhangeth not. Nor is there
perhaps any single topic of contemplation better adapted to
strengthen the faith of the children of God than the faithfulness and truth of their heavenly Father. When they consider
those attributes which raise him far above every temptation
to deceive-that the very attributes which move God to promise prompt the whole Deity to fulfill —that in every age and
in all the circumstances of man he has been faithfull without
variableness or shadow of turning-that in his very nature, as
the eternal, self-existent God, he changeth not —then they can
repose in his declarations an unwavering faith. In proportion
as they meditate on God, will this only foundation of their
faith become firm, and they will feel that resting here they
rest on the eternal Rock. Neither sins nor provocations will
shake the basis of their hopes. The changes of earth and time
may threaten to invade their peace, empires may rise and fall,
friends may betray, or sicken and die, but, whatever else may
change God is the same forever. Whoever else may be deaf,
God will hear; whoever else may deceive, God abideth faithfull. By such views of God unbeli.ef will be weakened and
faith encouraged to anchor her hopes with unshaken confidence in his eternal covenant.
I proceedIII. To consider the desirableness of increasing our faith.
This appears fiom the character it gives, the consolations it
imparts, and the glory for which it prepares.
1. From the character it gives. All the defects and blemishes of Christian character may be traced to the want or the
weakness of faith as their cause. It is through the imperfection of this principle that the character of man is formed so
much by the influence of objects that here surround him.
Every mall is what his object is. lNor can we well conceive
of greater deformity and degradation of character than that of




110          THE INCREASE OF FAITH.
an intelligent and immortal being whose character is voluntarily formed by the exclusive influence of the low and fleeting vanities that here solicit human pursuit. What prostration of his faculties! I He was made in the image of his God.
What frustration of the great end of his being! He was destined to eternal fellowship with God in character and blessedness. He retires from, or rather rejects all that moral influence
which would render him a kindred spirit with angels, and
sinks and grovels with the beasts that perish. Nor is the guilt
and moral turpitude of such a character less conspicuous or
less odious.  What obligations to his Maker are slighted;
what contempt of the glorious designs of God in the erection
of a moral kingdom and in the formation of man as its qualified subject and active instrument of Jehovah's glory;-and
all this, too, in direct resistance to the overtures of grace
and forgiveness through an incarnate Redeemer!  To such
degradation and guilt even the Christian in his present state is
lamentably subject. How shall he be rescued?-what is the
redeeming principle?  FAITI.  The sum of all moral excellence in man is Christianity embodied in practical results by
faith. The complete influence of this principle would form a
character corresponding with the truths of God's revelation, as
the image answers to the seal. It would give a substance and
reality to eternal things which would annihilate the practical
ascendency of temporal things. It would correct his wrong
estimate of things and bring him under the exclusive power of
every high and holy motive. God would be with him; the
portals of glory would be open before him; and thus surrounded by divine objects his heart would imbibe their influence, and he would feel and act as living and moving amid
the scenes of the eternal world. He would be like God, for
he would feel and act under the same influence which awakens
the affections and prompts the works of God.  In such a
character we should see an exemplification of the power
of faith-we should see a living image of the Son of God,
in all the moral beauty and majesty of one walking as




THE INCREASE OF FAITH.                 111
Christ also walked. I need only ask, is such a character desirable?
2. From the consolations which faith imparts. It is not only
the prerogative of faith that it adds to our peace and our joys
in the prosperous scenes of life. Here, indeed, it moderates
and directs, and governs our desires and expectations from the
world —it gives serenity and contentment instead of the corroding cares and agitations of a worldly spirit —it gives to
every blessing enjoyed the enhanced value of a gift from an
eternal and an unfailing friend; and awakens that gratitude,
which, purified and invigorated, will hereafter pour the tide of
ecstasy before the throne of God. aBut its power is still more
triumphant in scenes of affliction and trial. To the eye of
faith every event has a tendency and an aim. Nothing is
accidental-nothing without a purpose. Amid all that is dark
and dreary, in the storms and tempests of this world, the sun
of the believer's hopes is still shining in his strength. Faith
shows him his God in the mild majesty of his parental character"From seeming evil still educing good,
And better thence again, and better still
In infinite progression."
Faith penetrates the unseen world; and with heaven in
view, with all its glories dawning on the sight, how must the
light afflictions of a moment be lost when set in contrast with
that far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory!
Nor do its consolations fail at the hour of death, or when
the believer is called to judgment. Never indeed does he look
at death without seriousness, nor forward to judgment without
humility. Yet he often looks at both with composure, yea
with triumph. By faith he is enabled to lean on his arm who
has destroyed him that has the power of death, and to put
away the tremblings of guilt. Faith sheds light on the darkness of the tomb, and looks to the morning of a glorious resurrection. Faith brings eternal glories near, and discloses, in
earnests and foretastes, the joys of heaven, and sees the dark




112           THE INCREASE OF FAITH.
valley opening into the paradise of God. Faith rests its confidence on the atoning blood of Jesus, and on the threshold of
eternity authorizes the triumphant shout-" O death, where is
thy sting? O grave, where is thy victory 2" Faith appropriates
the righteousness of him in whom there is no condemnation,
and conducts fearless to the judgment-seat. Faith, then, can
welcome death, for it is sleep in Jesus-the rest of heaven. It
can welcome the judgment too, for that is the day of the consummation of its hopes, the day of eternal triumph, in which
the believer will be seated on his throne above, to hold the
palm of victory and to wear the crown of life.
3. From the glory for which it prepares. Preparation for
the glory that shall hereafter be revealed must be begun in this
world. It must be begun in that character, which is the only
true appropriate preparation for the services and joys of
heaven. The happiness of heaven must result from the objects
of heaven, and the capacities or fitness of the soul to derive
happiness from those objects. If the character be formed here
by the exclusive influence of the objects of sense, if all the
desires and affections be confined to these, there can be nothing
in the world of spirits to meet and satisfy a single desire of
the soul. The character, then, must be formed by other objects-the desires and affections of the soul must be fixed on
things above-it must thus become capable of -heavenly joys,
or in vain were it admitted into heaven itself. But it is by
faith, and by faith only, that the influence of these divine and
glorious realities can be felt in our present state. Without
faith, the immortal spirit must be exclusively occupied and influenced by objects of sense, and all its powers and capacities
be contracted and shrivelled to the limits of those of the animal creation. But by faith, we live as seeing things invisible.
By faith, we extend our views beyond the material objects
around us, and bring realities which lie beyond the organs of
sense as realities no less present to mind. By faith, eternity
links itself with time, and there is no chasm in our existence.
The kingdom of God is within us. The same objects of affec



THE INCREASE OF FAITH.               113
tion touch the heart, the same sources of joy pour their
streams upon the soul, and the same character is formedwhich are found in the residence of the blessed. Thus faith
joins heaven to earth, and sings in this vale of tears the same
song that love and gratitude and joy will sing before the
throne of God and the Lamb. Faith beholds the order, the
harmony, the happiness of the heavenly hosts, the person of
the great Mediator, the glories of God, and the joys of his
presence; and thus that character of the believer, and those
capacities of the soul are formed here on earth, which are its
preparation for the purity and employments, and bliss of that
world of light and glory. As his faith increases, his preparation for heaven increases; and he partakes here below, in enlarged measure, of that perfection and those joys which shall
be completed when faith is lost in sight, and when we shall
see as we are seen, and know even as we are known.
And now, my brethren, do we not need an increase of faith?
Do the divine realities, disclosed to us by the revelation of
God, have that moral influence upon us which they ought to
have? If heaven and hell, if God and Christ were regarded
in some such manner as visible objects are regarded, would
not Christians be better Christians? Would it not give them
a more holy elevation above the world, and impart a firmer
reliance on the promises of God, and wake up a more decided
spirit of devotedness to his service? We can be at no loss for
the answer. Let us, then, strive to cherish and strengthen
this divinely-inspired principle. As the fruit of the Spirit, let
it be our fervent prayer to him without whom "nothing is
strong, nothing is holy," " Lord, increase our faith." Let
us resort to every means of its increase, and give full scope to
its operation. How exalted, how divine the character it would
thus impart-what support and consolation it would bring to
the laboring spirit in every struggle, even in death itself!
What a radiance it would shed on our every path —what
light it would shed on the dark valley-what triumph impart even at the foot of the judgment-seat-what meetness
8




t114         THE INCREASE OF FAITH.
for fellowship with God and the Saviour, in the glories of his
kingdom!
Let us then labor more, and pray more for increased power
of faith. Let us give it that most full and comprehensive exercise as it becomes redeemed sinners, even faith in the great
atonement of the Son of God. In the contemplation of the
cross of Christ, all the great truths of the gospel are presented to
us. Here it is that the character of God in its brightest glories
is unfolded -here it is that our own character and state also
are presented, the evil of sin and its just condemnation-here,
the matchless love of Jesus and the full purchase of his atoning death-here, the motives to holy obedience —here, the
doom from which we hope t6 be delivered, and the joys to
which we hope to be brought, are all placed before us in their
clearest light and most impressive power. Here, then, let us
give new vigor to our faith. Come and let us cast away our
sins and our solicitude, and again trust the truth of the living
God. To-day, let us believe the record which he hath given us
of his Son-to-day, let us bring our souls under the influence
of eternal realities. Let us look beyond the materialism that
surrounds us. Let us give to faith the power which is her
own —even to open the celestial gate —to pierce the vail that
conceals the paradise of God, and to look in on its glories.
Then wherever we are, in this or in other worlds, shall God, and
Christ, and the things of heaven be with us and all around us
-then shall we live under their holy, sanctifying power, and
shall be pressing toward the mark for the prize of our high
calling, and then, in a little while, receive the end of our faith,
even the salvation of our souls.
I ought not to conclude without calling these churches to
that faith in their covenant God, which this season of revival
demands. God is in the midst of us, by his Spirit. God is
here, to accomplish the greatest of his exceeding great and
unfulfilled promises to lost men. God is here, multiplying the
trophies of his mercy and the heirs of eternal glory. God is
here, with that sacred influence, that silent, pervading power




THE INCREASE OF FAITH.               115
of his Spirit, which alone reaches and softens and subdues the
rebellious will of man, and restores to his soul God's image in
righteousness and true holiness. God is here, to convert, to
bless, to save, with an everlasting salvation, parents and children, husbands and wives, brothers, sisters, friends and neighbors. Souls dead in sin!-oh, what death so strong! —are
made to live! Oh for that faith in God which takes hold of
God's counsels and God's promises! Oh for that faith which
shall give fellowship with a suffering, dying Saviour-faith
which shall realize that the power of the Holy Ghost is on the
minds of this community! Who is the Christian that will not
believe it, and will not act as if he believed it? Who, as it
amid the scenes of an apostolic day, will not, with a true heart
and a whole heart-will not now, enter into fellowship with
the Father, the Son and the Holy Ghost in the work of saving
the souls of men? Who will stand back from this work at
such a time, and so become a blot and disgrace to the cause
he professes to espouse, and a judgment and a curse on the
community in which he dwells?




IX.
GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN.
JOB xxxiv. 33.
"Should it be according to thy mind?"
WHEN we consider that there is a God of infinite perfection
at the head of the universe, extending his providence to every
event, and making it the expression of his will, it seems to be
the plainest of all truths that such creatures as we are, ought
to be cheerfully subject to his disposal. When we reflect still
farther, that he left not the world he made to perish in its own
wilful apostasy, but purchased again his own creation by the
blood of his Son, that he has taught us to regard this unspeakable gift as the measure of his love and the pledge of all
things, and that he has revealed himself as a covenant-God
giving security to this charter of blessings, not merely by the
attributes of Godhead and the immutability of promise, but also
by the confirmation of an oath-duty seems too cold a term to
express the glad submission and grateful confidence due to
this wise, and gracious, this insulted, and yet indulgent God.
Time was, when submission to God on the part of man was
not deemed grievous. In Eden, that happy residence of purity
and love, neither marred by defilement of sin, nor darkened
by the clouds of death, our first parents walked with their
Maker in all that filial submission of unwavering confidence
which a continual sense of his perfections and love inspired.
The will of man and the will of his God were one. But man
would be wiser than his Maker; and vainly imagined that, in
consulting his own will, higher satisfaction was to be found
than in according with the holy will of a perfect God. In the




GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN.              117
same path of miserable adventure have gone, ever since, his
blind and unhappy offspring.
To be convinced of this truth, suppose instead of the course
of disappointment and trial and sorrow which, in the providence of God, is the appointed lot of man, they were permitted
to choose for themselves-suppose the direction of events were
to be so committed to them that every pang and sorrow, to
which they are now liable, could be avoided, and every blessing and joy, which can be the object of their wishes, could
be secured, how many would show any practical regard for
the glory of God and their own spiritual good as connected
with the present course of his providence?  What evil has
been endured by most men which they would not have prevented, if they could, even at such a sacrifice?  And with a
prospect so bright as to be shaded by no cloud of calamity,
how many, that it might be realized, would not be willing to
take the government from the hands of God into their own,
and rejoice to be at their own disposal? The consciousness of
thousands answers that, in many cases, our will is better than
God's, and, were we on the throne, it should be according to
our mind.
To develop this form of human selfishness, and to show
how unbecoming it is in such a creature as man, let us consider it;
I. As highly presumptuous. Look at the lesson of experience. In all their estimates, men are not merely liable to
mistakes, but they constantly fall into them. What scheme
of earthly happiness was ever fully realized? The very events
to which men are chiefly indebted for their happiness are not
of their own contriving. The results of their own plans are
brought about in a manner utterly unthought of, and in a
course totally unlike any they would have adopted had they
thought of it. Just when we have laid the plan of life, formed
those friendships and ties, and begun to enjoy the circle in
which we would wish to live and die, an unexpected stroke
disappoints our hopes, and lays all our schemes in the dust.




118      GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN.
With whatever toil, and care, and wisdom we have reared the
goodly structure —whatever security we may fondly imagine
we have given it from every storm that blows, an unseen hand
interposes and overturns it from the foundation. So universally is this the experience of man, that as he advances in life,
the lesson becomes more and more impressive; he grows distrustful of himself, tired of weaving plots which a single cross
accident may entangle, or which unravel of themselves, and
end in nothing. It is, then, the testimony of experience, that
we neither understand well how to choose events, nor how to
control them. Is it not presumption palpable that refuses,
under such lessons from our own experience, to resign ourselves cheerfully to the disposal of a beneficent God, for the
sake of being the arbiters of our own destiny?
But the presumption is still more strikingly apparent, if we
reflect on our own incompetence to govern. That we may
direct wisely, or wish wisely, it is necessary to know the
events in their connections, relations and results, both as they
may affect our own interests and the greater interests of a
world, and even of the universe. But can we even look
through time?  Can we cast an eye over immensity and
through eternity? Do we know so much; do we so approximate omniscience that we can survey, with prophetic vision,
the darkness of futurity, and unfold in luminous delineation
the connections and results of even a single occurrence? A
providential event, afflicting to us, portending, according to
our best means of judging, the sorest calamities, occurs. But
what do we know of the reasons which have led to it, in the
mind of him, who rules the universe?  Whatever may be
proper for us to do for the purpose of preventing beforehand
certain probable, and in our view, calamitous events, what
have we to do at explanation when they have come to pass?
Can we unfold the whole design; can we be sure that what
we regard as an end, is not merely the means, or what we
suppose to be the whole, is only part; that what we lament
may be a blessing, and what we desire only a curse; that




GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN.              119
what appears to be confusion and calamity may be the bright
progress of order and joy; and that what appears to be the
woes of Jehovah's wrath, may only be the prelude to the richest triumphs of his love? It may be dark, mysterious, unfathomable! Does it therefore become us to object, to dictate?
The providence may be deeply afflictive and grievous, but,
Christian, thy God hath done it; —should it be according to
thy mind or his?
The presumption of this form of human selfishness is still
more striking, when we reflect on our inability, by comparison or contrast. The reasonableness of submission is, in the
nature of things, proportional to the infirmities of him who is
called on to submit and the competence of him who claims his
submission. All agree that in early childhood, implicit submission to parental government must be exacted. *What, then,
is man-and what is God?  M1an-how ignorant, how erring,
how powerless, how depraved and perverse-a creature of
yesterday, whose foundation is in the dust, who is crushed before the moth, who knows nothing-a worm of the earth.
Where is he? In a dark spot in the creation, placed in a vale
whose high surrounding mountains bound every prospect save
only that of the heavens above him-this is the being who sets
himself forth a candidate for Jehovah's dorminion. What is
God? tIle is the eternal, self-existent, indelpendent Creator, of
whom, and to whom, and through whom are all things. lie
is the Almigllty. HIls understanding is infinite; with him is
light and no darkness at all. He it is wholm heaven and the
heaven of heavens cannot contain; God is love, whose glory
is above the heavens, the joy of angels, whose song makes all
its pillars tremble as they sing, " Holy, holy, holy Lord God
Alhighty, which was, and is, and is to come; blessing and
honor to him that sitteth on the throne." This is the Being
whom vain man would displace, that he might be his successor
in empire! Weak, erring, helpless man, leave dominion with
thy God. What presumption in the thought that " it should
be according to thy mind!"




120      GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN.
II. This desire, if accomplished, would be fatal to the highest
and best interests. The glory of God, that full expression of
his perfections in the highest good of the universe, what would
become of that? What an utter failure of that consummation
of all things, were man to be the disposer of events? To say
nothing of his utter incompetence, it would be taking from the
helm of the universe the benevolence of a God, and placing in
its stead that selfish mind which is enmity against him.
The effects would not be less fatal to the interests of any
community. View man in any social relation under the influence of that individuality of interest which appropriates
every thing to self. The power in one, would create all the
horrors of tyranny. The privilege in all, would awaken all to
war upon each other's peace and happiness without cessation.
When would the rains of heaven descend?-when would the
sun shine in his strength? -when would wars cease?-when
would peace be perpetuated?-when would any providential
event, that is necessary to the subsistence of the world, take
place, if the concurrent will of men were to be waited for?
It would be equally fatal to the individual interests of men.
Who, with the privilege of choosing all things for himself,
would not choose unwisely, through rashness and inconsideration; amid the embarrassments, and difficulties, and calamities
connected with any course he might propose, who would be
able to choose at all-who would have resolution to incur a
present loss, or present pain, for future good-who would not
be governed more by imaginary evils and wants than by his
real interests?  How would men change their conditions; the
poor, their poverty for wealth; the low, their obscurity for
fame; the busy, their ceaseless occupation for leisure; in short,
how would the burdens, the cares, the toils, the trials and pains
of one condition prompt all to an eager exchange for another,
and still each remain as dissatisfied as ever, and go on complaining as before? Each would embark on the enterprise of
mending his earthly condition, and hasten away from his
present state, elated with the hopes of paradise. Each would




GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN.                 121
still find the world the same tedious wilderness, every path of
which is filled with thorns and briars, and overhung with darkness and gloom.
But to have things according to our mind would be still
more fatal to our spiritual interests. In this case, how differently should we order events from the manner in which God
orders them! How many of the trials and afflictions of life
should we refuse to bear!  How different our whole path
through it! As it is, God who is rich in mercy; God, whose
peculiar attribute it is to educe good from evil, directs all —
directs all in that manner which is best adapted to promote
our highest, even our spiritual and eternal good. Our earthly
parents correct us after their pleasure. The Father of spirits
for our profit, that we might be partakers of his holiness. Oh,
how imperfectly we estimate the value of things! If we duly
considered what it is to be partakers of God's holiness, and
that each and every event that befalls us is appointed by his
wisdom to promote this end, could we even wish one providential event to be other than it is? To be a partaker of the holiness of God is the highest point of exaltation-imagination
can ascend no higher. If we are partakers of God's holiness,
we shall also be partakers of God's happiness. For holiness
and happiness are one. It is sin that separates these sister
seraphs on earth. God would unite them here, and by his
providential appointments would perfect that union for its
final consummation in the heavens. Oh, how little do we
think of this! God speaks plainly, audibly, but man will not
hear. One mourns the loss of the partner of his bosom, who
gave to life its sweetest joys; and he is ready to ask why are
his desires crossed and his prospects blasted? God does it to
humble and to prove thee, to make thee a partaker of his holiness. Another has laid wise and promising schemes of wealth
and prosperity; but unforeseen events occur and defeat them.
Hie blames this or that person, and wonders that he should be
thus doomed. to misfortune. God has done it, to make him a
partaker of his holiness. Another sets out with high expectaVol..- 6




122       GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN.
tion of fame and eminence, to be reached by scientific acquirements. Disease interposes and blasts all his prospects. How
crnel!-he is ready to exclaim. But God has done it-how kind
and gracious!-that he might be a partaker of his holiness.
Htow many thousands had never learned the vanity of the
world, but persisted in the path of death, and gone over the
precipice of hell, had not God defeated their counsels and
their schemes! It is well that God does not consult us. Like
undutiful children we welcome not correction. Stupid and
insensible, careless of our own interests, and still more unconcerned for the great designs of God, we lament our hardships,
and labor only to forget or avoid them. It is the hand and
the heart of paternal love. It is the God of mercy aiming to
make thee like himself in holiness and blessedness. Repining
child, "should it be according to thy mind?"
III. This state of mind is highly offensive to God. It betrays almost every evil temper and disposition. It shows a
sordid attachment to our own selfish interests. Who in the
heyday of health and prosperity, of the enjoyment of friends
and earthly good, is heard to complain of a mysterious Providence-who, then dissatisfied with God's government, is wishing to govern himself.?  Who is especially disturbed by the
progress of events in other countries, or those which befall
other mene?  Oh, no; it is when these events affect us-when
they interfere with our schemes and defeat our wishes-it is
then only that all is dark and calamitous —then only that God
is incompetent to govern. And what does this prove?-that
our schemes and plans, our interests, are all-important in our
estimation; and that what becomes of our spiritual good-what
becomes of the kingdom and the glory of God-is no concern
of ours.
This desire betrays also dissatisfaction with God. If we
were not dissatisfied with what he does, why should we wish
for the privilege of doing better? If it were enough for us
that under God's administration every event, no matter what,
falls into its proper place, that each and all are arranged in




GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MIAN.              123
luminous order, to subserve the purposes of God, and that to
change one would be the subversion of the end of his goodness; and if what satisfies God were satisfactory to us, why
should we wish to alter even the fall of a sparrow?
It bespeaks ingratitude to God. What are these providential events which we so often wish to change? The appointments of God-the expressions of his kindness to us-" angels
sent on errands full of love;" and yet we complain, and wish
that something better than angels might be sent. All is not
right, for " it is not according to our mind." God should gratify
us, though to our ruin; God should not thwart and disappoint
us, even to secure to us a participation of his nature and his
blessedness. What more ungrateful than thus to complain of
the kindness of our heavenly parent? The wisdom, the power,
the goodness of Jehovah are employed for our good, and we
are dissatisfied and thankless!
This state of mind is direct rebellion against God. To govern the world is the prerogative of God. To wish to change
the administration at all is an invasion of that prerogative, and
high treason against the King of kings.'The place of man is
the footstool, not the throne of the Eternal. To submit, not
to reign-to acquiesce, not to direct, is his duty. The spirit
that refuses compliance is a spirit of revolt. The spirit that
would change one event of Providence, by changing God's administration, is a spirit of war on God. It is prepared to rear
the standard, and carry the triumphant shout of rebellion up
to the throne of the Almighty.
It is distrust of God. When the day is bright, and every
scene delightful, then we confess and adore and trust the bountiful Giver of our blessings. For then we see, or think we see
him concerned for our well-being. But let God retire behind
a cloud —let his dispensations become trying and mysterious,
and we feel that all these things are against us-the specific
design, the ultimate results, are not understood-the reasons
are beyond our discovery —God is no longer seen, and therefore is no longer trusted. Now we long for the prerogative of




124      GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN.
government, and disdain that repose and quiet which spring
from confidence in a reigning God. But what more vile than
such a state of mind in a being so blind, so helpless, so dependent, so sinful, as man? Think of the God whom he distrusts-a God not angry even when he chastens, but whose
frowns are but the graver countenance of love-a God to whom
he is invited to look up, in the midst of affliction, as to a tender
Father-a God who, by promise and by privilege, has done all
that can be needed-more than can be asked or conceivedfor his support and consolation. His is the promise, if he confide in him who makes it, that all things shall work together
for good. His is the promise, if he be like his Saviour in suffering in this world, that he shall be like him, too, in glory and
happiness in a better. His the privilege, amid all the changes
of this life, to lift an eye of joy and confidence upward, and to
be led ever by the hand of heaven; his the privilege to find
in God an almighty refuge, an unfailing fiiend, and all-sufficient portion. It is not enough that God is everywhere, that
God does it —not enough to know that God's glory and his
happiness may be one-not enough that he is everywhere surrounded by the visible form of God's perfection —man would
have it according to his mind; and now because he cannot,
and because he cannot see the reasons and utility of the event,
because he has none but God to trust, he feels himself undone.
I need not say how offensive to God it is to be willing to trust
him no further than we see him. What if he vails his glories,
conceals his reasons-what if he wraps himself in clouds?
Who does not hear his voice, "Be still, and know that I am
God?" And who shall not obey?
REMARKiS.
1. Submission to the divine will is necessary to secure the
blessings which we need. We may indeed desire the enjoyment of blessings or the removal of calamities, and at the
same time submissively leave the event with God. It is our




GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN.               125
privilege to make known our wishes to God, with confidence
in his wisdom and goodness to give or withhold what seemeth
good in his sight. But far removed is such a state of mind
from that which demands the blessing, and which insists upon
having it-that comes to the Almighty with " I will not take
no for an answer." It is these rash, unqualified desires-these
enforcing claims that will not bear a refusal, which God abhors
for their presumption and their guilt. These are desires the
gratification of which would be a curse to us. If God in such
cases would bless us, he will be sure to refuse what we desire.
As a wise and faithful parent, he will see our willfulness subdued, before he gives us the blessing. He will delay till he
sees our impetuous fondness, our eager desires, subside into
confidence in him, and submission to his will; he will wait till
we can think of the Giver as well as the gift. This is the wise
and gracious economy of God's procedure. And if we would
be blessed of him, we must cease to order —cease to prefer our
unqualified claims-cease to be engrossed with any gift or any
blessing which we judge needful.  Ve must come to the
temper of the Saviour, and when we say, " Father, if it be
possible, let this cup pass from me," we must be careful, yes,
as careful as if the judgment-day were at hand, to add, " Nevertheless, not MY will, bUt THINE be done."
2. Acquiescence in the divine will is a duty which respects
all events. We are not to feel that while some events are
to be acquiesced in as the expression of the will of God,
others should be according to our mind. This is no uncommon feeling, not even with good men, in reference to two
classes of events-those which affect their spiritual interests
and those which take place as the consequence of human
agency or conduct. Here we are apt to feel that we are privileged to choose for ourselves, and to complain if we are not
gratified. True it is, that the promotion of our spiritual interests always accords with the will of God; we may desire it
unqualifiedly. But then, to order the ways and means of promoting these interests, as they are affected by providential




126      GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN.
events, is a prerogative which our covenant-God reserves to
himself. Whether, as his children, we shall be allowed to
unite in the ordinances of public worship, or be confined to
the bed of languishing, or be prevented from attendance by
domestic duties-whether we shall be placed where the gospel
is seldom or imperfectly, or unskillfully preached, or where its
instructions are heard every Sabbath, as dispensed by an angel
from heaven-whether, in a word, our providential circumstances shall be such as we might deem most desirable or not,
God appoints them; and whatever they are, if we are his children, they are the BEST for us.
Under trying events, brought about by the will and agency
of men, submission is equally called for. Hiere we are apt to
forget that God governs; to feel that it is as right that our
will should be gratified as the will of those who oppose us,
and to be so dissatisfied if we are thwarted and defeated, as
perversely to abandon even the plainest subsequent duties. My
brethren, what if the apostles had felt and done thus-what
if, under the opposition, and reproaches, and sufferings, and
deaths they met, from the hands of men, they had forgotten
God, and renounced the service of their divine Master? What
had been their consolation, what had been their guilt, and
what had become of that gospel which we enjoy and which
has carried salvation to all the nations? What if they had
said: If we cannot, through the perverseness and hostility of
men, have it according to our mind, we will murmur and retreat, and do nothing?.Yes; and what if the Son of God had
felt and done thus when the cross was in prospect? The light
of salvation would never have dawned on this guilty worldthe message of pardon from God never greeted a human ear;
and if Christians should feel and act thus, that light, bright
and glorious as it is, would be extinguished within half a century, and the world be shrouded in all the gloom of despairing
guilt. God forbid, brethren, that we should have thoughts
like these! The God with whom we have to do hath the
hearts of all men in his hands, and though he is never the




GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN  MAN.                127
author of their sins, all their doings are under his providential
government; and whatever they are, whatever interest of ours
they may defeat, whatever costly sacrifice they oblige us to
make, they are as truly a ground for submission as an express
command from the voice of God himself.
3. Let this subject support us under the trials of this world,
and animate us in our way to a better.  If, under the defeats and disappointments, the crosses and the trials of life,
we would, with a full conviction of the presumption, folly,
and guilt of the desire, ask ourselves-" Should it be according to our mind?"-how much the burden of earthly calamity
would be lightened! How it would smooth the troubled sea,
would we yield ourselves to be borne peacefully on its waves,
instead of entering into contest with its surges! It is our selfwill, our controversy with events, or rather with God, that is
the grand source of our unhappiness under the trials that befall us. Let us, then, under every adverse event, every cross,
however trivial, and every affliction, however calamitous, check
our feelings of revolt, by asking,.'Should it be according to
my mind? or according to the mind of him who worketh all
things according to the counsel of his own will?" Oh! could
we set God always before us; could we live, as it were, surrounded by the visible forms of his perfections, and make our
will one with his, how it would soothe and cheer this weary
pilgrimlage on earth!  In the darkest hour, and amid all the
terrors and dismay of the heaviest tempest, light would beam
upon us from the eternal throne; and that voice be heard: "It
is I, be not afraid!" Trusting in God, I can stand on a falling
universe and triumph there.
True it is, we are now in a world of trials; it is the place of
discipline, of correction; we need the rod, we shall often feel
even severity in its strokes. They will be for our profit; and
shall not the heir of glory submit-shall he mourn and be sad,
and murmur under the means of preparation for his inheritance? " Wherefore lift up the hands which hang down, and the
feeble knees; and make straight paths for your feet." Beyond




128      GOD JUDGES BETTER THAN MAN.
this vale of tears is a better country, even an heavenly. Soon
the toils and troubles of the way will be over; and there, on
those hills of salvation, you shall look back on the path of
your ascent, and round on the glories of your abode, and praise
him who brought you thither. In his light you shall see light,
and the works of providence, the works of grace, and the
works of glory will be the theme of one eternal song —" Great
and marvelous are thy works, Lord God Almighty; just and
right are all thy ways, 0 thou King of saints!"




X.
THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY.
MATTHEW Vii. 12.
L" Therefore all things whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even
so to them: for this is the law and the prophets."
THE light and warmth of the sun no more clearly bespeak
the hand that formed it, than the excellence of this rule of conduct declare it to be from God. Human wisdom, by actual
experiment, has proved itself incapable of discovering a rule
adequate to the regulation of human conduct and the security
of human happiness. But, that contained in our text is no
sooner presented to the mind of man than its excellence and
its obligation are seen and confessed. A single glance shows
us that the cause of all the misery in this world which results
from our intercourse with one another, is disobedience to this
divine precept; and that so far as our happiness depends on
one another, that perfect obedience to this rule would bless
every child of Adam.
Although no rule is perhaps so universally admired, yet
none is more universally broken. It is easily understood as a
rule by which others should regulate their conduct toward us,
but little known, in its true import, as a rule by which we
should regulate our conduct toward them.
My design isFirst, To explain the rule;
Second, To show its obligation.
I. In explaining the rule, let us examine the different parts
of it.
"All things whatsoever."  This clause declares its universal
6*                                           9




130 THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY.
extent. It is not a rule which is to regulate merely some
parts of our conduct toward our fellow-men, but all parts of
it. We may do some things, perhaps many things, to others
which we would wish them to do to us, and yet in many other
things be wholly and habitually selfish. A man, for example,
may give food to the hungry, but habitually overreach and
defraud. In such a case it is plain not only that he breaks the
rule in the latter instance, but that he has not a spirit of conformity to it in the former. The language of our Lord is all
things-all things whatsoever. Let it be settled in any one
thing whatever, that you would that men should do it to you,
and you are required so to do to them. There is no exception.
" All things whatsoever ye would that MEN should do to you, do
ye even so to theub"-not some men, not your families, your
friends, your acquaintances, but men. No matter who he is,
whether friend or enemy, if he is a fellow-creature, one of your
own species, a man, you must be governed by this rule in all
that you do toward him.
"Do ye even so." In this clause we are directed not only to
do the things themselves which we would that others should
do to us, but also to the utmost exactness in doing so. Do ye
even so. Do exactly these things; nothing less than this is
allowed; all this is required.
" Whatsoever ye would that men should do to you." This
clause is of especial importance, because it is by what we
would that others should do to us, that we are to determine
what we are to do to them. Before we act we must in every
instance inquire what would we that another should do to us.
What, then, are we to understand by the clause, whatsoever ye
would that men should do to yo~u?
It has commonly been supposed, by commentators, that a
literal interpretation of this text is inconsistent with other
plain scriptural duties, and that therefore the rule isto be explained by certain qualifications or restrictions not expressed
in it; for our desires of good from others may be selfish and
extravagant, and to make such desires the measure of what we




THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY.  131
are to do to others, would in many cases be doing what is not
required, as well as what is forbidden. For example, a rich
man may feel and say, " If I were in that poor man's place
and he in mine, I should wish him to give me his estate; and
now, if I am to do as I would be done by, I am to show him
the same kindness, and give him my estate." This difficulty
evidently arises from inadequate views of the text. The rule
contains its own explanation and limitation. If I am to do to
others as I would that they should do to me, then I am to love
them as I love myself; not them more than myself, nor myself
more than them. If, therefore, I were to give my estate, if I
were rich, to a poor man, I should do that which in this respect would imply that I loved him more than myself, which
would be a palpable violation of the rule. Besides, how can
I, putting myself in the poor man's place, wish another to give
me his estate-wish that he should impoverish himself to enrich me, without violating the rule. In this very wish I am
desiring my own happiness more than my neighbor's, and thus
I counteract the very spirit and letter of the rule itself. I am
cherishing a selfish desire when I imagine myself in the poor
man's place. I am saying, if I were that poor man I would be
as selfish as I well could be. In deciding what we would that
others should do to us-i-. e. in forming our desires of good
from others-we are to remember that we are to cherish the
same desires to impart good to them. Thus one desire is to
check and regulate and define the other. Thus the rule aims
directly at the utter extinction of all selfish inordinate desires
of good, and requires simply that what we would on disinterested principles desire from others, were we in their circumstances and they in ours, we are to do to them.
Let us examine this a little further. We are to do to others
what we would on truly benevolent principles desire from
them. The existence of the happiness of one man, other
things being equal, is of equal value with that of another.
The simple fact that the happiness of one of the two is mine,
gives it no additional value. It has precisely the same value




132 THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY.
as when it is the happiness of another. All the value which I
can reasonably attach to my happiness, because it is mine, he
can as reasonably attach to his, because it is his. All that I
am to myself he is to himself, and all that I am as it respects
him he is as it respects me. The reason why I should regard
his happiness as much as my own, circumstances being the
same, is as plain and conclusive as that things of equal value
ought to be equally loved or desired.. If therefore, I have a
right to any given treatment from my neighbor-to any act of
kindness from him-he, in the same circumstances, has the
same right to the same treatment or acts of kindness from me.
If my right lays him under obligation to me, his right lays me
under the same obligation to him.
There is a great diversity in the character and stations of
men. It is very desirable there should be, and as it is not in
our power so it is not our duty, on principles of true benevolence, to wish to alter them. There is, therefore, a consequent
variety of duties owed to men. But we can easily determine,
by the rule before us, what these duties are. We can easily
imagine ourselves in the place of others and others in our
place; we can then easily look into our minds and ascertain
what treatment we should wish on truly disinterested principles from them, in such change of circumstances. When this
is ascertained the question of duty is settled.
Thus a ruler is to treat his subjects as he would wish to
be treated were he a subject. But he is not bound to yield
that submission to his subjects, which as a ruler, he justly demands of them. This he could not do without sacrificing the
public good to private interest-i. e., he could not do it on disinterested principles. For, if he were a subject, he could not
on such principles wish for the submission and obedience of a
ruler to himself. A judge is not required to acquit, though he
might on selfish principles wish, were he the criminal, to be acquitted, because he could not on benevolent principles wish the
laws of justice to be abandoned, and the guilty to go unpunished. Thus, too, a parent or head of a family is not required




THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY.  133
to neglect to promote the welfare of his own household, to
promote the welfare of his neighbors, because on truly disinterested principles he could not wish his neighbor to do so by
him. So, also, an individual is not required to sacrifice his
own happiness to promote an equal degree of happiness in another individual, because it is as right that the former should
enjoy it, if but one can enjoy it, as that the latter should; and
therefore the former could not, on truly disinterested principles,
desire that the latter-should do so by him. On the same principle we are not required to put our property into common
stock for the equal benefit of all. This would tend, as a general
rule, to promote so many evils, that if we were poor we could
not on benevolent principles desire it.
The amount of this rule of our Lord is, that in determining
what our duty is to others, and in performing it, our selfishness is to have no voice and no influence. We are required to
make the case of another our own, to put ourselves into his
place, and thus absolutely to divest ourselves of every particle
of selfishness-thus absolutely to escape its influence in the
judgment we form of our duty, and in the actual performance
of it. It is as if our Lord had said: Regard your neighbor in
his wants, his rights, his happiness, as another self. Ask,
then, how, as a reasonable, disinterested man, you would be
treated by him; and treat him exactly in that manner.
I proceedII. To enforce the duty.
1. God has commanded it. The duty is enjoined in the
form of a command in the text. It were easy to show that
every command in the sacred table of the law is only a branch
of this precept. If, then, we owe any duty to our fellowcreatures it is this; we, in fact, know no other; and if this is
not performed none is performed.
The only question, then, is: has God enjoined on us any
duty toward man; and, if he has, is that duty binding?
2. The duty is obviously reasonable and right. Let any man
consult his own reason and conscience, let him only hear the




134  THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY.
precept, and he needs no other counselor nor casuist; he
knows and feels its binding power, and is self-condemned if he
breaks it. It is written indelibly on his conscience, and he can
no more escape a sense of its obligation than he can annihilate
his sense of accountability. Every man desires his neighbor
to rejoice in his welfare, to sympathize with him in his afflictions, to relieve his distresses, to promote his happiness, to be
tender of his reputation and not to slander his good name, to
put a kind and not a harsh construction on his conduct, to be
kindly affectioned toward him and not angry or malicious, to
be forgiving and not revengeful toward him, to be just and
honest toward him in his dealing, not to overreach or take
advantage of his weakness or unwariness. If he be a servant
or a subject, he would not wish his master or the magistrate to
treat him as a tyrant. If a master or magistrate, he would
wish his servant or subject to be faithful and obedient. Let
the appeal, made to any one: have you not these desires and
wishes with regard to the conduct of others toward you?
Do you not know and feel that such is the conduct which
others ought to show to you? Then, while legislating for
others, you have passed a law for yourself. For who and
what are you, that you are to be treated thus by your fellowmen, and yet are allowed to treat them as you please? Are
not you of the same species-have you rights which others
have not? Are not their rights as sacred and inviolable as
yors? Are they not as dear and as important to them as
yours are to you? How, then, can they be under this sacred
obligation to respect yours, and yet you be entitled to an
exemption from mutual obligation to them?  My hearers, we
know we are not. We may as well persuade ourselves that it
is lawful to murder, as that it is lawful to depart from this
precept in a single instance.
3. This rule has a most direct and effectual tendency to promote the happiness of men. The greatest, far the greatest
portion of misery suffered by men is produced by themselves,
and that, by disobeying the precept before us. For if men




THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY.  135
were actuated universally by this principle there would be no
wars, no tumults among nations, no jealousies and contentions
in families, no animosities in neighborhoods, no oppression,
fraud, or injustice, or overreaching, no drunkenness, lewdness,
gambling, no avarice, pride, ambition. And, brethren, annihilate the miseries produced by these things in the world,
and how would its dismal' surface be cheered and brightened! All men would be friends; universal justice, truth,
goodness, gentleness, kindness, compassion, candor, forgiveness, attended and surrounded with the brighter train of deeds
of beneficence, would reign and fill the world. At the same
time, the very obedience to the precept itself would, in itself,
constitute a sum of happiness far greater than would be communicated by it. For it is more blessed, more happy to give
than to receive. By such a change, how would the sufferings
that would remain, shrink to an atom, and the curse of God,
that lies so heavily on the world of sin, be lightened and forgotten! And is not such a rule of conduct binding? Is there
an individual, whatever others may do, who may venture
safely to break the precept and thus to prevent, so far as in
him lies, this amount of good; yea, an individual who can
safely incur the guilt of putting his hand to the work of thus
augmenting the miseries of man?
4. Obedience to this rule is the most ennobling character of
man. The spirit inculcated is the very opposite of selfishness;
and selfishnlless is the very substance of moral degradation.
No man is so distinguished for meanness in every age, as he
who is prominently and in every thing marked with sordid
selfishness. We are often beguiled by an external semblance
of disinterestedness: but remove the garb-let the selfish heart
be unmasked-let it be seen in its desires, affections, purposes, wishes, plans and actions, its envy, its unmercifulness,
its oppressions, its insensibility to others' wants and woes, its
frauds and deceptions, its prostration of all that is or can be approved or loved at the feet of self, and we contemn and abhor
it. No object beheld by mortal eye can be so contemptible




136  THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY.
and so deformed. But behold the man who loves his neighbor as himself! Behold him raised, as it were to heaven,
by the principles just described; behold his heart fixed on
the good of his fellow-men, his friends, his enemies, his neighbor, and the stranger, as on his own happiness! What is there
lovely, what of good report, what of moral beauty, that does
not shine in such a character? How mean are the proudest
heroes of this world compared with that obscure and, perhaps,
despised man who loves his neighbor as himself-compared
with her who deposited her last mite in the treasury of the
Lord! How like an angel of mercy does that woman appear
compared with that man or woman who, surrounded with
wealth, lives only in self-indulgence!
Here is true dignity, the dignity of apostles, the dignity of
angels; shall I say, the dignity of Jehovah! Yes, it is the
self-same principle of doing to others as he would that they
should do to him, that moves all the energies of the eternal
God. Is it not real greatness to be like him?
5. We can neither be fit for, nor admitted into heaven
without this character. The word of God no less decisively
denounces exclusion from heaven for sins against our fellowmen, than for those committed against himself. "Be not deceived," saith the apostle, repeating the very acts of selfishness,
"neither fornicators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effeminate, nor abusers of themselves with mankind, nor thieves, nor
covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners" (and,
as he says in another place, after giving nearly the same catalogue), " nor they that do such things, shall inherit the kingdom of God."
At the same time, it is impossible not to see in every page of
the Scriptures the necessity of a fitness for heaven which consists in the subjugation of selfish to benevolent principles, and
which are all summed up in one expressive term, "IHo~lness,
without which no man shall see the Lord."  Whatever be our
state of mind, or the nature of our principles here on earth, it
cannot but go with us into eternity. The character of man at




THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY.  137
death will become unchangeable. He will go with a heart to
relish the joys of heaven, or with a conscience to inflict the
eternal pangs of conscious guilt. The spirit of benevolence is
the spirit of heaven-the feeling which warms and blesses
the highest angel and the lowest saint.  The temper of
selfishness is the corroding fire of the eternal pit: the soul,
under its dominion, stung by its insatiable desires, whose present food is wholly withdrawn, has no parallel in this world.
"Within him hell he brings, and round about him."  Selfishness here, is hell hereafter. How striking the contrast, how
deep and broad the gulf between this and the happy lot of
a soul that bears the spirit of heaven, and dwells in that
world of love! And is not the rule which enjoins this spirit
binding on man? Say not, no one ever kept it; no one
does to others as he would that they should do to him.
Disobedience ever so constant, ever so bold, will not repeal the eternal law of the eternal God, nor abate its eternal
penalty.
R EMARKS.
1. We see that many things which are deemed consistent
with this rule of Christ's are direct violations of it. Of this
class many things might be enumerated, did time permit. I
can only mention a few. The duelist, who enters the field to
take the life of a fellow-creature, pretends to plead that he consents that his antagonist should take his life, if by superior skill
or fortune he can do it, and asks, where is the crime of doing
to others as we are willing they should do to us? The gambler too, vindicates his sloth and fraud by the same plea. He
consents that his fellow should take his property if by skill
or luck, or even fraud, he can do it; and when he takes the
property of his neighbor, beggars his family, and ruins his
reputation and perhaps his soul, he also asks, where is the
harm of doing as I am willing to be done by? The artfill, wily tradesman, who by undue commendations of his own




138   THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY.
goods, and, in a case of barter, by depreciation of his neighbors' by partial statements, or if hot, by falsehood and concealment of truth respecting the qualities, the cost, the current
price, the rise and fall of markets, imposes on the credulity,
flatters the vanity, overreaches the ignorance, and decoys the
unwariness of customers, tells you he is willing to be treated
in the same manner; if others can get the advantage of him in
these ways, let them; he has no objection; and where is the
harm of doing as you are willing to be done by? Doing as
you would be done by! Is this doing as you would be done
by? Why does the duelist consent that his antagonist should
take his life if he can do it? That he may have an opportunity
to take that of a fellow-creature. Is this being willing to give
up his life to another from motives of disinterested love? MZust
one or the other die; and rather than that his neighbor should
die, does he consent to die himself? Why, too, is the gambler,
or the man who takes undue advantage of his neighbor in trade,
willing that others should do to him as he does to them? For
the same reason substantially, as it respects the morality of the
act, that governs the duelist. They are willing that others
should treat them thus, that they may obtain, or at least have
the opportunity of obtaining, their neighbors' property without
an equivalent. For, if they are really willing their neighbors
should have their property without an equivalent, why not
give it to them directly? My hearers, such is the deception
which men practice on themselves, in these and a thousand
other cases. They are not willing to do as they pretend; the
proof is, that they do not do it. They are at most willing to
run the hazard of being injured themselves, for the privilege
of injuring their neighbor. Their own selfish desires of good
are the standard by which they act. Only bring this conduct to the rule in the text, and how easily its obliquity is
detected-how easily it is seen that all such practice arises
from downright selfishness, tends to injure others, yea, is designed to please and benefit themselves at the expense of a
neighbor's ruin. For the principle that takes a cent from him




THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY.  139
without an equivalent, would take his estate or his life. Let
us then, my hearers, be undeceived on this subject. Let us
remember that much which is supposed to be consistent with
this golden rule of our Lord Jesus Christ is a direct violation
of that rule and a contempt of his authority; that "much which
is highly esteemed among men is an abomination in the sight
of God."
2. We remark that there is very little genuine morality in
the world. By morality, we generally mean right conduct
toward our fellow-men in all respects. But what is true morality-what is right conduct toward our fellow-men?  Is it
the offspring of selfishness —is it just that, and no more than
what our own self-interest allows or demands?  Is it to be
measured by what the world deems sufficient-is it that which
will pass well in point of respectability-is it that which distinguishes the decent and sober part of the community from
the grossly vicious and abandoned?  No. What, then, is the
true standard of morality, of right conduct toward our fellowman?  Our text. What is its true nature?  It consists in
doing to others as we would that they should do to us. This
is morality-morality such as God commands and God approves. It proceeds from right principles. It governs the
man; it blesses its object. And now, where is it? Which
feature is most prominent in the human character-doing as
we would be done by, or doing as we are done by? Where is
the idol SELF not worshiped? Who does not feel the necessity of watching his own concerns, by guarding against the encroachments of. others-who finds no collision of interest or
pursuit with his fellow-man? H ow audibly does the practice
of the great bulk of our race say, let each one take care of
himself! How  extensive in trade is the maxim  adopted,
"Keep what you have gotten, and get what you can;" in beneficence, " Charity begins at home!" And under the influence
of such axioms, where is the justice, the honesty, the charity
which the Lord Jesus Christ enjoins? Let us compare, for a
moment, the character and state of men, the ignorance, the sin,




140  THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY.
the sorrow which prevail in the world, with what we know
would be the effect of the holy principle before us, did it
exert an influence only within moderate limits, and we shall
have an answer which should make us blush and tremble.
3. How it would commend the religion of the gospel to all,
if there were more of the spirit of the text manifested by its
professors. I need not say how much reproach is brought on
the gospel by these unholy lives. When a heathen could say,
with truth, to a missionary of the cross, "' If your religion be so
much better than ours why are you yourselves no better than
we?" —what reply would be made?  And when the world
around us see professors making no more conscience of justice,
honesty or charity than other men-as deceitful, as over-reaching, as slanderous, as unforgiving, as sordid, as covetous as
they —what will they think of religion?  I know they reproach us often unjustly; I know there is more of hatred than
of truth in their censures, and that often the best men are reviled the most. But can nothing be done to commend the
religion of the Lord Jesus Christ? Yes, one thing will do it;
the spirit and practice of doing to others as we would that they
should do to us. Let this be seen, and it will command the
homage, if it does not stop the mouth, of a gainsaying world.
Stand at a visible distance from the meanness of a selfish
spirit, from all deceit and covetousness. Stand aloof from
an unkind and unforgiving temper. Let it be obvious that
you do make some sacrifices of private interest for others' good
by a largeness of liberality, and an extent of beneficence proportioned to your known ability; leave no ground for the suspicion that you have not another and a better spirit than the
world around you. Who then could doubt the reality or the
excellence of the religion of Christ? Your devotional acts
may be construed into formality and hypocrisy, and be denounced as making no difference between you and them; but
the practice, which evinces the spirit of our text, will form a
broad and visible line of distinction. And if it does not bring
them to the feet of your Master with cordial submission, it




THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY.  141
will lay them there in silent respect. Let us, then, study the
import, and imbibe the spirit of this divine rule. Let us open
our hearts to its high and holy sanctions. My brethren, as
you regard the authority of God, the rights and happiness of
your fellow-men, a resemblance to the Lord Jesus Christ; as
you would recommend his gospel, and save souls from death;
as you would escape the present infamy, and the eternal torments of insatiate selfishness; as you would become fitted for
the presence of the holy and benevolent God —"All things
whatsoever ye would that men should do to you, do ye even so
to them."
4. I cannot close without remarking, how much we all
need a Saviour! I say all; for, let it be noticed, that to condemn what is wrong in the professors of religion, does not
justify what is wrong in those who are not. If the former are
so imperfect-even those who have something of true disinterestedness toward men-what shall be said of those who have
none of it? And now, I appeal to each and to all of you-can
you lay your hand on your heart, and before God, who sees it,
say that you have, in every instance of conduct toward man,
" done to others as ye would that they should do to you?" If
not, you are condemned; for this is the law and the prophets,
and " cursed is every one that continueth not in all things which
are written in the book of the law, to do them."
_May I not ask many, if you have done this in one instance;
have you ever been rescued from that spirit which, in all its
desires and all its acts, makes self its center? Tried, then,
only by the second table of the law, what are your hopes?
If you love not your brethren whom you have seen, how can
you love God whom you have not seen? What will all your
morality, your honesty, uprightness, charity amount to with a
heart that has no love to God or man? It is a mere covering,
a thin vail, which hides that heart from yourself and from
others. But how will it dissolve by a look from the omniscient
eye! Oh, depend not on it for acceptance at his bar-build
not on this rotten foundation! Morality, morality, morality



142 THE RULE AND THE TEST OF MORALITY.
with a hollow heart —will not commend you to God. You
must, fellow-sinner, have another dependence to save you from
the pit. You must be washed in the blood of Jesus; you
must, if you stand at all before a holy God, stand in isw righteOUsm88.




XI.
SINGLENESS OF HEART.
MATT. vi. 22, 23.
"The light of the body is the eye: if therefore thine eye be single, thy whole
body shall be full of light. But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of
darkness. If therefore the light that is in thee be darkness, how great is that darkness I"
THE object of our Lord in this figurative declaration is to
illustrate the influence of practical principles. The point of
comparison is this, that what the eye is to the body, the commanding principle of the heart is to the whole moral man.
The eye is the light of the body. It is that by which all its
motions and actions are guided and directed. If the eye be
single, clear, unclouded, and properly directed, the whole
body is full of light; all its motions are made with safety,
precision, and certainty. But if the eye be evil, diseased,
and, by consequence, its vision dim and obscured, the whole
body will be full of darkness; all its motions will bespeak the
want of light; the feet will stumble, the step be uncertain,
the hands will miss their aim, and every attempt at motion
result in confusion and disappointment. If, then, the light
that is in thee be darkness, if the eye of the body be thus.
blind, how great is the darkness-how will every member of
the body, thus dependent on the eye, be lost and useless to
all the purposes of life!
Such is the literal import of the text. Its application is
this: our Lord, tO enforce the warning against amassing
treasure upon earth, gives this important reason, " For where
your treasure is, there will your heart be also."  Whatever a




144            SINGLENESS OF HEA RT.
man regards as his chief good, on that, his heart-his supreme
affections-will be fixed; and by that will all his specific
opinions, affections, desires, purposes, and actions be regulated and controlled. What, then, the eye is to the body, the
practical estimate and regard which a man forms of his chief
good is to the whole moral character.  If the eye be incapable of vision, the whole body is doomed to all the evils of
utter darkness. So, if the practical estimate which men form
of their good be not according to the truth and reality of
things, the whole moral man is doomed to error, to sin, and
to ruin.
To illustrate and confirm this truth I remarkI. That the practical estimate which every man forms of his
chief good respects either God or the world as its object.
These are the only sources of good, of any kind or degree,
which are opened to man. If we look at his capacities of enjoyment, as he is constituted by his Maker, we see that he is
utterly incapable of any other happiness. Take God and the
world away, and the universe, in point of enjoyment, would
be to man an absolute desert. Experience tells us this. From
what other source, beside one of these, did man ever attempt
to find, or ever dream of finding, happiness? If you look into
the Scriptures no third source of enjoyment is named. Here
all departures from God are ascribed to the temptations which
the world presents; all men are represented as taking their
portion in the good things the world affords, or as finding
their happiness in God as their portion. The impossibility of
serving two masters is expressly asserted, and the whole race
classified as the servants of God or the servants of Maarnmon.
Every human being, then, practically esteems God or the
world as his chief good.
II. This practical estimate determines on which of the two
objects the heart is fixed. Here, it is necessary to distinguish
carefully between a speculative estimate or judgment, and that
which is practical. A speculative judgment is a mere act of
the intellect without any regard to a practical end. It is the




SINGLENESS OF HEART.                 145
same thing employed respecting practical objects, as when
employed respecting those which are not practical. Thus, it
is the same employment of the mind which judges of the comparative beauty of different landscapes or the comparative intellectual greatness of two men, as that, considered as an act
of speculation, which judges of the comparative excellence of
God and the world as the portion of the soul. Accordingly,
thousands form this judgment correctly, on whom it has no
practical influence. Where is the man that would not say
that the living God is a better portion for an immortal being
than this vain and transitory world?  Now a practical estimate differs essentially from this. It is an estimate or judgment which respects practical things, formed for the very purpose of practice. It implies a state of mind prepared to render a practical submission to the judgment formed; and, accordingly, a judgment thus formed by an irreversible law of
our nature is sure to carry the heart along with it. The heart
is the great practical principle of the soul; and when the
judgment is made for practical purposes- that is, with a state
of mind prepared to follow the judgment in actual practice,
the judgment and the heart always accord. "Where a man's
treasure is, there his heart will be also."
Now, the great moral calamity of our race is, that they
never, when left to themselves, put the mind into this attitude; they never come to the question whether God or the
world is the proper portion of the soul, with a state of mind
prepared practically to submit to the judgment which they
shall form. Their practical estimate is already made. They
regard the world as their chief good, and are resolved to take
it as their portion. A supreme regard to the world in some
form, or in many forms, as it appeals to ambition, to covetousness, to the love of ease or of pleasure, this supreme regard to
the world becomes their predominating principle, their commanding purpose,*which controls and characterizes the whole
man. This is that " evil eye" which makes "' the whole body
full of darkness."
Vol. I.-7




146            SINGLENESS OF HEART.
On the contrary, when one truly has come to the question
whether God or the world is the portion of the soul, with a
state of mind prepared practically to submit to the judgment
that shall be formed, the judgment formed is, that God is
the proper portion of the soul; and the heart according with
the judgment, fixes on this object. In his commanding purpose he takes God as the portion of his soul. Here he sees
that his chief good, his highest happiness lies; and his main
object, his grand aim is, by obedience to the will of God, by
actively glorifying God, to secure this great end of his being.
This is that " single eye" which makes " the whole body full
of light."
By this supreme regard to God as the portion of the soul I
do not intend to exclude all regard to our temporal interests.
This is not to be expected, nor is it required. The thing
required is that desire to please and serve God as our chief
good, wliich possesses a controlling influence, which refuses to
make no sacrifice which God demands, nor to perform any
duty which God enjoins.
Nor is it pretended that the strength of this principle, always, in this world comes up to the divine requisition. There
is a distinction between the sincerity of a principle and its
strength. The principle of life is as real in infancy as in mature age, though its vigor is weakness in one compared with
its vigor in the other. So the principle in the Christian may
be weak, and yet be real; it may essentially differ from the
commanding principle of all other men, although it be imperfect in strength. It may be often overpowered by remaining
internal corruption, and external temptation. Still it will ultimately prevail, and triumph over all opposition. It will bring
every thought into obedience to the will of God, and prepare
its subj ect for a celestial throne.
I proceed now to consider the influence of this state of mind.
" If thine eye be single, thy whole body shall be full of light.
But if thine eye be evil, thy whole body shall be full of darkness."




SINGLENESS OF HEART.                 147
Let us consider the influence of this state of mind;
1. On a man's knowledge and belief of the truth. No one
can have attentively considered human nature, without seeing
how much the opinions of men are affected by the state of the
heart; and how much more perfectly they understand those
subjects which it is for their interest to understand, than any
others. If a man's heart, then, be right with God, the great
truths which God has revealed to influence man to act up to
this end of his being, will be truths which he will especially
wish to understand. It is on this principle that our Saviour
has declared that if any man will do his will, he shall know
of the doctrine. The doctrines of the Bible, as distinguished
from its precepts, are those truths which supply the motives
to holy obedience. Of course, when the heart is fixed on rendering holy obedience, there is not only a willingness, but a
desire to understand those doctrines which furnish the motives
to such obedience. On the contrary, while the heart is fixed
upon the world, and opposed to the humbling, self-denying
plan of salvation which the gospel reveals, it is to be expected
that it will cherish an aversion to the truths which disclose
that plan, and be peculiarly disposed to error. Such a man
would be apt, we should say-almost with the assurance of
prophecy-very apt to raise objections, invent evasions and
cavils, and refuse to see and understand those truths which
directly tend to disquiet and harass him in his state of determined worldliness and sin. Indeed, how is it possible, that a
man who is determined to live in sin, and to cherish hopes of
impunity, should at the same time be willing to see and understand those truths-and thus to place himself under their
power-which tend to demolish all his hopes, and make him
tremble as on the brink of damnation?
When the heart is right, there will also be a correspondence
between the doctrines of the gospel and such a state of mind,
which will enable a man to perceive the truth and force of
many doctrines of which he had otherwise remained ignorant.
His own experience, the accordance of feeling with these




148           SINGLENESS OF HEART.
truths, will lead him to understand what a man without such
experience would never discover.  He whose commanding
purpose and supreme desire is to glorify God by obedience to
his will, will be apt to see the high standard of obedience
which God has given. Of course, he will the more clearly
perceive how far short he falls of the perfect obedience required. This will prepare him to understand the strength of
depravity within, to appreciate the value of atoning blood, to
welcome the revealed necessity of divine grace, and to give all
the glory to a God of sovereign mercy. While the man who
has had no such experience, though he may be orthodox on
many points, will be sure to embrace error enough to turn
from his conscience the power and presence of these great
truths of the gospel.
INor do these effects of a right state of the heart respect
merely the doctrines of the gospel; they respect, also, the preceptive parts of Christianity. In the interpretation of the precepts, and in determining the duties of religion, there is much
room for perversion-even in the plainest cases —when the
heart is not right. Thus a man whose worldly interests seem
to demand the violation of the Sabbath, can easily persuade
himself that the declaration of the Saviour-" The Sabbath
was made for man"-warrants him to travel by land or by
sea, to labor in the field, to examine his accounts, and so on.
Another can easily persuade himself that the precept —" to provide for his own,"-warrants, and even requires him to forget
God, and to disobey all his other commandments. Indeed, the
drunkard often persuades himself that no command of God is
broken, unless all sense and power of motion are destroyed by
strong drink, though he drinks barrels per annum.  In a
thousand cases less palpable, but equally decisive, duty is perverted through the same influence-a wrong state of the heart.
Indeed, no inconsiderable part of the questions of duty are not
provided for by express precept, but are left to be determined
-by general principles in the exercise of an upright judgment.
Without a right state of heart-that single eye-yea, rather




SINGLENESS OF HEART.                 149
with a wrong state of heart-that evil eye-what is to be expected but error?  What is to be expected but that such a
man will misunderstand, will pervert the truths of his salvation, and stumble on in darkness to final perdition?  On the
contrary, if this book be the book of God-if in plainness and
clearness, it is worthy of its author (and who shall say that
God has mocked our wretchedness by giving us an obscure
revelation); I say, if the Bible be plain, nothing can be wanting but a right state of heart to lead a man to understand it.
This will lead him to read it and study it; it will secure to its
declarations the authority and the submission due to the voice
of the living God; it will wake up an anxiety to know and
receive the truth, and furnish every advantage to understand
it through a holy correspondence of feeling. In every point
of view, therefore, a right state of heart tends to produce a
right system of faith, and a wrong state of heart a wrong systemn of faith; so much so, that-amid all the absurdities and
contradictions, and cavils, and misrepresentations, which
thicken in the path of the ungodly, and over which they
stumble into perdition-a nan with a right heart, and the
Bible in his hand, will be surrounded with a light from heaven
all the way to its blissful abodes.
2. This state of mind, described in the text, decides the nature
of all specific and subordinate affections. "' A good man out
of the good treasure of the heart bringeth forth good things,
and the evil man out of the evil treasure of his heart bringeth
forth evil things." It is the very nature and tendency of the
predominant affection, the governing aim of the soul, to spread
its influence over all the particular and subordinate affections,
desires, and purposes of man. To all these the predominant
affection gives existence, and to all these it imparts moral
quality. All the specific affections, purposes, and desires of a
man, whose heart is fixed supremely on the world, will be
worldly. And all these in a man whose heart is fixed on God,
except so far as the weakness of the principle may prevent,
will be godly. The commanding purpose, the governing aim,




150            SINGLENESS OF HEART.
of every man is the treasure of the heart-the source of all
moral acts. It is the tree which produces the fruit, and decides its properties; the fountain from which the streams proceed. As the fountain is, so is the stream; and as the tree is,
so must be the fruit.
More particularly, let a man supremely delight in God —let
it be his governing aim to please him, and he will not only
frequently contemplate the character of God, but every contemplation of him, whose attributes are infinitely glorious, will
awaken love in the soul. The same state of mind must produce gratitude to God; for while it delights in his perfections,
it must especially delight in the display of those perfections in
acts of personal kindness. It will lead to the exercise of submission and confidence; for, as it delights supremely in the
character of God, it will cheerfully commit all things to his
disposal. It will prompt to humility; for, as it delights in
God, it will delight to give him his high supremacy in the
system of being. It will exercise repentance; for sin is dishonorable and offensive to God, whom it loves. It will exercise forgiveness; for it will delight to imitate God, whom it
loves. It will exercise benevolence; for it supremely delights
in God's glory, and to do good is to glorify God. In a word,
as this state of mind supremely delights in God, and in his
glory, and as obedience to the divine will is the means of
pleasing and glorifying God, it tends to produce obedience to
every command of God. It will choose to do what God has
required, because in this way God is glorified, and the great
end on which the heart is fixed is thus obtained. It will,
therefore, make its subject alike the true worshiper of God
before his throne, and the real almoner of his bounty in this
world of sin and sorrow. Thus the whole assemblage of the
Christian graces and virtues, as they adorn the soul and fill
up the character of the good man, proceed from supreme love
to God-from that single eye which is the governing aim of
the man.
On the contrary, let the heart be supremely fixed on the




SINGLENESS OF HEART.                  151
world —let the governing aim be to derive happiness from it,
and all the affections, purposes and desires of mall will be in
exact accordance with his main purpose. It may manifest
itself in the form of ambition or covetousness, or the love of
ease and of pleasure-in any or in all those purposes, passions
and desires which the love of the world occasions. It will
produce, as the occasion of their excitement occurs, all those
criminal feelings toward God and toward men which a selfish
heart can cherish. WVhat is distrust of God, but that selfish
attachment to our own interests that refuses to commit them
to his disposal? What is ingratitude to God, but to value his
gifts as the means of our own gratification, to the exclusion of
all desire to honor our benefactor? What is enmity to God,
but hostility to the perfections of God as arrayed against our
selfish interests?  What is unkindness, envy and revenge as
manifested toward our fellow-men, but the operations of a
selfish desire to engross and secure worldly good? Thus, look
through the whole catalogue of those affections and passions
which debase and defdrm human character, you will find their
source in a worldly heart-a supreme desire of happiness from
the world-sels/hness-the source, sum and substance of all sin.
True it is, that selfishness in one form may restrain selfishness
in another. A selfish regard to reputation may restrain a
selfish regard to wealth from open fraud or violence to acquire
it. Still it is selfishness-be the form of its operation what it
may. Amlbition, unchecked by any other selfish passion, would
wade through seas of blood to reach a throne, or rebel in
heaven for the gloomy satisfaction of reigning in hell. Be the
selfish affection what it may, unrestrained, it determines on its
own gratification at every sacrifice. Be it sensuality, it would
not relinquish a thrill of pleasure; be it sloth, it would not
move a finger to save a falling universe. Thus does the evil
eye, the love of the world as the commanding principle, corrupt and degrade the whole inner man.
But in the case we have supposed, where the heart is right
with God-where it is supremely fixed on doing his will and




152            SINGLENESS OF HEART.
glorifying his name-there, the affections can have no low and
unworthy aims. When such an object engrosses the heartan object so transcendently great and glorious-it inspires the
soul with its own greatness and glory; it assimilates it to itself
and its likeness to God; it rises above all that is sordid and
groveling. Light and darkness cannot be in the same place
at the same instant. God and mammon cannot reign in the
same heart. And when the glory of God is the light of the
soul, like the splendors of the sun, it extinguishes the lesser
lights which glitter before a worldly mind. The Lord and
Creator of the heart there fixes his throne, and all the affections of the inner man bow to him as their supreme Lord.
3. This state of heart will have the same influence on the
external conduct. The man who has not the love of God in
him may indeed be faultless in many points, but his conduct
will be greatly deficient and-erroneous in externals. He will
do and he will neglect to do many things which it were impossible should be done or neglected, did he carry with him
a continual sense of God's presence. By his pleasures and
amusements-by his worldly pursuits and eagerness in themby neglecting his closet and other ordinances which bring him
into contact with God-by his treatment of enemies-by habitually retaining some besetting sin —by the manner of yielding
to temptation —by shunning the society of the godly, he will
betray his real character. Though circumstances may occasion in the visible deportment an imposing semblance of religion, yet let circumstances change, and out of such a " heart
will proceed evil thoughts, murders, adulteries, fornications,
thefts, false witness, blasphemies." Many a heart which can
now so smother its enmity to God as to appear with saintly
devotion in his house, will, in a future world, speak out in
blasphemy through eternity.
But where the heart-the governing aim-is right, there is a
principle which tends to bring every thing right. There may
indeed be some occasional deviation; but deviation will be an
interruption in the general course of conduct. There will be




SINGLENESS OF HEART.                    153
a principle of correction within, which will discover, regret,
and reform what is amiss. For the principle is a  n/iversal
principle; a supreme regard to God will lead to one duty
as well as to another-to acts of kindness as well as to acts of
devotion. It will resist and correct little sills as well as great
sins; for the same authority reaches to one as to the other,
and that authority is God's. It is also a uniform principle.
It allows of no intermission of duty-sanctions no neglect of
duty-admits of no indulgence of a beloved sin. For the
authority which controls the man is God's authority, and it is
ceaseless and eternal like himself It is a pure and holy principle. It tolerates no iniquity-no moral imperfections. It
points to the highest purity; it aims at God's perfect likeness.
It will thus operate with a force ever right, and produce
greater and greater measures of holiness in every part of the
conduct. Conscience will become an active guardian, and
control the man, by the smile or the frown of the Eternal.
The soul will pant more and more after the purity and holiness
of the regions of immortality, and the growing results will
present the most interesting spectacle which earth affordsthe progress of a corrupt, depraved soul rising toward its perfection in the image of God —the transformation of an heir of
hell into meetness for a celestial throne, at God's right hand.
REMARKS.
1. Those whose hearts are supremely devoted to the world,
have reason to suspect that they embrace some serious practical error.
So painful is the light of divine truth to a worldly mind,
when brought to pour its full luster on the conscience;
it so invades the internal quiet of the sinner, that he never
suffers himself to come under its full power and pressure. He
may be correct in faith, except in one single particular, and
yet that single error effectually subserve the purpose of quieting him in his sins. He may admit the doctrine of atonement,
t-rq




154           SINGLENESS OF HEART.
and yet deny the depravity of the heart and the necessity of
regeneration by the Holy Spirit; or he may admit these, and
deny the sovereignty of God in the work; or he may admit
this, and yet hold it with such qualifications and conditions as
to impair all its power on the conscience; and thus the very
truth which he denies may be that, without the belief of which
he never will be awakened, and with the belief of which he
could not rest in sin another moment. " Every one that doeth
evil, hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his
deeds should be reproved." With the heart fixed on the
world, still determined to live in sin, they are tempted to misrepresent to their own minds the truths of the gospel; they
are not willing to understand the plainest explanations of
them, but are disposed to pervert them, to explain away their
pungency, and to cavil and object against them. They know
that they must do this, or yield to their power. They cannot
bear to see their character and state, as God's revelation shows
them.
And, my hearers, let me now ask whether you have that
evidence of the soundness of your views of divine truth which
our subject presents?  Iave you that single eye, that commanding purpose to glorify God, which is so essential to
just views of the truths of the gospel. Can you lay your
hand on your heart and say, that with an honest purpose to
renounce the world and to devote yourself to God, you have
sought to know the truth as it is in Jesus? One grand design
of the gospel is to disquiet and alarm the sinner, to make his
heart meditate terror while he goes on in his iniquity. Now,
can you say that you have been willing that these truths
should come in and lie on your conscience, and give you that
anxiety and distress which they ought to give you? Can you
say, that you thus bared your guilty bosom to these arrows of
the Almighty? Can you say, that you are willing to see your
situation as one on the very blink of damnation, and that you
have welcomed and courted the influence of that truth of God
which made you feel it? If not, you are the man from whom




SINGLENESS OF HEART.                 155
cavils and objections are to be expected. Your heart is not
right. You are not willing to see and to understand. You
have that evil eye-that perverted and obscured vision which
conducts thousands in darkness, to blackness of darkness forever. You are not willing to receive the truth in the love of
it that you might be saved; and for this cause God shall send
you strong delusion, that you should believe a lie-that you
may be damned.
2. Our subject shows us the substantial difference between
the saint and the sinner, and how great that difference.
This difference does not consist in this, that the saint never
sins, while the sinner does nothing but sin. The saint does sin.
It does not consist in this, that the sinner does not as well as
the saint perform some actions which in their external form
are right. He does. The difference lies in moral character —
in their different practical estimate of things and governing
aim. One has that single eye, that practical estimate of God
and the world, which fixes his heart on God as his portion, and
which in its true tendency governs the general course of his
affections and conduct, and consecrates the whole man to his
service. The other has that evil eye, that practical estimate
of things which fixes his heart on the world as his portion, and
gives him over to the complete dominion of selfishness, in all
his affections and conduct. Notwithstanding, therefore, the
imperfections of the saints, there is in moral character a
substantial difference between saints and sinners. This difference is in fact great, like the difference in the object
of their supreme affection. Through time and through eternity this difference will increase. The sins and imperfections
of the one will diminish and disappear; the commanding
purpose of the soul will form and mold it into the perfect
likeness of God, and he shall stand in glory in the heavens.
The depravity and guilt of the other will augment and
heighten-the controlling purpose will seal him  an heir of
hell, and break out in the rage and blasphemy of the damned.
This difference of character carries a dividing line through




156            SINGLENESS OF HEART.
this assembly. It as truly exists, in this house, between those
who are here before God's mercy-seat, as between Paul in
glory and Judas in the pit. It will widen, and still widen, till
one will sit down a glorified celestial by the throne of God,
and another enter into fellowship with the devil and his
angels. As your heart is supremely fixed on God or on the
world, you will be admitted into heaven or turned into hell.
Which, then, do you love most-God or the world? Decide
the question now at the bar of conscience, for it will soon
come up at that dread tribunal that will award to you your
everlasting habitation.
3. Our subject shows the necessity of maintaining a right
state of heart.
How many, it is to be feared, who pay some attention to
religion, perhaps profess it, and express a high respect for
it, who, after all, are strangers to its vital energy.  They
dread a judgment to come, they are afraid of God's indignation, they would appease his displeasure by outward forms,
and by abstinence from gross vice. But where is the heart?
Alas! it is as worldly as ever.  Theirs is a religion of
constraint-they are alive to the world-they are cold and
lifeless for God and his glory. The influence of religion is
occasional, transitory, imperfect, painful —the influence of
worldly affections, constant, uniform, powerful, pleasant.
And, my brethren, how plain is it, that here can be no religion-how plain is it, that the heart must be right! If we
do not keep up a just practical estimate of God and the world
as our portion —if, to secure and make safe our interests here,
be our commanding object-if our greatest concern be not to
glorify God, we had better bid farewell to our religion, and
begin anew. There can be no religion without this commanding, controlling purpose in the soul-none acceptable to Godnone profitable to ourselves. "As a man thinketh in his heart,
so is lie."  If the heart be right, all is right; if the heart be
wrong, all is wrong. As we value the religion we profess-as
we prize its hopes, its consolations, its joys, its prospects, its




SINGLENESS OF HEART.                 157
rewards-let us keep our hearts in the love of God. Let us
often bring up in contrast the love, and favor and glory of
God as the portion of the soul, with what this ensnaring,
tempting, soul-destroying world can give us-let us judge of
the worth of each, with an eternal purpose to act as we judge
-let the question be settled once for all, which is the best
portion for the immortal spirit within-let the eye be single,
that thus we may see things as they are, as God sees thel —
let the world fade away into its true insignificance, and God
and eternal realities occupy our vision. Then shall we live
under the light of God's countenance-then shall this sure
word of God be a lamp unto our feet, and a light unto our
path-then shall we not stumble on the dark mountains; but,
guided by a pillar of fire, shall tread our cheerful way to that
better country, even an heavenly. " Keep thy heart with all
diligence, for out of it are the issues of life."
4. Our subject shows those who are destitute of true religion, what they must do to obtain it.
They must settle it with themselves that their false views
of the world must be corrected, and their hearts taken
from it and be fixed on God. Cost what it may, this must
be done. Religion consists in becoming a servant of God.
You are now living for yourself, for the world. You walk
in darkness, and are stumbling  at noonday-you are hazarding your eternal banishment from God, amid all the entreaties of his love, and quietly speeding your infatuated
way to the fires of the pit-for what? For what this world
can give you. In this state, religion is impracticable. You
must open your eyes upon such madness; you must put
God, and heaven, and Christ, and eternal life, by the side
of the world, and guilt, and death, and hell, and look at
them till you can see the difference; and thus you must
resolve to renounce one, and take the other for your portion. You must resolve to obey God, and to glorify himn, let
the sacrifice be what it may; interest, ease, honor, wealth,
pleasure, all must be given up to this object. Will you make




158             SINGLENESS OF HEART.
the resolve? Will you part with all for Christ, your Redeemer? Will you thus enthrone a sovereign God in your
heart?  Do this, and the work is done.  Will you do it?  It
is not a vain thing —it is for your life.  Your all is at stake.
God requires it. The Saviour calls you to do it. The Holy
Ghost urges you to do it. Conscience forces you to do it.
Heaven, with its raptures and songs, invites you to do it.
Hell, with its smoke and torments, warns you to do it; and
you must, you must be decided.
"Your way is dark and leads to hell;
Why will you persevere?
Can you in endless torments dwell,
Shut up in black despair?"




XII.
PRACTICAL ATHEISM.
PsALM xiv. 1.
"The fool hath said in his heart, There is no God."
THIS is God's world; and yet how godless! God made it,
and the men in it, and yet " in all their thoughts, God is not."
Thus saith the context: "The Lord looked down from heaven
upon the children of men, to see if there were any that did
understand, that did seek after God. They are all gone aside;
they are altogether become filthy; there is none that doeth
good, no, not one."
The origin of this awful alienation from God, this practical
denial of his being and perfections, is traced to the heart, and
the subject of it pronounced a fool. "The fool hath said in
his heart, There is no God." That is, the language of his
heart, its moral state and feelings, are substantially what they
would be were there no God. Such he wishes the fact to be,
and such, so far as any practical influence of the fact is concerned, the fact to him actually is.
I proposeFirst, To inquire to whom this charge may be applied;
Second, To show their folly.
I. To whom does this charge apply?
1. To the avowed atheist.
I{e who can overlook the proofs of the divine existence
which are scattered throughout the visible creation-who call
ascribe all he beholds to accident or chance-who can look up
with complacency to a vacant heaven and down to the grave




160            PRACTICAL ATHEISM.
of annihilation, can neither love nor fear the Being whose
existence he denies. His heart denies it.
2. The charge applies to those who entertain false views of
the character of God.
It is one thing to profess to believe there is a God, and
another to believe that he is what he is. Many there are who
would not deny the divine existence, who yet do deny the
divine character. They deny that he is the righteous governor of the moral world. Their language is, either that he is
indifferent to the actions of men, or that he is too merciful to
punish any of his creatures. But to believe in a God who will
make no discrimination between characters-who regards the
holy and unholy with equal approbation-who will dispense
no future rewards or punishments, is substantially the same
thing as to say, There is no God. The belief in such a being
is no more a belief in God than the belief in a heathen idol
would be. The character of God, as the holy, holy, holy Lord
God Almnighty-that character which constitutes his glory
and the only ground of love, reverence, or confidence, is denied-denied because it is disliked-because the control of
such a God is hated, and his inspection dreaded. Instead of
the just Sovereign maintaining law, the Being who reigns, is
the friend and patroln of iniquity. There 7s, what the heart
desires, no God.
3. The charge applies to those who deny or disregard the
providential government of God.
The Scriptures clearly teach-what is, indeed, the dictate of
sound philosophy-that God is everywhere present to superintend and control all the events of this, and of all worlds.
Fromn this government of God result many of the duties of
man-gratitude, submission, confidence, prayer. HIe, therefore, who under the constant reception of blessings is ungrateful-he who under trials is unsubmissive-he who, under all
the varying dispensations of divine Providence, refuses to
commit himself, his all, to the control of the supreme Disposer
of events -lives without God in the world. His heart would




PRACTICAL ATH-IEISM.               161
not be more entirely unoccupied with those affections and
emotions, which are due to God, than it is, were the gifts of his
bounty and the dispensations of his providence the result of
some well constructed machinery, or of mere accident.
4. This charge applies to those who supremely love the
world.
What does sound reason pronounce concerning the man
who is surrounded by the presence of the supreme Jehovah,
and invited and urged to choose him as the portion of his
soul; who can suffer his thoughts to wander to every other
object except that great Being; who, when called to love the
Being whose glories absorb the spirits of heaven, and stand in
the very sanctuary of his presence, can yield his thoughts and
affections only to an endless series of trifles? Is this treating
God as he ought to be treated; or is it saying in the heart,
Th/7ere is no God?"
5. This charge applies to the man who has no delight in the
worship of God.
Were there any thing to suit our tastes, we would love his
presence. Were we at all sensible of his majesty and glory,
we would delight to adore him. Were we grateful for his
favors, we would gladly render our tribute of thanksgiving.
Were we conscious of our dependence for every blessing, in
time and eternity, we would rejoice to commit ourselves —our
all-to his care and disposal. They, therefore, who neglect
these duties, who shun every place where God appoints to
meet them, who never approach his mercy-seat, in his house,
in the family, or in the closet, act the part of atheism. They
act precisely the part which all men would act, under the persuasion that there is no invisible being on whom they are dependent, and from whom they have any thing to hope or to
fear. They say in their heart, "T Tere is no God:" nor could
they say it in plainer language.
6. The same charge lies against those who live in disobedience to any of God's commandments.
Throughout the intelligent creation, God ought to be ac11




162             PRACTICAL ATHEISM.
knowledged and treated as God. But to treat him, as God, implies that we honor him with a supreme regard-that his authority is decisive with us, and that his will is our only law. He,
therefore, who refuses unqualified obedience, acts upon a principle which subverts the sovereignty of God, impugns his right
of legislation, and which would introduce into the world all
anarchy and woe, which the supreme dominion of God only
can prevent. In what way, let me ask, can any man show
that he wishes there were no God, or that he feels that there
is none, more decisively, than by thus rebelling against him
upon principle? They may profess to know God, but in
works they deny him. They virtually exclude God fiom his
moral kingdom —disclaim his sovereign power-explode his
laws, by denying his existence, and contemptuously demand,
" Who is Lord over us?"
7. This charge applies to all who reject the gospel.
Here, the character of God is displayed in its glory. In the
cross of Christ, he reveals alike his justice and his mercy.
Here, he appears the determined avenger of sin. Here, he
makes known the way of salvation.  Here, he reveals his
promises, and here, denounces the terrors of his wrath. Here,
he unfolds the rich provision made for the souls of men, and
by commands, entreaties, and warnings urges their acceptance.
And what is the effect of it all upon the unbeliever? By his
stupidity in sin, he despises alike the justice and the mercy of
God. By his unbelief, he makes God a liar. By his perseverance in sin, he sets at naught the whole work of redemption, renounces God's authority over him, tramples under feet
the Son of God, counts " the blood of the covenant an unholy
thing," and does "despite unto the Spirit of grace."  What
more could the avowed atheist do? What more, than to disregard this whole gospel-its displays of Deity, its miracles,
its Miessiah, its authority of moral legislation, its regions of
immortality and retribution? Plainly, every such man practically says, there is no gospel-no Saviour-no heaven-no
hell-no God.




PRACTICAL ATHEISM.                  163
I might proceed to specify other characteristics of those
to whom the charge in the text applies.  These, however,
which I have specified, are sufficiently comprehensive to include all whose feelings and conduct do not accord with the
character of the living God, and the relation which he sustains
to man-all who are justly accounted practical atheists.
I proceedII. To show their folly, which appears from the following
considerations:
1. There may be a God.
No human mind can know that there is not. No man,
unless he himself is omnipresent and omniscient, can know
that there is not some other being to whom these attributes belong.  If he does not know  every being in the
nniverse, that being may be God. If he does not know
all truth, that truth, which he does not know, may be, that
there is a God.  If he does not know the cause of all existence-if he cannot, with perfect knowledge, assign the
cause of his own existence, or of the world around him, that
cause may be God. If there is no God, no danger is encountered-no loss sustained-by believing that there is one; there
is real gain. But, if there may 1be a God, who can measure
the folly of firmly denying his being, and all that system of
truth which it involves, and acting accordingly?  The speculative and practical atheist is undone. There may be such a
God as the Bible reveals. The bare statement of the case
makes the reflective mind shrink back with horror from the
thought. To deny the being of a God, when there may be
one; to live in this world as if there were no God; and enter eternity, there to have, for the first time, the full conviction,
by meeting the awful reality!
2. The folly of such a person is still greater, because his belief is contrary to the fullest evidence.
" The heavens declare the glory of God; and the firmament
showeth his handy work." " The invisible things of him from
the creation of the world are clearly seen, being understood




164             PRACTICAL ATHEISM.
by the things that are made, even his eternal power and Godhead."  But he who lives as if there were no God, shuts his
eyes and stops his ears. He will neither see displays of the
glory, nor hear the voice of the Most High. lie lives in the
midst of God's works, but will not notice the effects of his
power. I-e is sustained by his bounty, but will not regard
his gifts. In every work of human art, he knows an artificer
has been employed; but in the infinitely greater and more
wonderful works of God, he sees no trace of wisdom or of
power. Whenl he beholds a fellow-being performing rational
actions, he doubts not that that being possesses a rational soul.
But when God displays his wisdom, his goodness and his
power, in the rolling systems above him, and in every blade
of grass beneath his feet —in the wonderful structure not less
than the wonderful functions of his body; when his soul, in its
faculties and operations, bespeaks itself an emanation of Deity
-when God pervades the universe by an energy which can
be none but God's, still man can shut his eyes on God and
ascribe all that he beholds to chance or fate. Yea, lie can
confess with his mouth, there is a God, and say in his heart,
there is none. Thousands do confess, that they live every
moment in the presence and under the eye of that infinite
Being —that they have no less proof of his existence and character than of those of their fellow-men, or even of their ownthat they live, and move, and have their being in God, and
yet are as free from all marks or traces of his influence on
their hearts as if that God were a fiction. If to act contrary
to evidence in the smallest matters is folly, what is it to be
surrounded with the proofs of God's existence-to acknowledge that there is an almighty Being pervading all things by
his presence, and yet live and act as if heaven, and earth, and
hell were little else than empty space?
3. They who thus practically live without God in the world,
deprive themselves of all real good.
Without faith-practical faith —in God, there can be no rational enjoyment of the world-no true excellence of character




PRACTICAL ATHEISM.                  165
-no comfort in affliction-no peace in death-no happiness in
eternity.
There can be no rational enjoyment of the world. Take
God away, and every thing around us is the effect of the
coercion of fate or the sport of chance. All, which now gives
the highest value to earthly happiness and renders it chiefly
worthy of the enjoyment of rational beings, is at an end.
True, man may enjoy food, and raiment, and rest, as an animal, but to enjoy earthly good with thanksgiving to a divine
Benefactor-to enjoy it, with the hope of its continuance, because he is the object of the kindness of one able to provide
for his wants-to enjoy it, as the means to an end of still
greater value-the means of increasing conformity to the will
of God, of glorifying his name and advancing in meetness for
his eternal presence-were truly preposterous, to one who lives
without God. Thouglh blest with the richest earthly joys, he
is a stranger to every emotion which elevates these pleasures
above the sensations of the brute. WVhat, to him, is accidental
or necessary, comes and goes he knows not how, and therefore,
cheerless and hopeless, is, to the real Christian, directed by the
infinite wisdom, power, and goodness, of the Creator, and
therefore full of expectation, of gratitude, and of comfort.
With every gift, there is a giver, ready still to befriend, protect, and bless. To the one, there is nothing but animal sensation; to the other-besides his comforts and with his comforts -there is a God.
Without the practical belief that there is a God, there can
be no true excellence of character. Every such man places
himself beyond the reach of every motive which ennobles the
human character, and raises man to the end of his being.
God originally made man in his own image. To restore
him to that image, he revealed himself, as the model for imitation and the reward for conformity to his will. In God is
all that can produce in man this transformation and dignity.
Without God there is no rule of action, no accountability, no
futurity, no retribution, no influence to operate on man —to




166              PRACTICAL ATHEISM.
rescue him from the thraldom of sense, and elevate him above
one whose origin and whose end is dust. All that influence
which gives angels their dignity, makes saints their meet companions, and prepares both for fellowship with the God of
eternity, must be unfelt. What, then, is the infatuation of
one who voluntarily places himself beyond an influence so
divine; who, qualified to rise to the dignity and joys of angels,
invited and urged to become like his God, by all his own
glories and all his capacity to bless, sinks himself to a level
with the beasts that perish, by a willful practical denial that
there is a God!
But such a man not only sinks to the lowest point of meanness, but to the lowest degradation of guilt. Uninfluenced by
what there is in God, in his character, his law, or his government, he is, and must be, a supremely selfish being. To seek
and to obtain, at any sacrifice, what is desired, is the very
nature of selfishness. In this world, it is true, the spirit is
often concealed in its true nature and tendency. But take off
the garb; let the real selfish heart be uncovered; let it be seen
in its desires, its affections, wishes, purposes, plans, and actions
-its insensibility to others' wants and others' woes-its deceptions, frauds-its prostration of all good-its production of
all evil-and we abhor it. It arms its subject with the spirit
of an infernal, against God and man, and is the legitimate
cause of all the groans, and miseries, and blood, of earth —
yea, of all the agonies of the pit. It is the very character of
the damned, and the fire which inflicts their torments. It is
true meetness for that place of blasphemy, lamentation, and
woe. Yet such is the real character of all who live without God. Originally destined to the high and refined enjoyment of conscious rectitude-to the purity and dignity of
angels-to bear the image of God, he is sunk to the moral
level of the devil and his associates.  Oh, how fallen-how
fallen is the man who disclaims the dominion of his God!
Such a man has no support under affliction-no peace in
death. Amid all the changes, and disappointments, and sor



PRACTICAL ATHEISM.                  167
rows around us, the idea of a God on whom we rest, and to
whom we may look with hope, is so welcome, that it would
seem as if we should be constrained to admit it, from the
necessity of something to comfort and sustain us, under our
calamities and our weakness. For such a support we look in
vain to our fellow-beings, or to the created universe.  The
wounded spirit can only be consoled by him who made it.
Take but God away, and where-ye who are sorrowful and
afflicted-where-under the loss of friends, and property, and
health-where is your refuge?  Forsaken of its God, what a
scene does this world present! The mighty vision around us
is converted into a feverish dream —a dark, troubled, confused
theater of tears and wailing, where chance sports with our
joys, and unfeeling fate crushes us under calamities. In a
fatherless world man must sit down in the desolation of grief,
with no arm to sustain, no ray of hope to confort him.
But how is the darkness dispelled and the region cheered,
by the visible presence of an all-perfect God-a God who
offers himself to us as our reconciled Father, pledging all his
attributes for our security, our support, and our happiness!
What can measure the folly of the man who voluntarily foregoes this blessed relation to his Maker-who, to be happy in
this world, says "in his heart, Tliere i8 no God?"
And what is his support on the bed of death? Does he meet
it with no misgivings of unbelief-with no unquiet suspicions,
that there is a God? Be it so. He is dying. Physicians have
given him over. The tears and sighs of friends are useless.
He feels the shivering of death's cold hand. And what is
his relief? What his prospects? Does he rest on the bosom
of mercv? There is none to show mercy. Does he look to
heaven with hope? There is no heaven. His consolation is,
that his body is sinking into the grave, to become the food of
worms, and that his soul is trembling into the eternal night of
annihilation. Oh, give me the delusion-if it be a delusionof hope in God, of an anticipated heaven, when I die!
But even this hope of impunity from non-existence, after




1(38            PRACTICAL ATIIEISif.
death, is seldom realized by the avowed atheist. lIe may have
lived an infidel, but, for the most part, he dies a terrified believer. I-ow must he feel, when death comes, who admits that
there is a God, and yet that he has lived as if there were none?
He has been content to forego every connection with the Almighty, except that of danger; and now the moment of danger
is come. No sooner shall that dying body expire, than his
soul-he knows its destiny-shall meet an angry God on the
throne of final judgment. Heaven, that immortal mansion of
glory, he sees shut against him. Hell is already opening under his feet; and with some foretaste of its horrors, he dies.
And where is he?  Oh, who can think of the triumphant
death of the believer, exclaiming, "0O death, where is thy
sting? O grave, where is thy victory?"-" But thanks be to
God, who giveth us the victory." —" For I know whom I have
believed, and amn persuaded that lhe is able to keep that which
I have committed unto himn against that day"-and not see
the folly, the madness, of living without God, and without
hope in the world?
But their measure of folly is not yet unfolded; nor can it be.
Eternity will soon open, with all its dread realities. A God
they would not have on earth; but a God they now must have
to all eternity. A God, in the riches of his mercy, they would
not have. A God, in the greatness of his wrath, they now
must have. A God whom they could contemn, amid all that
he displayed to excite their fear and love, shall now appear in
the overwhelming storms of his vengeance. A God-the view
of whose love and mercy, a few particles of dust could intercept,-shall ever be present with them, in the fierceness of his
anger. On earth, they could say, "T lere is no God." Now,
in the torments of hell, they learn, and feel, and confess there
is a God. I-Iow, then, must appear the folly of having lived
as if there were no God! How, when they shall comprehend
the whole measure and depth of this calamitV, in feeling the
unabated wrath of an unchangeable God!
To conclude, my dear hearers, how many, as you reflect on




PRACTICAL ATHIEIS M.               169
this discourse, are constrained to confess, that you have lived,
to this hour, without God? True, it may be-I trust it isthat there are none who openly deny the divine existence.
True, it may be, that your speculative belief in God has imposed solme restraints upon your depravity. But, is it not
equally true, that, as it respects every right feeling toward
God —as it respects that general course of conduct, which decides character, that you have lived to this hour, substantially
as you would have done, had you known that there were no
God? Is it not true, and must you not confess, that you are
as clear from this influence: as far from beillg what a true
practical belief, in the being of a God, would have made you,
as if you had no suspicion of his existence?  Ah, my hearers,
your unfounded hopes of his mercy-your ingratitude and
discontent under the dispensations of his providence-your
love of the world-your aversion to his worship-your contempt of his authority, and rejection of his Son —answer
these questions. They must answer them, to your own conviction.
And, unless it be true, either that there is no God-or no
glory in being assimilated to his excellence —no happiness in
friendship with the Almighty —no eternal rewards for his devoted servants-no danger in meeting a God, whose being and
character you have practically disowned, what madness marks
your course! You live only for the pleasures of a worldly
life. The thought of God would have disturbed your peace,
and poisoned your pleasures; and, therefore, you have excluded it. You knew, indeed, that you were in the hands of
him, from whose power there is no escape; but you have
sought no acquaintance with his nature, and inquired not
what conduct should be observed toward him, or what expectations be entertained from him.  Surely, you would have
been alarmed, to have been placed thus, in the power of a
mysterious stranger of your own species. But let that stranger
be the almighty God, and you cared no more. For such a
being, you have had neither fear nor love. With him, you
Vol. I. —8




10O             PRACTICAL ATHEISM.
have desired no intercourse —with him, you have had no concern. As it respects your feelings, your conduct, and your
character, there has been no God in heaven, earth, or hell.
But, if there nay be a.God-if there is a God-what are
you now?. What are your expectations from that world, where
you must shortly meet him? Oh, my dear hearers, is it nothing to you, that you voluntarily renounce your own interests,
for time and eternity? Nothing, that you degrade yourselves
to the lowest point of meanness and guilt in the sight of all
holy beings? Is it nothing to you, that you may rise and dwell
forever with angels and the redeemed, in the blissful presence
of God and the Lamb? Is it nothing, that under all the trials
and afflictions of this life, you have no refuge, no supportthat in death, you have no relief from the anticipated horrors
of hell-that you have no certain respite, no, not for a moment, from the full experience of its woes-that you stand
on that fearful brink, where the slightest agitation will plunge
you beyond the reach of mercy-that eternity is ready to
open upon you, and the God of eternity to become the avenger
of your contempt of himself and of his Son?




XIII.
SINNERS HATE TIIE LIGHT.
JohN iii. 20.
"For every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest
his deeds should be reproved."
WERE men willing to see, the works of God would afford a
clear manifestation of his character. "C For the invisible things
of him from the creation of the world are clearly seen, being
understood by the things that are made, even his eternal
power and Godhead." Doubtless our first parents, before the
apostasy, beheld a present God in every thing around them;
nor could they open their eyes on the displays of his eternal
power and Godhead without being constrained to love and
adore. The very heathen are pronounced by the apostle to
be " without excuse; because that, when they knew God, they
glorified him not as God." The same light still shines through
the whole system of nature as at the beginning. " The heavens declare the glory of God, and the firmament showeth his
handy work."
Notwithstanding all this light, there was no just and profitable knowledge of God; the world was still enveloped in
moral darkness.  " The world by wisdom knew not God."
Hence, for the instruction of an ignorant and degraded race,
the goodness of God hath bestowed a special revelation on the
world.
As the author of this revelation, Jesus Christ saith of himself, " I am the light of the world;" and again, " I am come a
light into the world." The term light is often applied to the




172          SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT.
source of light. Thus God is said to have " made two great
lights; the greater light to rule the day, and the lesser light
to rule the night."  In this sense Jesus Christ is said to be the
light of the world; the sun, that greater light, whence proceeds all that light which surrounds us.
By the light referred to in the text, we are to understand the
instruction imparted to us by the Lord Jesus Christ through
his gospel-all that truth which by this revelation is made
known to man. This revelation unfolds to us the glory of
God, the beauty of holiness, the evil of sin, and the reality and
weight of eternal and invisible things. This is the light which
reveals the secrets of the heart, and discovers man to himself
as a guilty, condemned, lost sinner. It is this that makes
known the method in which rebels may be reconciled to their
offended sovereign, and which exhibits an all-sufficient Saviour
to perishing sinners. This is that day-spring from on high
which hath visited us-that light from heaven which beams
on our every path; and if any of us are ignorant of the discoveries which it makes to us, it is because we love darkness
rather than light.
" Every one that doetfh evil l.ateth the light, neither comreth to
the light."  By coming to the light, we are to understand that
steady, fixed attention to the truths of the gospel, which shall
give theni their proper influence on the mind. So long as
there is not that clear and correct and fixed apprehension of
the truths of the gospel which is necessary to give effect to
those truths-so long as the mind either disbelieves or doubts
them-so long as the mind is fixed exclusively on other objects
-so long as they are perverted, or in any degree misapprehended-in a word, so long as a combined whole, the direct
bearing of the truths of God upon himself is not seen —so long
as man refuses thus to look at them with solemn and fixed
attention, so long he refuses to come to the light.
It may be true, that by instruction and study, men may have
aw. extensive acquaintance with the Scriptures, and on all speculative points of doctrine they may be thoroughly orthodox;




SINNERS HATE TIHE LIGHT.                 173
they may even feel, in some degrlee, the power of divine truth
on the conscience, and, at times, find it difficult to resist its
fullest energy, and yet not come to the light in the sense of
the text. Notwithstanding the full conviction of the understanding, they are not willing so to look at the truths which
they believe -s to give them a chance to operate upon the
mind and conscience, in their full and unresisted power. They
are not willing to come and stand naked, unshielded and unprotected, before those truths of God, which show them their
real character and condition as sinners against him. Some are
willing to go further than others. When the sinner is awakened in some degree to a sense of his danger, he is willing to
look at some truths; but when the light, as he opens the
avenues of the. mind to its approach, begins to penetrate the
dark recesses of sin, when it beams in upon all his refuges of
lies, and shows him how vain they are, when the whole truth
begins to tell on his conscience, and li he sees that it will break
down all his self-dependence, and scatter all his hopes to the
winds, then he resists, then he strives to shut out the hated
light; then he refuses to know the worst of his case; then he
cannot bear to look at himself, at his character and condition,
as seen in the light of eternal truth.
The reason is assigned in the text, "lest his deeds should be
reproved"-i. e. lest they be convinced of their guilt-lest, by
seeing their condition as sinners, they should feel it. Whatever ligh conceits they may have of themselves —whatever
hopes they may indulge of the favor of God-whatever schemes
they may form of future repentance to quiet them in sin, they
ever have a secret suspicion that the light would make some
terrible discoveries. They dare not, therefore, trust themselves
in the light, lest this secret suspicion should rise into an overwhelming conviction. It is so palpably evident that they are
transgressors of the law of God, and are under its righteous
condemnation-that they are unholy and unlit for heaven;
their conscience gives such decisive testimony to these facts,
that they dare not come to a fair and open trial by the light of




174         SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT.
God's truth, lest sentence should go against them. They may
be willing to hear some truth; but to look at the whole truth
— to admit that humbling, alarming exhibition which would
lay open all their guilt and all their danger —would be more
than they could withstand. HIence they shut their eyes upon
the light that would flash the painful conviction upon them.
How can they bear to open their eyes and see nothing but the
fearful curse of almighty God upon them  " They hate the
light, neither come to the light, lest their deeds should be reproved."
Having thus explained the truth in the text, I shall attempt
to make it manifest to your consciences. We cannot, indeed,
make the assertion in the text stronger than God has made
it; but we may lead you, my hearers, to view more closely
and distinctly the state of your own minds than you have
ever done, and to find that there is an exact agreement between what God says of it and what you yourselves find it
to be.
For this purpose, I remarkI. That the truths of God, which respect the sinner, are, so
far as the nature and circumstances of them are concerned, as
easily seen and felt as any other. It is as easy to believe that
there is a God, as to believe in the existence of a fellow-creature. The body is not the man, but the soul. And there is
not a thousandth part of the evidence, that there is a spirit-a
thinking, voluntary, active spirit-which animates the body of
a fellow-creature, which there is, that there is an Almighty
intelligent spirit which pervades, and sustains, and moves the
universe around you. The evidence in the one case is as mulch
greater than it is in the other, as the acts of God, which fall
under your inspection, are mnore numerous than those of an
individual fellow-man. Do the acts of the speaker evince, to
your full apprehension, hits being? And did you never hear
God in the thunder, or see him in the lightning? Were you
now to feel the tremblings of an earthquake, were the earth
now reeling to and fro like a drunken man, were these walls,




SINNERS HATE THE LIGHIT.              175
these pillars shaking — would you not realize that there is a
God? Oh, how you would cry for his mercy!
Again: why do you expect injury from a fellow-nman, who
is your avowed and determined enemy, and threatens to injure
you? Is it because he avows his purpose to injure, and because he has by direct action injured others in the same circumstances. But have you any such evidence in this case, as
you have that God is angry with the wicked-that he will pour
out his wrath upon his impenitent enemies? HI-ave you not
the acknowledged declarations of the immutable God?  Declarations, too, confirmed by the very acts of God, not only in
every age, but every day? Can the declarations and acts of a
weak, changeable worm of the dust furnish stronger proof of
what he will do, than the declarations and acts of the infallible, almighty, and unchangeable God furnish of what he will
do? But let a fellow-man prove to you that he is determined
to take your life, would you not think of it, would you not
feel it, would not this come home to your mind, and fix your
thoughts?  Why, then, is the sentence of death and present
condemnation pronounced by the infinite God unthought of
and unfelt? Why does not truth, like this, arrest and chain
your thoughts? Why do you not come to the light? Because
you hate the light; because this truth would alarm your fears,
dampen your pleasures, and check your pursuits; because it
would at once overturn and demolish all your towering hopes
of earthly bliss, and set the terrors of guilt, and of God, in
array against you. To this it is too painful to submit. I appeal to your own conscience-is it not even so?
I remarkl
II. The mind cannot turn away fiom divine truth without
choosing to do it. The mind is voluntary in fixing its thoughts,
and fixes the thoughts on what objects it pleases. It is true,
indeed, that thoughts occur to the mind without choice, but
the mind does not fix and dwell on objects of thought, or turn
away from them without choosing to do so. For example,
you set before the mind of the drunkard the fatal and inevit



176         SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT.
able consequences of hIis habits, to himself and to his family.
Ite sees and knows that what you say is truth; but it is utterly
ineffectual to divert him from this way to hell. Why? Because he does not keep his thoughts steadily fixed on the ruin
that awaits him. And why does he not? Because he does
not choose to do it. So, precisely, does " every one who doeth
evil, refuse to come to the light."  When the truths of God,
which respect him as a sinner, are presented, he turns away
from them. IIe nay reason about them, understand them intellectually, admit them into his creed; but he does not look
at them in their direct and awful bearing upon himself. And
why?-why, when truths so momentous, truths so certain,
truths as easily made the object of fixed meditation as any
other —why are they not looked at with fixed attention? Why
are the thoughts turned away to the trifles of sight and sense?
Yea, how can lie turn away his thoughts friom things like these
unless he chooses to do it? Is there any thing in the light
which beams on the senses from the objects of sense, which
nmzUst, of necessity, absolutely overpower and extinguish the
light which shines upon him from heaven? Here-to bring
the question to the tribunal of your own conscience-here, we
present to your mind, the living God angry with the wicked,
denouncing death eternal against you-we show you yourself
under condemnation-we offer a Saviour able to save to the
uttermost; and now can you turn your thoughts from these
things, without choosing to do it? Will not your thoughts
actually fix and fasten upon these things, unless you choose to
fix them on something else? Why do you turn away from these
truths of God-why refuse to come to the light? Because you
know your deeds will be reproved; because you know that if
you look at them steadily, you will be under conviction.
III. The artifices often resorted to, to hide the truth-to turn
its force and resist its pressure-evince the same thing. Here
is an extended list; probably there is not an individual present who has not resorted to some one or more of them. Let
us examine some of them.




SINNERS HATE THIE LIGHT.               177
One is infidelity. Now, in respect to the infidel, there are
two points to be decided. Is his conviction real? and if so,
is it the result of patient and candid inquiry? Whether there
was ever an enlightened and yet an honest infidel, is easily
decided. The confessions, and groans, and agonies of Voltaire,
and HIume, and Paine-their cries for the mercy of that Saviour
whom they denied-on the bed of death, settle this question,
and tell us why they denied the Son of God. If there then be
any such creature as a real infidel, it is because he has not examined the truth. And why has he not? Why has he refused
to search and see whether these things are so? The only
answer is, he hates the light; and therefore, with the laugh,
and sneers, and railleries, and sophisms, which malicious ingenuity can invent, he refuses to give a fair hearing to a message front his God.
Another artifice is found in the excuses offered for disobedience to the commands of God, and neglecting the concerns of
the soul. It is not our purpose to enumerate these excuses.
It is enough to ask, is it actually so? Is there a single real
substantial excuse for disobeying the known commands of the
living God for a moment? Is there really a good reason for
leaving the interests of eternity unprovided for, another hour?
Why, then, are these excuses made? Why, except to resist
the obligations you are under to the living God, and the light
of that truth which shows you your present dying necessity of
a Saviour? The reason is plain; sinners wrap themselves up
in the darkness and fogs of excuses and apologies, lest the
lighlt of conviction should flash its painful glare upon the
guilty soul.
Another expedient is the indulgence of false hopes and false
expectations.  IIow common, how universal, is the hope of
sinners that they shall repent hereafter at a more convenient season! How common is the hope and expectation that
they shall do something to secure the converting grace of God!
How common, even for awakened sinners, to flatter themselves
that they shall do something to make themselves better and
8*




178          SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT.
more fit to come to Christ! Now, whence the indulgence of
hopes like these? Are they authorized by the word of God,
or by facts?  Can any reason be assigned why they should be
held with such an almost relentless grasp-and that, in face of
the multiplied warnings of God-except to shut out the light
of God's truth? Is not this the precise and only reason that,
stripped of these hopes, a sense of guilt and danger would
rush in upon the soul, and spoil all present quiet in sin?
Another method of l-lilding the truth and averting its force
is, to reproach religion and its ministers. How often have we
heard the very religion which the Son of God came fiom
heaven to teach, reviled and condemned as enthusiasm and
fanaticism, and even as the work of the devil! Especially,
during a season of religious revival, how clamorous are many
in heaping obloquy and reproaches upon that religion and its
ministers! And when they dare stigmatize a revival by no
harsher epithets, then it is only the fear and alarm occasioned
by terrific preaching-at most mere sympathy. Now, why is
all this-why all this zeal against, to say the least, harmless
men and harmless things?  " If this work be of men, it will
come to naught."  WVhy, then, not let it alone?  Ah, my
hearers, the truths of God have, at such seasons, peculiar
power; they are seen in visible operation. The citadel of sin
is stormed, and not by weapons carnal, but mighty through
God. An ungodly world does homage to their power by
summoning every recruit to resist, which impiety and profanity, and often blasphemy itself, can furnish. It would not
be difficult to enlarge this enumeration. IHow common the
expedient of diverting the mind by attention to worldly things!
One will immerse himself in business, another mingle in gay
company and unite in trivial and mirthful conversation, another break away from retirement and from religious society,
and resort to scenes of folly, of pleasure and dissipation-and
all this to scatter the gloom of conviction, and to silence the
clamors of an angry conscience. "Every one that doeth evil
hateth the light, neither cometh to the light, lest his deeds




SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT.              179
should be reproved." And I make the appeal to every individual in this house have you not adopted some one of the
expedients now specified, to avoid the conviction of your guilt
and danger as the truth of God has unfolded them?
IV. I will only appeal to two other sources of proof: the
influence of religious conversation, and that of the faithful
preaching of the gospel.
Zealous, communicative and faithful Christians carry lightthe light of divine truth-with them wherever they go. When
they talk of what is nearest to their hearts-their religion,
their Saviour and their God-when they expostulate faithfully
with sinners, and when what they say is enforced by a blameless example, they give a weight to the sentence of God's
condemnation which few things, short of the solemnities of the
final day, can give. Now, let the inquiry be put to any impenitent sinner who has had intercourse with persons of this
character who have dealt faithfully with him, if he has not
found it trying and painful-if lie has not endeavored to avoid
their company and their conversation-if he does not prefer
that company where the things of religion are not introduced?
Has not the hour when you have been obliged to listen to
faithful expostulation, been irksome and tedious? Are there
not many of you who would tremble at the thought of such
an interview with that faithful servant of God who has been
among us? And why is it so? Would he tell you any thing
which God has not told you? No; he would only bring the
truths of God so near that you are afraid you would feel them.
"' Every one that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh
to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved."
And now let me ask you, how you have felt under the faithful, pungent preaching of the gospel? I know, indeed, there
may be much of the gospel which you are willing to heareven many of its more prominent and distinguishing doctrines;
but when the preacher has torn away, root and branch, all
your self-righteousness-when he has exhibited, in their combined energy, those truths of the gospel which showed you on




180         SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT.
the one hand that you. were guilty, and which on the other cast
you wholly upon the sovereign grace of God, and there left you,
and made you feel that;' thou art the man,"-have you not felt
uneasy, and hardly known how to find rest in your present
condition?  I-Iave you not hated him, and hated his doctrine?
I ask you again, have you not often refused to fix in your
thoughts the truths which you have heard, lest you should
come to a realizing discovery of your condition? Have you
not often suppressed both truth and evidence at the bar of
conscience, when they were against you? When the glass of
divine truth has been held up before you and shown you to
yourself, have you not gone away determined to forget what
manner of men ye were? Do you not know, in your own
hearts, that the hopes you now entertain of fiuture happiness
have not the least foundation; that they are the result of that
blind infatuation which tempts you to believe that things are
as you would have them to be-the result, not of evidence, not
of examination, not founded in the truth, but in direct disregard and contempt of every truth of God, and, to speak
plain, mere refuge of lies, where the light of eternal truth is
wholly excluded, and where nothing but the darkness you
love reigns? My dear hearers, you may think me too plain,
too direct and too personal; but I judge no man. I disregard
every judgment but that of God and your own conscience. In
his presence and at that tribunal, I lodge the appeal. The
decisions of the judgment-day will be personal; and if your
own hearts condemn you, God is greater than your hearts, and
knoweth all things.
REMARK S.
1. Our subject will enable us to see how unfounded and imnpious is a very common complaint of sinners.
There are many such who admit the importance of religion,
who flatter themselves, too, that they are willing to attend to
the subject; but they complain that they do not and cannot




SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT.                181
feel it. Here they rest, waiting for the Spirit of God to make
them feel it. My dear hearers, this is delusion-fatal delusion. You admit, but you do not feel, the importance of providing for the salvation of your soul! Why do you not? Is
it because there is nothing in God-nothing in Christ —nothing
in your character as a lost sinner, doomed to endless death,
which is sufficient to make you feel? No. It is because you
hate the light-it is because you come not to the light-lest
you should feel. You know that, if you were to look at yourself; even for one hour, in the light of God's truth, you would
feel. You know that, if you were to let the truths of God,
which show you your guilt, your helplessness, as one exposed
-and justly exposed-to an immediate and an eternal damnation, you would feel. Mlake the experiment. Try it. Go
alone with God. And now, will you charge your stupidity
and hardness of heart upon the Spirit of God? Let conscience
speak, and give it a fair hearing, and that moment you will
be an awakened sinner. But so long as you do it not, you
never will feel.
The Spirit of God is the spirit of truth. I-Ie operates on the
conscience and the heart through the truth, and in no other
way. And, my dear hearers, if you do not come to the light
of God's truth-if you do not turn and fix your attention on
the horrors of your state as a rebel against God, you never
will feel till the fires of hell shall make you feel.
2. Sinners who are only partially awakened, are doing
nothing to any purpose in the matter of their conversion.
Every such sinner, though he sees some truth, and feels
it too, still sees but little as he must see it. He does not
come out into the full light of God's word.  He cherishes
false hopes and false expectations, which break the force of
truth on the conscience; he refuses to see the worst of his case.
He must see this. Unless he sees and feels the justice of
his condemnation-unless he has just views of himself, as his
character and condition are disclosed in the Bible-unless he
comes to the light-he never will be converted.  Now, if




182          SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT.
there are any of you, my hearers, who are in some slight degree convinced of sin, partly awakened, occasionally taking
some transient glimpse of yourself as a lost man, we say to
you, you are doing nothing to any purpose in this great concern. You may go on in this way, and only increase your
guilt, and perish at last under an aggravated doom. We say
to you, therefore, " Come to the light; come into that light
which shall show you to yourself as you are; come where you
can see yourself as God sees you." Look, and ponder that idol
of your heart, on which God has kindled the fires of his indignation, that the affections of your heart may recoil from it.
Look solemnly down the precipice where you stand, into that
abyss of woe into which the slighest agitation may plunge
you-look within on thy heart of cold alienation from God,
and proud contempt of thy Saviour; and still look, and still
ponder thyself-thy condition as a ruined, self-ruined sinner,
till you can feel-I do not say how much-but enough to lead
you to fall a penitent at the feet of mercy, of abused and injured mercy. Think of thyself, ponder thy condition as a sinner, till, with cheerful, affectionate, fearless trust, thou canst
commit thy soul to that almighty Saviour, and of choice, with
unqualified preference, and unfaltering purpose, yield thyself
to his service.
3. Ministers must not be afraid of alarming and distressing
sinners.
Sinners are not ordinarily converted till they see and feel that
there is great danger that they never will be converted. Sinners, if converted, are converted through the truth; and one
truth respecting them is, that there is very little hope in himself, for the sinner, that he ever shall be converted; and it is
a truth which is ordinarily not felt. WVhen the sinner first
begins to attend to the concerns of his soul, he flatters himself
that it is an easy work. But during the progress of awakening and conviction, he finds one prop of self-righteousness and
self-dependence giving way, after another; he sees that his
prayers, and his seeking, and his tears all pass for nothing; he




SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT.                183
resorts to meetings, to Christians, and to ministers, and though
he hears many instructions that are necessary, yet it all avails
nothing toward subduing his hard and reckless heart. Thus
he sees himself naked and defenseless-unprotected from the
coming wrath; and that his guilt deserves perdition, and that
the law and attributes of God all threaten its speedy approach.
lHere, he well nigh gives up all hope, and feels that he can wait,
can defer his reconciliation to God, no longer. And now, for the
first time, he has come to the light. Now the fire and hammer of eternal truth are applied; and now, if ever, the heart
of rock breaks. Let not the minister of Christ be afraid of
bringing home the whole truth to the conscience of the sinner.
Christ, the prophets, and the apostles, by their preaching,
stung sinners to the quick; they pricked them in their hearts,
until they exclaimed, "Men and brethren, what shall we do?"
They opened to their view a hastening destruction, roused
them from their slumbers, and forced them  to feel that they
merited eternal death, and were momently exposed to it. And
if ministers would preach the truth, they must thunder an
alarm in the ears of sleeping guilt, and rouse the stupid to a
sense of a judgment and a damnation that lingereth not. And,
my dear hearers, you will not reproach us for laboring to demnolish your delusive confidence and hopes, when sudden destruction shall once come upon you. You will not wonder
that we labor so much to draw you from your refuges of lies.
3No; you will wonder that you did not believe us. You will
reproach yourself in anguish, that you did not believe that
this Sabbath was the day, and perhaps the only day, of salvation; and that you did not resolve to give up all hope from
to-morrow, and secure an interest in Christ before that suil
shall set.
4. There is fearful reason to believe that many in this congregation will never be even truly convicted.
What is conviction? It is a deep sense of guilt, without
palliation and without excuse, and of danger so great and so
threatening that the soul cannot rest while out of Christ. And




184          SINNERS HATE THE LIGHT.
now, my hearers, how many of you are utter strangers to
such conviction?  And what hope is there, that you will
not continue thus?  What means of conviction, that ever
did or ever will produce the effect, have not been used
with you in all their power? God has given you his gospel, has unvailed his glories, has come to you in the full
promulgation of his law, with all its requirements and sanctions. I-Ie has made known to you the Saviour in the fullness of his love and compassion, and his all-sufficiency to
save. lie has opened, in bright display, the rewards of his
favor in the purity, and bliss, and joys of the world above.
He has told you of the darkness and despair, and the wailing
and the woes of the pit. All the moral influence which the
universe affobrds by mercy, by terror, by entreaty, by love, by
the richest gift of benevolence, he has concentrated to a point,
and poured it burning and blazing on your heart. And where
are you? You have felt it —you could not help that. But,
instead of yielding to it, and welcoming it into your heart and
conscience, you have resisted it to the utmost. You are still
resisting it. If slightly moved, still you maintain the firm
posture of resistance, carrying still in your own bosomI the
sentence of condemnation. And now, if all this has been in
vain-yea, if, in addition to all this, you have once and again
passed through a revival of religion, and are even now living,
and have for months lived, amid the displays of the power and
glory of a present God-if he has here, before your eyes, been
walking in these streets, and on every side of you multiplying
the trophies of his love-if the dead, on your right hand and
on your left, have heard the voice of God and lived, and you
are yet unmoved, yet unconcerned in your rebellion against
that God whose glories you behold-why, fellow-sinner, how
can you ever expect to be awakened?
And now, my dear hearers, have you not long enough hated
and resisted, and shut out the light of truth? Remember,
you cannot always do thus. Soon will these days of hope be
passed and gone forever. Soon will that light, which now




SI]NNERS HATE THE LIGHT.               185
shines to reveal a God of mercy, and to allure you to his
friendship and love-that light, which discloses to the eye of
guilt and crime, a Saviour entreating reconciliation, and proffering everlasting life-that light, which beams upon you from
the eternal throne, softened and tempered by the cheering rays
of love, to draw you to the bosom of God; soon, ah soon,
will this light of everlasting truth, show you to yourself, to
the Judge, and the Judge to you, when there will be none to
pity-none to save. Oh, if this light of these days of mercy
be insupportable to thy guilty soul-how will you bear the
light of that day which shall show you an incensed God, and
thyself under the just desert, and the hopeless doom of his
wrath?  If you are not willing to see and feel enough of your
guilt and ruin as a sinner, to relent with contrition, and accept
of mercy from thy offended God-oh, how can you endure the
light that shall reveal a God that will never forgive-that
shall reveal heaven as thy lost inheritance, and hell as thy final
doom? HIow can you bear the light of that day, when the
sentence of thy God shall echo, in responsive thunder, the
solemn "Amen.  IT IS FINISHED;";"Just and true are thy
ways, thou King of saints;" "' Even so, Lord God Almighty,
true and righteous are thy judgments?"




XIV.
ON HEAVEN.
REV. Vii. 9-17.
ADMITTED for the consolation of the Chnrch on earth to behold and to record, as an eye-witness, the happiness of the
saints in heaven, the Apostle John gives us perhaps the fullest
and liveliest descriptions of that blessed world, which God has
revealed.
From  the manner in which the inspired writers describe the
happiness of the saved, it would seem impossible, that in this
world, we could bear a full communication of its nature.
What John  saw, laid him  as dead at the feet of him  who
walketh amidst the golden candlesticks. Accordingly the descriptions of that world are highly figurative; and though not
fully unfolding the happiness there enjoyed, serve to raise in
us the most exalted conceptions of its nature and degree.  At
the same time, so much is said, either in terms exactly literal,
or by comparisons and contrasts so nearly approaching literal
description, as adequately to answer the purposes of making
known to us such a world.  The latter mode of description
chiefly prevails in our text.
"After this I beheld, and lo, a great multitude, which no man could number, of
all nations, and kindred, and people, and tongues, stood before the throne, and before the Lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands; and cried with
a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto
the Lamb. And all the angels stood round about the throne, and about the elders
and the four beasts, and fell before the throne on their faces, and worshiped God,
saying, Amen: Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanksgiving, and honor and




ON  HEAVEN.                           187
power, and might, be unto our God for ever and ever. Amen. And one of the
elders answered, saying unto me, What are these which are arrayed in white robes?
and whence came they? And I said unto him, Sir, thou knowest. And he said
unto me, These are they which came out of great tribulation, and have washed
their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb. Therefore are they
before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple: and he that
sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them. They shall hunger no more, neither
thirst any more: neither shall the sun light on them, nor any heat. For the Lamb
which is in the midst of the throne shall feed them, and shall lead them unto living
fountains of waters. And God shall wipe away all tears from their eyes."
What a different scene, what a different world, separated
only by a slight vail, from  that which we inhabit, is here presented to our view-a world into which any child of God may
enter by a single step, and in a moment of time!
The description of the apostle leads us to considerI. The number of its inhabitants.  "I beheld, and lo, a
great multitude which no man could number."
If we reflect on the power of God, we see that it is as easy
to create a million, even a million of millions, of the brightest
spirits, as to create one. He has but to speak and it is done. If
we survey the magnificence and profusion of his works which
fall under our observation, we behold every part of the visible
universe filled with beings, from  the immeasurable system  of
worlds to the minutest atom.  If we consider the end of God's
creation, his own glory, and remember that heaven is the perfection of his works, the grand scene of his glory, the place of
his immediate residence, we shall at once feel that the multitudes who are to dwell there must be innumerable. There,
God is to reveal himself-there,  he is to be known, and adored,
and glorified. And shall that world be thinly inhabited?
Shall those realms, which God has thus made for himself, be
but as empty space a? shall heaven be a blank, a desert? True
it is, our Lord has declared that "Narrow is the way that
leadeth unto life andfew there be that find it."  But he speaks
comparatively, and of those periods in which the success of
the gospel is small. The number of those who have been, and
who will be saved, compared with the multitude who have




188                  ON HEAVEN.
been, and who will, perhaps for centuries to come, be lost, is
indeed overwhelming. Still from this world there shall be a
bright host of witnesses to tile glory of its Redeemer. The
world will stand long enough for this purpose. He made this
world the scene of his humiliation, and it will yet be the scene
of his triumph. Let the gospel extend; let the Holy Ghost
accompany it, as prophets foretell, and redeemed sinners shall
one day fill and crowd the realms of everlasting light and
glory. Nor is this an unimportant circumstance in the happiness of the world of bliss. In this world, to augment members, often tends to multiply evils. But in heaven, where there,
will be no conflicting interests-where the wants of one will
not be supplied at the expense of another-where every bosom
glows with the pure flame of divine love-the social feelings
will operate unclogged and unalloyed.  There, every heart
will beat high with desire to promnote the general happiness,
and the multiplication of objects will only extend, and warm,
and quicken the mutual affection, and cause each to feel what
is felt by every other, and heighten the universal joy of the
innumerable throng.
II. The multitude of the redeemed is represented as made
up " of all nations, and kindreds, and peoples, and tongues."
In this world, men are the subjects of countless local and
circumstantial prejudices and even antipathies.  National
and family distinctions and interests, are a perpetual source of
jealousy, rivalry, and hatred. Difference of education, manners, customs, and even of complexion, separate one from another at a wide remove; and diversity of religious sentiment
on points of no greater moment than forms and ceremonies,
alienate from one another the very members of the family of
God. In heaven all these petty distinctions, and a thousand
similar causes of alienation, contempt, and enmity, among
men, will be completely annihilated. One affection will move
every heart, one object command all the activity in that world.
There will be no distinctions but those which, like the beautiful variety in the works of God, will add to the beauty of the




ON HEAVEN.                     189
whole. One star will differ from another star in glory, only
to augment the splendor.
In this world religion-oh, shame on man!-religion, sacred
name, is prostituted to sanction discord, to justify hatred, and
to consecrate bigotry.  But it is a perversion.  Religion
acknowledges nothing as her work but union and peace. In
heaven no odious denominations shall parcel out the redeemed
of the Lord; no frivolous distinctions break the unity of the
members of Christ; but people of every nation and kindred,
and tribe, and tongue, with one heart, shall bow and worship
before the throne of the Eternal. There, the song of the redeemed company shall be one.  The righteous Abel-the
earliest victim of mortality -shall join in the same notes of
praise with the last child of Adam that shall fall asleep in
Jesus.  All having washed their robes white in the same
blood, shall sing together, without a feeling or a note of discord, " Salvation to our God and the Lamnb."
III. The apostle describes the society in that world as composed of " angels" and " saints"-those who have never sinned,
and those who were redeemed, and "' have washed their robes
and made them white in the blood of the Lamb."
The former were created and have continued in the highest
rank of bright and. glorious spirits. The latter were once
"dead in trespasses and sins;" "walked according to the
course of this world, according to the prince of the power of
the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience;" but they have been quickened together withl Christ,
and raised up together with him, and made to sit with angels
and the Lord of angels, " in heavenly places."  Angels scornl
not their society; they welcome them as partakers of their
joy, and delight in their happiness. The interest which they
take in man they have already manifested. When man was
created, "these morning stars sang together; these sons of
God shouted for joy."  When he was redeemed, their bright
hosts flew to earth, and sang, "Glory to God in the highest."
When a sinner repents, there is joy in the presence of the




190                  ON HEAVEN.
angels; and in the midst of all the sorrows and trials and
temptations here below, they are ministering spirits to the
heirs of salvation. They conveyed the departed Lazarus to
Abraham's bosom. With warmth of affection will these holy
beings welcome us to their blissful society above. With what
transport will they lead us up to the throne of God and the
Lamb, and point us to the surrounding glories of our eternal
abode; with what joy will they relate, and we hear, the
account of their embassies of love to us, while we were
here training for heaven!  And while we celebrate the
grace that brought us through, and dwell on the wonders
of redeeming love, though they sing not our song, yet
with a voice as the sound of many waters and the voice
of mighty thunder'ings, they will strike the chorus to our
praises.
There too we shall unite with all good men. The Scriptures
clearly imply that we shall know all these saints in the kingdom of glory. Unspeakably delightful is this anticipation!
There we shall meet those with whom we have prayed and
suffered and taken sweet counsel together, while we have gone
in company to the house of God here below. We shall be reunited to the pious husband, wife, parent, child and friend,
who have gone to the enjoyment of the Saviour, leaving us
desolate and afflicted. There, as ministers, we shall meet the
seals of our ministry and the crowns of our rejoicing, in those
converted by orl' instrumentality, and there, too, hail those
who, under God, brought us back from sin and ruin, and gave
us this blessedness. There we shall see those whomn the narrow span of life permits us not to see on earth; patriarchs and
lprophets, apostles and martyrs —those pious Baxters and Newtons and Edwardses, who have instructed us by their writings,
and animated us by their example. We shall see Patlz  on his
throne; and, thoughll we shall not hear him preach, we shall
hear him, who once breathed out threatenings and slaughter,
shlout the praises of redeeming grace. All those who are separated fiom us by distance, those of whose devotion to the




ON HEAVEN.                     191
cause of Christ we hear, and who, as laborers together with
God, are carrying on to their fulfillment his purposes of mercy
in this guilty world-these, if like them we are faithful unto
death, we shall meet as our fiiends and companions in heaven,
-all united in love to that God, in gratitude to that Saviour,
whose throne they encircle —all united to each other in spotless purity in the most tender benignity and active love.
What has this selfish world to compare with intercourse like
this, where every mind thus shines with light, and every heart
thus glows with love 
IV. The apostle describes the employment of the innumerable multitude, as praise " to God and the Lamb."
In other parts of the inspired volume, where the employments
of heaven are also described, worship and praise are described
as the chief occupation. We are not, however, to infer that
this is the exclusive employment of its inhabitants. Angels, we
know, are frequently engaged in active commissions of executing the will of God in doing good to others. Analogy would
teach us that the saints also have similar employment; and
our text, that "they serve God day and night."  But of the
precise nature of the occupations of the spirits of just mnen
made perfect, we are ignorant; nor could we, probably, conlprehend them. It is no unreasonable conjecture, that the field
of active beneficence will be hereafter enlarged in proportion
as its spirit and powers are magnified. This is in kind the
highest happiness; and that God will perpetuate that kingdom
of instrumentality, by which he will forever bless the holy
universe in the communication of good, we cannot doubt.
How this good is to be done, who are to be its subjects, we
cannot know, till we shall know more of that system of worlds
and beings whllich his Almighty hand has profusely scattered
throughout the regions of space. To fly on angels' wings
from world to world, from system to system, on errands of
beneficence and mercy, may be no small part of their daily
and delightful employment. It is sufficient, however, for us
to rest in the assurance that they will be occupied in that




192                   ON HEAVEN.
work for which they are best qualified; that their employinents, will be assigned by their God and Redeemer, and be
such as to produce the greatest happiness, and to excite to
new and continual praise. In every description of the world
above, it is the voice of praise and thanksgiving which we
hear-the overflowing of thankfulness for a state of exquisite
enjoyment; it is the universal burst of gratitude in songs of
joy, extending from one boundary of heaven to the other, and
making all its pillars tremble.
V. The apostle next describes the happiness of the innumerable company.
In one part of the description, they are represented as those
" who came out of great tribulation;" and again, " they shall
huncger no more, neither thirst any more; neither shall the
sun light on them, nor any heat."  " God shall wipe away all
tears from their eyes."  The description is highly figurative,
but it conveys to us the clearest conception of unqualified
good, and the total absence of all evil. In this world we are
born to trouble. Fear and terror, danger and calamity, pain
and suffering, grief and misery, poverty and labor, shame and
reproach, sin and remorse, the curse and the fiown of justice
have fixed their abode. Those before the throne, came out of
great tribulation; and so shall it be of all, for it is through
much tribulation that we must enter the kingdom  of God.
Various, indeed, are the trials of the saints below. Some, like
Lot, have their righteous souls vexed with the ungodly around
them; some, like Job, are plunged from the height of prosperity to the lowest depths of adversity; some, like David, are
harassed by the most severe persecutions, both from enemies
and friends; some, like Eli, are cursed with wicked children;
some, like Lazarus, are afflicted by poverty and disease; some,
like Peter, are shut up in prison; some, like Mianasseh, feel
the keenest anguish of remorse; some, like the apostles and
martyrs, are afflicted, tormented, stoned and sawn asunder,
and all are borne down with the body of sin and death, and
distressed more or less with fears and doubts and heart-break



ON HEAVEN.                     193
ings for sin, crying, "' O wretched men that we are, who shall
deliver us!"
And, oh, how changed their state above! The last struggle
of death, is the last pang they shall feel forever. There shall
be no wicked men to vex by their unrighteous deeds —no revilers to scoff at the disciple of Jesus-no slanderer to wound
reputation —no oppressor to afflict and crush the feeble-no
distresses of poverty, hunger or thirst, cold or heat to be encountered-no faithless friend, nor ungrateful child, to grieve
and torture the tenderest sensibilities of the heart-no sick
bed of an expiring relative-no graves to weep over with
anguish-no widow or orphan as objects of unavailing sympathy-no hardened sinner to be warned, and warned in vain
-no falls of the pious, and apostasies of the self-deceived, to
be lamented-rno pincers, nor chaldrons, nor racks, nor fires to
be dreaded.  There, and above all, sil shall be no more;
there nothing that defiles shall enter. Every cause of sin will
be removed: no enticing companions to seduce, nor carnal
body to corrupt, nor deceitful heart to ensnare; no evil world
to tempt, no Satan to deceive, no cessation of divine influence
on the soul; no David will there lament with anguish his fall,
no, Peter his denial of his Lord; no Christian exclaim, 1" 0
wretched man," nor pray, " Lead us not into temptation."
But each shall stand up, in humble triumph, that he has now
reached the consummation of all his wishes, his prayers, and
his labors, in freedom from sin, and the purity of perfect holiness. All sufferings are forgotten, or remembered only to
bless God, who counted them worthy to suffer for his name.
From these hills of salvation, they shall look back on their
passage through this troubled life-and the winds and waves
having ceased-shall enjoy the everlasting calm of heaven.
Every thing is done by infinite wisdom and goodness to banish
the very elements of evil, to dispel the slightest shade of
misery.  With his own hand of mercy, their Father, GOD,
hath wiped away all tears from their eyes.
The remaining part of the description exhibits the nature
Vol. I. —9                                13




i94                  ON HEtAVEN.
and the source of their happiness. "They are clothed with
white robes and palms in their hands."  "They are before the
throne of God, and serve him day and night in his temple:
and he that sitteth on the throne shall dwell among them."
" For the Lamb who is in the midst of the throne shall feed
them, and shall lead them unto living fountains of water."
This is not the happiness of Mohammed's paradise, not the
happiness which the world can give. It is refined and holy,
such as is suited to spiritual beings who are holy. It is the
happiness founded on, or rather consisting in holiness, and a
near and intimate access to the God of holiness. Let not its
nature be judged of by those who, far from having tasted of
pleasure arising from such a source, have, on the contrary, experienced from it nothing but pain and restraint. They know
not what religion is in this world, much less what it is in
heaven. To those who do know what it is by experience,
there is no plainer truth than that religion is happiness. Religion is not merely a restraint, not merely external acts of
self-denial; it is the union of the soul with God, the conformity of the will with his will, the enjoyment of communion
with him, and the transformation of every faculty of the soul
to his image and likeness. Now, happiness arises from a frame
of mind harmonizing with the nature of those objects which
can produce it; and is great, in proportion to the capacity to
receive and the excellence of the object which imparts it.
When the soul, therefore, in its most exalted state, becomes
perfect in those natural faculties and moral qualities which
constitute in creatures the perfect image of God-when every
faculty, affection, and sensibility are put in perfect tune, and
all in unison with the infinite and uncleated source of all good,
there must be happiness, the most pure and perfect which
creatures can enjoy.  It is the happiness of God himself.
God-the ever-blessed God-the source of all happiness,
knows no other than the happiness of holiness. It is a state
in which that gives pleasure to the creature, which gives
pleasure to God-in which the soul drinks at the pure and in



ON THE AVEN.                    195
exhaustible fountain-in which the bliss of the Almighty becomes the bliss of his creatures. Thus perfect holiness and
perfect happiness are one and the same thing. It is not more
impossible that God should be unhappy, than that perfectly
holy beings, who serve God day and night, should be. The
spirits of the just, thus made perfect, will be placed where the
causes of their happiness shall operate with full effect, the
sources of their bliss pour a full and unfailing stream. They
are before the throne of God, and he that sitteth on the throne
shall dwell among them. The grossness of corporeal senses
will no longer form the medium of perception. The mind,
freed fiom the disorders and obstructions which earth and sin
now occasion, will be attracted at once by pure and spiritual
objects, and with steadfast vision contemplate the perfection
of all that is holy, vast, and excellent. All within and without will unite to facilitate the acquisition of divine knowledge,
and the exercise of devout affections. The perfections of God,
displayed on every side, in all their brightness and glory, will
demand instant and ceaseless wonder, gratitude, love, and joy.
HIere, we are illuminated by the light of the sun, or we grope
in darkness. "That city hath no need of the sun, neither
of the moon to shine in it, for the glory of God doth lighten
it, and the Lamb is the light thereof." The purpose and works
of God shall be traced from the ages of eternity, and followed
down through that dispensation of providence, grace, andglory, through the eternity opening before us. The rays of
Deity, filling every part of the eternal temple, will be softened
to the sight of every beholder; we shall " behold him face to
face, we shall see him as he is!"  Oh, with what distinctness
shall we see, with what energy shall we feel, then, that " we
live and move, and have our being in God!"  The capacity of
every holy being must be filled. There, surrounded with his
glory, their every desire will expire in the bosom of their God,
and triumphs of joy and rapture-God's own blessedness-be
the portion of the soul.
As no small ingredient in the happiness of the saved, we are




196                 ON HEAVEN.
referred to the means by which they attain this exaltation.
"They washed their robes, and made them white in the blood
of the Lamb." They are clothed in white robes, to denote
their moral purity,- and bear palms in their hands as emblems
of victory in the good fight of faith. The first point to which
our attention is directed is, that the " blood of the Lamb" was
that in which they.washed their robes, and made them white.
In the efficacy of the death of Christ they trusted, as the atonement for their sins. Their robes: were defiled and stained with
sin; yea, as scarlet, as crimson. Hell was their desert; and
they stood on its brink. But " the blood of Christ cleanseth
from all sin." Here, they rested all their hopes of glory.
Here, amidst.the fires and terrors of the last day, they expected to triumph. "ZIn the Lord have Irighteousness." And
they were washed, they were justified, they were sanctified
and glorified in the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit
of our God. It was Christ whom they trusted, and it was
Christ who delivered from the horrible pit and the imiry clay,
and set their feet on the roc7k of ages. Behold, then, the cause,
the whole cause of the wonderful change in the redeemed host
-this.grand translation from earth to heaven, from ruin to
glory! "They washed their robes, and made them white in
the blood of the Lamb." Where he is there are they also, to
behold his glory, and to be onewith him as he is one with the
Father. They shall see that glorified body which he bath
taken into union with his divinity- him who is the brightness
of the Father's glory, and whose identity with the Father is so
perfect, " that whoso hath seen the Son, hath seen the Father
also"-him, who was once a man of sorrows, afflicted, buffeted,
crowned with thorns and crucified, exalted to the glory which
he had with the Father before the world was; they shall behold those arms, once stretched on the cross for their salvation,
opened to embrace them; those hands that were nailed to the
tree, placing the crown of life on their head; and that heart
which was pierced for their offenses, glowing still with love
stronger than death. Oh, with what joy, will they behold




ON HEAVEN..                   197
their once crucified, but now reigning Saviour! What joy,
after having loved and served him here below,, to be admitted
into his immediate presence;- to receive from him the fullness
of that gift, life everlasting, to be led by him to those fountains of living waters which proceed from the throne of God;
to hear from his lips the agonies he felt, when he cried, " My
God, why hast thou forsaken me?"-of all the scenes of woe
and distress through which he passed, to pluck them from
everlasting burnings; to learn, while enjoying the bliss of
heaven, what he did by his word, his providence, his Spirit,
and his blood, to confer that bliss upon them! And, while
duration rolls away its ages, to find him the same yesterday,
to-day, and forever! Oh, Christians, do you wish for heaven,
if Jesus may not give it to you? Has it any charms without
the Lamb on the throne? But, saved by the blood, cheered
by the presence, consoled by the love, blessed with the gifts,
and enlightened with the glory of Jesus, is not such a heaven
enough?  "Worthy," cry the mingled voices of saints and
angels; " worthy is the Lamb that was slain, to receive power,
and riches, and wisdom, and strength, and honor, and glory,
and blessing."  "Worthy," again cry his redeemed, in a song
which angels may not sing, but in which, with holy ecstasy,
we will join, " worthy art thou; for thou wast slain, and hast
redeemed us to God by thy blood."
R E MARK S.
1. Our subject furnishes great support under present afflictions.
Once the redeemed host were men of like passions with ourselves. They came out of great tribulation. Once they sighed
and groaned under sorrows and sufferings as deep and grievous
as those by which any of you are afflicted.:But to what a
height of happiness and glory are they now advanced, with
what a glorious society do they now associate, in what exalted
employments are they now engaged, in what refined bliss do




198g                OQN HiEAVEN.
they now partake! They will suffer distress and death no
more. Their minds are cleansed from every taint of sin-their
breasts are the everlasting abode of peace and joy. The wisdom and goodness of God are employed to pour around them
that profusion of good, which shall bespeak the infinite power
of the Giver, and the rich treasures of his boundless benevolence. Blessed spirits! your lot is fixed, your happiness permanent and eternal! Oh, what consolation to the suffering
pilgrim on earth, to lift his contemplations to those who have
gone before him! Standing before the throne, and before the
Lamb, clothed in white robes, and holding up their palms of
victory, they say to him, " We were once as you are, assaulted
by the same temptations, and the same enemies; stricken by
the same arrows, we drank of the same cup, and felt all the
sharpness and bitterness of the Christian warfare. Often were
we ready to faint-often we cried to God in the agony of grief;
we felt all the weakness of your faith, and trembled under
all the infirmities and sins of our common nature, and were on
the very point of being swallowed up in despair. But thanks be
unto God, who always caused us to triumph in Christ Jesus!"
Faint not, therefore, in your course. Behold this cloud of witnesses! With one voice they bid you lift up the hands which
hang down, and strengthen the-feeble knees. Be strong-fear
not-for your God will come-he will come with a recompense, and save you. With angels you shall unite. One
spirit shall reign through heaven; one song employ every
tongue.  From  glory to glory shall all be changed.  You
shall be like Jesus, for you shall see him as he is, and God
shall be all, and in all, forever and ever.  One moment in
heaven, will efface forever the afflictions of earth.
a2. This subject should animate Christians in the work of
preparation for heaven.
Is there, my brethren, such a world-that glorious state- of
which so delightful a picture is presented us? I-ow different
from that which we now inhabit! Here, we see a busy world,
eager in vain pursuits, agitated by trifles, contending about




ON HEAVEN.                     199
objects of no moment, and immersed in things which perish
with the using. All is noise, confusion, vanity, sorrow, and
evil. But, behold another world, where all things are substantial, as here they are vain; where all things are momentous, as here they are trifling; where all things are durable and
eternal, as here they are changeable and transitory! Survey
its inhabitants, the innumerable multitude of the blessed, and
you see the population of this world is but a petty tribe; its
employments-compared with themn-all the concerns of this
life, are but as the dust; its pleasures, they are pure and spotless, holy and divine. There, perfect holiness and happiness
reign without measure and without end. There, God unvails
his glories-there dwells the Lamb in the midst of the throne
-there are the eternal songs. Ah, what a contrast to earth!
And is this blessed scene near us?  May we be called into it
in a moment?  With what anxious solicitude, then, should we
endeavor to realize it! How ardently should we desire, how
strenuously should we labor, to be prepared for it! Let us
draw aside the vail, and look at that eternal weight of glory.
Let us look at it by that faith which " is the substance of
things hoped for, the evidence of things not seen."  Let us
thus go and stand on the threshold of heaven, listen to its songs,
and look in on its joys and glories. Brethren, could we then
sleep? We do not imagine; we do not dream. Heaven is near
to the Christian. At the longest, a few more suns shall rise
and set, before he shall stand on Mount Zion. His salvation is
nearer than when he believed; and it is time, high time, to
awake out of sleep. If more tears, and trials, and labors, and
toils are necessary, let him cheerfully acquiesce; yea, let him
earnestly strive.  IHeaven will make him  ample amends.
Every sacrifice will be trifling, when the hand of God shall
wipe away all your tears. Oh, my brethren in Christ, my
flock whom I long to present to God meet for the inheritance
of the saints in light,'labor to enter into that rest."
3. How precious should Christ be to the Christian on earth I
How precious he is to the redeemed host in heaven! "They




200                 ON HEAVEN.
washed their robes and made them white in the blood of the
Lamb." It was Jesus who raised them from sin and hell to
thrones of glory. It is Jesus whose presence fills heaven with
transport. And what other hope have you than Christ, the
hope of glory? What other heaven do you desire than that
where Jesus is? Whose love hath raised you, Christian, from
the pit, but the love of Jesus? Whose arm will guide and
strengthen and conduct you to that bright world, but the arm
of Jesus? Whose hand put the unfading crown on your head,
but the hand of Jesus? Whose glory shall be the portion, the
unchangeable, eternal, satisfying portion of your soul, but the
glory of Jesus? Oh, how precious will Jesus be to the redeemed sinner, when this work is done, and when in heaven
he surveys its wonders! Let him, be precious now. It is the
blood of Jesus which is to wash your robes and make them
white-that blood in which the myriads of the saved shall all
be washed and presented faultless. Here, then, put all your
trust. Here, leave all your glory. Here, direct all your
praise. Here, by singing now, prepare for the songs of heaven
-" salvation to God and the Lamb."  " Unto him that loved
us, and washed us from our sins in his own blood, and hath
Inade us kings and priests unto God and his Father; to him
be glory and dominion forever and ever. Amen."
4. How unfit for heaven is an impenitent sinner!
All the employments and delights of heaven consist in worshiping, loving and serving God. Saints and angels have no
other occupation, no other joys. The sinner has not the love
of God in him. Admitted into heaven, there is no delightful
employment for him. Its delights all flow fiom the taste and
feelings of its blessed inhabitants. They love God and the
Lamb, and therefore they spontaneously unite in one eternal
song of praise. They love God and the Lamb, therefore they
drink deep of pleasure. They swell the notes of praise with
raptures which make the breasts of angels glow, but which
the tongue of angels cannot describe. And what has an
enemy of God to do with such employments and such joys?




ON HEAVEN.                    201He must stand aghast and amazed, while angels and blessed
spirits shout the praises of Jesus around the throne of God.
There is not a single note in the songs of that world which he
could sound-not a single sentiment which he could adoptnot a single ecstasy which he could enjoy. Love, and love
only, can do this; and he is an enemy! Miserable being! —a
wretch in heaven! Surrounded by millions of blessed spirits,
and not able to taste one drop of all that bliss with which
their cup overflows! A solitary, forsaken being, in the midst
of these glories! Angels fly from thee; for sin they must
abhor. Redeemed spirits fly from thee; for thou art the
enemy of Jesus. Oh, who shall be thy companions-what thy
pleasures! The presence of an omnipotent God, of purer eyes
than to behold evil, and who cannot look upon iniquity, thou
canst not bear, even on earth. Fly, then, from his throne.
Heaven overwhelms thee with unutterable agonies. IHell is
your fit, your eternal abode.




xv.
HOLINESS  ALONE  FITS FOR  HEAVEN.
1HEB. Xii. 14.
"Holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord."
WIEN a person is about to remove and fix his abode in
a distant country, he usually feels an anxiety to ascertain
whether his future situation will accord with his wishes and
secure his happiness. The solicitude in such cases is commonly so great that one seldom changes his residence without
having first not only acquired all the information he can from
books and travelers, but actually been on the spot himself and
obtained personal knowledge of the place and its advantages.
Thus we act in respect to our condition in this world. Nor
should we be esteemed as possessing a common share of prudence, in such a case, if we neglected such wise and precautionary measures, to make provision for our temporal well-being.
Not so, when we think of our removal into eternity. That
heaven is a place of great and permanent happiness, is not
denied by any who admit its reality. At that world we all
hope to arrive when death calls us away from this; and, be
its happiness what it may, we fondly expect to enjoy it. Few,
however, it is to be feared, have seriously examined the foundation of this hope. That heaven is not a place of misery but
of happiness, to all who dwell there, seems to limit the research
of multitudes; and that it is possible that they may be of the
number who shall partake of its joys, seems to justify their
confident hopes and expectations of its bliss. What heaven
is, what its happiness is, what is necessary to qualify us to




HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOrI HEAVEN.    203
enjoy it, are inquiries seldom made with that deep interest
and persevering investigation which the subject demands.
While God has clearly revealed a world of future happiness,
and urged us, by every consideration, to prepare for it, he has
no less clearly taught us what is necessary to such preparation.
In our text this important truth is fully presented: "Holiness, without which no man shall see the Lord."  Heaven is
the special residence of God, the scene of his glories, where
he unvails himself to the view of angels and redeemed spirits.
It is this full vision of God which is the source of all their
joys, and which, in the text, denotes that happiness which
springs fiom the presence of God-the visible display of all
his glories.
We have, then, this truth presented for our present meditations, thatHoliness in this world is indispensable to our happiness in
another.
I propose to considerFirst, What holiness is.
Second, To show its necessity to our future happiness.
I. Holiness may be considered as obedience to the law of
God, or as conformity to his moral character.
It is, however, quite immaterial which definition we adopt.
As "love is the fulfilling of the law," and as " God is love,"
to obey the law, is to be like God in moral character.
It is in this light that the Scriptures most frequently present to us the nature of holiness. " Be ye holy, for I am
holy." And hence Christians are said to be "partakers of
his holiness"-" partakers of the divine nature,"  " after God
created in righteousness and true holiness," -and " to be
changed into the same image fiom glory to glory."
As this image of God in man consists in the likeness of
moral character, it follows that holiness in man consists in
loving the same things which God loves-in desiring the same
things which God desires; in a word, in possessing the same




204    HOLINESS:ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN.
moral affections and dispositions, and in acting them out in
corresponding conduct. Now, God supremely loves himself.
He is the all-perfect God. All excellence, compared with the
excellence of God, is nothing. In loving himself, therefore,
he loves that which is most worthy to be loved. From  the
same disposition, he delights in every manifestation of his own
perfections-that is, in his own glory. He delights in his law,
as the transcript of his nature; he delights in his Son, as the
express image of his person; in the whole plan of salvation, as
unfolding the riches of his goodness and wisdom; in the holiness of his intelligent universe, as reflecting his own moral
character; in their happiness, as the effect of his power, his
grace, and his mercy. For the same reason he delights in all his
purposes and all his works —in his providential governmentin the God-exalting truths of his word-in the enlargement,
purity, and final perfection of his church, and the fulfillment
of all the designs of infinite love and mercy. As God thus
delights in the manifestation of himself —that is, in his own
glory, so all his acts, guided by his infinite wisdom and performed by his almighty power, are directed to this end. It is
easy, then, to see, that holiness in man-being conformity of
moral character to God —consists in loving God and delighting
in his glory.
It is only necessary to add, that while the infinite wisdom
of God regulates his mighty acts to their ultimate end, so in
his law and its particular precepts, lie has prescribed the same
end to us, and given us specific rules of action, by obedience
to which we are to promote that end. This, then, is the character which man must possess. This is what God means, when
he says, " Be ye holy, for I am holy."
II. Holiness in this world is indispensable to our happiness
in another.
1. It is so by the unalterable appointment of God.
Our text is unequivocal on this point: " Holiness, without
which no man shall see the Lord." N-o man, be he who he
may, whether high or low, rich or poor, learned or ignorant,




HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN.-   205
honorable or mean;- o mac, whatever religion, or virtue, or
profession, or creed, or works, or prayers he may boast of,
without holiness, shall be admitted into the presence of God.
Into the celestial city "there shall in nowise enter any thing
that defileth."  "Except a man be born again," except he be,
in the language of the apostle, "after God created in righteousness and true holiness,'" "he cannot see the kingdom of
God." This is the decision of him who holdeth "the keys of
death and hell"-who "openeth, and no man silutteth; and
shutteth, and no man openeth."
2. It appears from the character of God.
As a holy being, God delights in holiness, and abhors sin;
as the God of truth. and justice, he must hate all moral defilement in his creatures, and be inflexibly determined to punish
it. Actions are the surest interpreters of character. Were
God to. admit the unholy into his blissful presence, it would
be a full and decided declaration, that sin and holiness were
things without a difference; that his moral government in its
tremendous sanctions, was intended only to excite groundless
alarm in his rebellious subjects, and that the whole work of
redemption-solemn, awful and sublime as it is-the very
astonishment of heaven and earth-was without an object, at
most only a mighty farce. But will the great Eternal thus
tarnish his glory, and demolish the foundations of his throne?
Or~, must the unholy in this world be unhappy in the next?
3. The same thing appears from the fact that none of the
sources or means of happiness, which the wicked possess in
this world, will exist in heaven.
The happiness which they enjoy here, springs from the gratification of sensual, ambitious and covetous desires, and from
those natural affections which pertain to the present mode of
existence. In heaven, all these sources and means of enjoyment will utterly fail. We are expressly told that "flesh and
blood cannot inherit the kingdom of God," and that " in the
resurrection they neither marry, nor are given in marriage,
but are as the angels of God in heaven."  Most of these appe



206    HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN.
tites, passions and affections pertain to men as corporeal
beings, or arise from the relations which are peculiar to this
world. These will of course no longer exist when the spirit
leaves the body. True it may be, that the recollections of
these relations will hereafter be sources of happiness or misery;
but the relations will cease, and of course the duties and pleasures arising from them will also cease. All the happiness of
which man will be capable in another world must be adapted
to his nature, not as a corporeal but as a spiritual being. As
such a being, and destitute of holiness, what will be his capacity for happiness? Will he then be capable of happiness
from the gratification of avarice, or pride, or ambition, or lust,
or from the indulgence of any appetite or passion which he
now possesses, and which can possibly remain when the body
molders into dust? On the supposition that all the appetites
and passions fiom which he has derived happiness here, may
go with man into another world, what objects can there be
found to administer the least gratification? Plainly, nothing
from which the unholy derive pleasure in this world will be
found in heaven. The avaricious will not find in heaven his
bags of gold; the ambitious will not find the applauses of his
fellow-worms; nor the glutton his luxuries; nor the drunkard
his cups; nor the unclean the objects of his lusts; nor the
profane reveler his blasphemous associates; nor the oppressor
his slaves. That world contains not objects like these. And
yet from these objects only, is the man destitute of holiness
capable of deriving the least enjoyment. In God he has no
delight.  The moment, therefore, he enters eternity, he is
stripped of every particle of enjoyment. In all heaven, there
is not a single thing to please his taste or gratify his wishes.
Eternity to him is an absolute waste.
4. From  the fact that the character of man becomes unchangeable at death.
A mere separation of the soul from the body cannot alter
the moral state of the soul, or change its views, affections or
character. This is abundantly decided in the inspired oracles.




HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN.    207
"There is no work, nor device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom in
the grave, whither thou goest." " The night cometh, when no
man can work."  " Where the tree falleth, there shall it be."
Especially does the solemn decision in the last chapter of
Revelation settle this point: " Ie that is unjust, let him be
unjust still; and he which is filthy, let him be filthy still."
The present state is the only state of probation to man. All
beyond is unchangeable character and eternal retribution. If,
therefore, the character be unholy, formed by objects pertaining exclusively to this world, there will be no change to correspond with the causes of happiness in another. Vain, then,
is the expectation that we may, while in a state of preparation for eternal allotments, seek our chief good in the things
of this life, and at death undergo a transformation which will
qualify us to derive happiness from the things of another.
Brethren, if we make this world our portion, we must carry it
with us into eternity; we must at least be able to extinguish
the last fires which the Almighty will kindle upon it, or we
cannot be happy. God will not change; heaven will not
change; man will not change; the world will be burnt up;
and where, then, will be the resource for the unholy?
5. From the nature of the soul.
The soul of man is formed with natural capacities for happiness. As intellectual, voluntary and immortal, it is destined
by its Maker to enjoy that happiness which corresponds with
its nature. Its desires are large, like its capacities, and will
forever aspire after that immeasurable good which alone can
fill them. It cannot submit to total deprivation with indifference; it cannot be satisfied with mere vanity; it cannot be
happy by being freed from positive suffering. The mere absence of good will leave the soul in want. With quenchless
desires, it will still thirst for happiness till it be filled with
that for which its Creator constructed its capacities. God
himself only can fill and satisfy it.
Happiness does not depend on mere locality; it depends on
the natural constitution of the immortal spirit, and on the




208    HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN.
objects which are adapted to that constitution. God and his
glory, and nothing beside, are adapted to the nature of intelligent and moral beings. Look through the universe, and there
is nothing on which the soul of man can fix as an object of
contemplation or love which can satisfy it but God. Fix on
what else it may- ushered into eternity, and there unoccupied
-unblessed with God, as an object of delight, the soul will
still stretch its desires into immortality, and remain poor, and
wretched, and blind, and naked, and in want of all things. It
will be the immortal spirit-with all those capacities, desires
and energies, which point out its original destiny to be high
in the realms of bliss, and to be filled with all the fullness of
God-still in want! Destitute, poor, having nothing!
6. If we consider what heaven is.
All the inhabitants, employments and joys of that world are
holy. HIence it is called "the high and holy place;" and
from the manifestations of God there made, it is called "' the
habitation of his holiness." The unholy can find no happiness
in the society of heaven. It is the residence of God. There
God appears "glorious in holiness."  Ilis holiness is his glory
-that glory which is above the heavens-on which angels
cannot look with steadfast vision, and before which they vail
their faces. Ihow could the unholy bear such displays of the
Deity as these? When the glories of God's holiness should
thus blaze upon them, how would their eyes fail, and their
hearts die within them!
Every being in that world reflects the image of God. There
is not one who is not admitted there for the very purpose of
glorifying God by thus reflecting his image; not one whose
feelings, whose affections, pursuits and joys do not result from
perfect holiness. Where, in heaven itself, could the unholy
find a firiend or an associate? They abhor the fellowship of
the holy on earth, unless their specific character be concealed.
This substantial dissimilarity of character in the righteous, of
tastes and pursuits, cannot result in harmonious and delightful intercourse. In heaven, that character will not be con



HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN.    209
cealed, but shine in unblemished luster. Angels or saints
cannot love, or welcome to their society, one who is an enemy
to the God whom they serve. In all heaven, then, he can
find no kindred spirit. Placed in the midst of its innuminerable hosts, he must be, and feel himself to be, a solitary, forsaken outcast.
Nor can he find happiness in the employments of heaven.
These consist in active beneficence, and in the pure and perfect worship of God. Angels are "ministering spirits;" and
of saints it is said, "' they serve God day and night."  Of the
precise nature of the acts of beneficence, we have no distinct
information. The blessedness of doing good is the highest
kind of happiness of which man is capable; and that God will
perpetuate that lind of instrumentality by which he now
blesses the holy universe, there can be no doubt. Heaven is
a world of active beneficence-a practical comment on the
great rule of righteousness-" It is more blessed to give than
to receive." God is the great fountain of this blessedness;
and the united efforts of all holy beings are streams of good,
universal, unceasing, and immortal. No selfish affection is
known. Every mind is expanded with affections, embracing
universal good. On this object every eye is turned. With
this every heart thrills; to this every hand is devoted. To fly
on angels' wings to execute God's commandments in imparting
good, is no small part of the delightful service of the saved.
But for work so divine the sinner has no heart. His affections are all selfish; his designs, and plans, and efforts all
center in self. His only scheme of happiness is to gain good
from others. For that happiness which consists in doing good,
he has no taste-of its nature or degree, he has no conception.
In this great and commanding pursuit of heaven, he could
not engage. Every wish ofl his heart must be opposed to the
one great end for which heaven was formed. This employmient of heaven to him must be a tedious drudgery-a cruel
bondage; and its rewards, instead of the inherent blessedness
of doing good, a sort of damnation.
14




210    HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN.
Another principal employment in heaven is the worship of
God. In almost every glimpse afforded of that world, we find
the angels and the spirits of just men made perfect, bowing
with adoration and transport before the throne of God. When
Isaiah, in his vision, saw the seraphim standing before the
throne of God, and covering their faces from the glory of his
presence, he heard them crying, one to another, with voices
that shook the pillars of the eternal temple: "Holy, holy,,holy is the Lord God of hosts." So, when Daniel saw the
"Ancient of days" on his throne, which was "like a fiery
flame," "thousand thousands ministered unto him, and ten
thousand times ten thousand stood before him." And in later
times, when John saw heaven opened, he heard again and
again the voice of many angels, and of the redeemed multitude, "saying, with a loud voice, Worthy is the Lamb that
was slain to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and
strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing." And he tells
us, "they rest not day and night, saying, Holy, holy, holy,
Lord God Almighty, which was, and is, and is to come."
Every thing we hear in that world is the voice of praise
and thanksgiving -the universal burst of gratitude, and wonder, and love, in songs of joy and transport, filling all its
arches, and making all its pillars tremble.
Now, what meetness for heaven can he have who has no
taste for the service and worship of God on earth? To the
house of God he comes with a thoughtless, wandering mind,
and with no delight in its sacred duties. To secret prayer he
is a stranger; or, if forced upon it by conscience, he only finds
the more certainly how much he dislikes it. How much at a
loss must he be to join in the notes of heaven, who has no
taste for contemplating the glory of God, no eye for beholding
him in his works, no delight in meditating on his perfections!
He has never seen his need of a Saviour, never sought redemption by the blood of Christ, nor felt his obligations to
him. How, then, can he fall at the feet of Jesus, and adore
him in the songs of the redeemed? What has an enemy of




HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN.    211
God to do with employments and joys like these? Alas! he
knows not the meaning of the eternal song: " Worthy is the
Lamb that was slain." There is not a single note in that song
which he can sing, not a single sentiment which he can adopt,
not a single ecstasy which he can feel. Love, and love only,
produces all this; and love he hath not. Admitted into that
world, what has he gained? An entrance into that temple
which is filled with the presence and glory of God. What
has he gained?  Consummate felicity-the perfection of happiness-all that the immortal spirit can desire-all that God
can give? No; he has obtained the liberty of serving God,
day and night, with adoration, and love, and joy, and transport. But that God he hates, that employment he loathes;
and, in the midst of all that ocean of blessedness, there is not
one drop for him. On him, heaven were a gift bestowed in
vain.
REM ARKS.
i. Every impenitent sinner may be convinced, from his own
experience, of the necessity of a new heart to fit him for
heaven.
Our blessed Lord has said: " Marvel nlot, that I say unto
you, ye must be born again;" "That which is born of the
flesh, is flesh; and that which is born of the Spirit, is spirit:"
as if he had said, it is no cause for wonderl that your moral
character must be changed to fit you for heaven. If you reflect on the nature of that world, the character of God, of
saints, and of angels, their employments, and the sources of
their happiness; and then consider your own present disposition toward these objects, there is nothing to be wondered at
in this doctrine. The simple fact that heaven is a holy place,
and that the sinner is unholy, settles this point to the full conviction of every honest mind. The sinner cannot look at himself, without the fullest testimony to the necessity of a new
heart. He carries it in his own bosom. He knows that there




212    HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN.
is no peculiar transcendent sweetness in the name of Jesus to
his soul-nothing in that beloved name, which makes heaven
resound Nwith gratulation and joy, in which he, with his pressent feelings, could find unmingled and endless bliss.  He
knows that, in this theme, he has never found delight, that
his thoughts have moved in another channel, that his affections
have been fixed on other objects. tie knows what constant
constraint he feels in the company of the pious on earth, what
~desire to quit their society, and what liberty, the moment he
is permitted to rejoin those friends whose tastes and conversation are as carnal as his own. lie knows that it is not his
daily study, endeavor, and delight to draw near to God, to live
to his glory, and to advance in fitness for his eternal presence.
He knows that the nearer religious service brings him to God,
the more clearly divine truth exhibits the necessity of renouncing the world, and exposes his guilt the more he dislikes them. HIe knows that to attain the holy character and
holy happiness of heaven, is not the consummation of his
wishes-the chief desire of his heart; and he know-s, by plain
and inevitable consequence, that "except he be born again,
he cannot see the kingdom of God."
5M~/y dear hearlers, let me bring this subject home to each one
of you, whose conscience tells him that he is yet unholy, without love to God, without delight in his being and perfections.
You may indulge strong hopes of heaven-doubtless you do;
you could not remain at ease without it. But God forbid
that you should take up on slight grounds such a hope as this.
And if you are unholy —seeing and knowing, as you must,
that you are a stranger to the love of God-how can. you indulge it? That God who cannot lie has declared, that you
cannot see his kingdom. All his attributes are pledged to exclude you from his blissful presence. We have seen that you
cannot derive happiness from this world, when removed into
that eternity which is just before you; that, in all that eternity, not a single object can be found to satisfy any one desire
which you have ever known; that your soul, stretching with




HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN.    213
desire into immortality, must suffer eternal want. You have
seen that, even were you admitted into heaven, there would
be no happiness for you; that all its joys spring from love to
God, from the delight which is taken in the pleasures of its
holy society, holy employments, and holy joys. No, fellowsinner; admitted into heaven, there is no song which you can
sing. Love, and love only, sounds the notes of that world.
You have no love. You could not sing. God, you do not
love-the Lamb on the throne, you do not love; and while
angels and blessed spirits are shouting the praises of Jesus
around the throne of God, you would stand aghast and amazed
in eternal silence, a forsaken, lonely being-deriving nothing
from their sources of joy, but an awful sense of God's holy
presence, and a tormenting sight of his glories; and while, with
endless and boundless raptures, the heavenly host should cry,
"' Worthy is the Lamb;" you could only utter, in the language
of real feeling, " Oh, what a weariness is it!" Miserable
wretch! Surrounded with all that blesses the bright hosts ot
glory, and unable to taste one particle of that bliss with which
their cup overflows-a silent, solitary outcast in the midst ot
heaven! Search the whole extent of heaven, from one end to
the other, you could not find an associate. Those who on
earth dissolved the ties of friendship to separate from you,
could not welcome you to, nor could you endure their society.
Prophets would turn indignant from you-apostles, and all
the redeemed multitude, would behold you with terror, as still
the enemy of their Saviour-angels and archangels, who never
knew what sin was, would fly from you with consternation.
The presence of an omnipotent God, "of purer eyes than to
behold iniquity," thou canst not bear. Fly, then, from his
throne. Fly from his tremendous presence. Fly from heaven
— it fills thee with unutterable agonies. - Hell is your only
refuge-your only relief from the torments with which heaven
would overwhelm the unholy soul!
But now the day of mercy shines; the voice of everlasting
love is heard, calling you to life. God has no pleasure in




214    HOLINESS ALONE FITS FOR HEAVEN.
your death. Heaven now lifts up its everlasting doors, and
throws open its everlasting gates. Jesus invites; angels wait
to witness your purpose to-day. And, sinner, shall it again
be told in the courts of heaven that you again refuse to regard
the calls of mercy? Shall this day pass away, and no preparation for heaven be begun? With such unfitness for heaven,
shall another hour-shall this bright hour of mercy-be wasted
in increasing your fitness for hell-wasted in giving new power
to every cause which ever did confirm the soul in sin, and
plunge it into endless woe?
2. Christian brethren, "what manner of persons ought ye
to be in all holy conversation and godliness?" When a sinner
-exposed to wrath-a sovereign God began a work in you
which he will carry on to the end, and which, when finished
will perfect your fitness for his eternal presence.  Behold
the change! This heir of misery and slave of sin is redeemed, and the grace of God is preparing him for the
society, the employment and the joys of heaven. All those
obstacles which once excluded you from the beatific vision of
God are taken away, and that conformity of affections and
desires to God, to angels and redeemed spirits is preparing
you to partake of their blessedness. You are now journeying
through a vale of tears; you are now tempted and sorrowful.
But your portion is not here; your treasures are not here;
your home is not here; "you seek a heavenly," and will soon
be translated where there will be neither temptation nor pain,
and where all tears will be wiped away. You shall soon be like
the redeemed saints, like angels, like God, and near his throne.
Your spiritual joys, now languid, partial and infrequent, shall
soon be full, constant and eternal. One spirit shall reign
through heaven; one song employ every tongue. From glory
to glory you shall be changed. You shall be like Jesus, for
you shall see him as he is. Your God shall be all and in all,
forever and ever. Amen.




XVI.
GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED.
PSALMS vii. 2.' God is angry with the wicked every day."
WERvE any one of us to be placed completely in the power
of some mysterious stranger, and especially did we know that
our conduct had been such as naturally to awaken his displeasure, we should feel a deep concern to ascertain what
were his actual dispositions and purposes toward us. With
constant solicitude, we should watch for something that
would indicate his designs, and help us to decide what expectations we might entertain from him. Not so, however, do
most men feel, when the being, in whose power they know
they are, and whose displeasure they know they have justly
provoked, is the almighty God. No subject, perhaps, is more
cursorily thought of, by multitudes, than the manner in which
they are constantly regarded by this great Being. With every
cause for anxiety, they are even without the feelings of common curiosity, and dismiss the inquiry, with a careless confidence that they are the objects of God's favor, and have no
evil to expect from his hand.
Widely different is the view of God given us in the revelation of God. The text, in accordance with the whole tenor of
the Scriptures, represents wicked men as the objects of God's
constant and high displeasure. " God is angry with the wicked
every day."
My design isFirst, To explain what is meant by the anger of God; and




216       GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED.
Second, To confirm the declaration in the text.
I. The word rendered anger in the Scriptures denotes a
strong affection or emotion of mind, excited by injury or opposition from others, and which leads its subject to injure in
return.
Whether this affection can be lawful, or morally right, in
any case-a question much debated-depends entirely upon
another; viz., whether there can be a fit and proper object of
such an emotion? By this test, it is, indeed, sufficiently easy
to decide that anger, as it commonly exists in the human
bosom, and resulting, as it does, from a selfish regard to our
own personal private interests, is wholly a selfish, malignant
passion, and wholly sinful.  Such an affection cannot, of
course, pertain to the divine mind. Now, could anger be
excited only by a regard to selfish interests, and were this the
only meaning of the term, then we might be able to say what
this language does not mean, but we would be unable to say,
or even to conjecture, what it does mean.
But, if there be an object proper to awaken this emotionif, in the very nature of things, there be the same moral fitness for dislike and hatred toward one object, which there is
in other objects for approbation and love, then anger, in such
a case, is not a sinful or unworthy emotion. Now, there is
such a fitness in some objects. Fiends aiming with fell spirit
at the destruction of the souls of men, are as fit objects of
hatred, as angels ministering to the heirs of salvation are of
love. Anger, then, may have a fit and proper object, and be
a morally right affection.
God, as the moral governor of men, has interests to secure,
and designs to accomplish, and this by their loyal, active cooperation, in obedience to his will. These interests and these
designs are dictated by infinite wisdom and goodness, and are
worthy of the God who formed them.
Now, against the designs and interests of a perfect God, the
wicked are arrayed in direct and open hostility. In this character, they are the fit objects of God's anger. In other words,




GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED.                217
they are fit objects of that emotion which abhors their character, and determines God to inflict punishment.
The anger of God is only that indignation which benevolence itself must feel toward the enemies of all good. It is of
the very nature of benevolence to show itself in different emotions, as its objects vary. So when God looks on sinners simply in reference to their character as rebels against his government, and hostile to his perfect designs, his very benevolence
regards them with that indignation which inflicts evil. He
looks on them with anger-with the same emotion which now
speaks in the terror of his threatenings, and will hereafter
speak in the thunders of executed wrath.
I proceed, as I proposedII. To confirm the declaration in the text, "God is angry
with the wicked every day."
1. This truth is often affirmed in the Scriptures: " Thou art
of purer eyes than to behold evil;" " Thou hatest all workers
of iniquity;" "'The wrath of God is revealed from heaven
against all ungodliness and unrighteousness of men."
When on the other hand, God forgives iniquity, he is replresented as turning away his anger-as turning from the fierceness of his anger-as not retaining his wrath-as reconciledas pacified toward the objects of his wrath. In these and
similar declarations, it is the obvious design of God to exhibit
himself not as an indifferent spectator, or as the friend and
protector of the wicked, but as a God who looketh upon them
with anger. Why else is this language used in God's revelation of himself. Is it to convey no ideas to the minds of men,
or none but the mere negative idea of exemption from the sinful passions of men?  Or rather, is it not to make a distinct
and strong impression of the actual feelings of God toward the
wicked-real emotions of the infinite Being, that in view of
them the wicked may tremble for fear of him? If not, the
Bible is not a revelation.
2. From the holiness of God.
This attribute may be viewed in different ways, or under
Vol. I.-o10




218       GOD ANGRY WIT H THE WICKED.
different aspects; one as it leads God to approve of holiness
in his creatures. "The righteous Lord loveth righteousness."
It can no more be supposed that God can have an affection of
one kind toward an object, and not have the opposite affection
toward an opposite object, than it can be that he is as destitute
of affections as a statue. Just so certain, then, as God, from
the perfection of his nature, regards holiness with approbation
that leads him to bless its subject, so certain is it that he regaids sin with that affection or emotion of mind the proper
expression of which is the infliction of evil on its subject; in
other words, with ANGER.
But holiness also denotes contrast or separation in its original and primary application. The holiness of God may be
viewed as the opposition of the divine nature to all moral impurity and moral deformity. If, then, we would form just
views of God as a holy God, we must look at the moral perfection of God in its lofty separation from all moral defilement;
at the nature of God in its irreconcilable variance with all
sin-its eternal, immutable contrariety to it. And what must
be the degree of this perfection when it exalts God to such an
elevation, that " the heavens are not clean in his sight," and
that " angels are charged with folly?" And what must that
perfection be which so revolts all the sensibilities of the Godhead that, in the language of his prophet, he is shocked at the
sight of it?  How, in the sanctuary of his presence-how,
under the pure eye of such a Being, must the sinner appear!
How must the divinity recoil from him! How must the anger
of God kindle into a fire of indignation, when one so vile offers
to draw nigh! And yet, under his eye the sinner lives and
acts every day. So sure, then, as there is an omniscient and
a holy God, so sure are the wicked the constant objects of his
anger.
3. From the justice of God and the tendency of sin.
By the justice of God we understand the moral perfection of
God as directed to uphold his moral government, and to secure
its results. It is in this character that the Lord our God is a




GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED.,.219
jealous God. Jealous for the glory of his name-jealous for
the honor of his law-jealous for the accomplishment of his
purposes. For the accomplishment of these designs designs
which give to God's dominion all its grandeur and worthall the perfections of God stand committed. On this end-so
worthy of a God-all the affections of God are fixed. It: is
the only object compaied with others on which the perfect
God places any value. At this end, sin aims destruction. If
the purposes of sin succeed, the purposes of God fail. If the
purposes of sin succeed, the authority of God is trampled in
the dust, his throne subverted from the foundation, his kingdom desolated of every vestige of happiness; and instead of a
universe blessed by a reigning God-blessed by the expressions of infinite benevolence in the communication of goodsin would reign, and fill with its unmitigated horrors and woes
the expanse of God's creation. IHow, then, must the perpetrator of deeds like these appear to a just God?  What must
be the moral aspect of an enemy to all, that the infinite God
values? With what other emotion but anger can God look
upon him who is governed by a spirit like this?
4. That God is angry with the wicked is evident from their
resemblance in character to those who experience the wrath
of God in the world of punishment.
The wicked in this world, and the wicked in the world of
perdition, possess substantially the same character. If, then,
this character awaken the anger of God in that world, no reason can be given why it does not also awaken his anger in
this. It cannot be said that the anger of God expressed in the
torments of the damned is to be ascribed simply to their
greater measure of guilt; for undoubtedly, there are multitudes under- the light of the gospel, whose guilt is greater than
that of multitudes on whom God now pours out his wrath,
and who have abused no such blessings. It cannot be said
that the moral deformity of sinners in this world is mitigated
by certain amiable traits which pertain not to the character of
the damned; and that therefore while God is angry with one




220       GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED.
class, he is not with the other. There is no such mitigation
of the moral deformity of the wicked here which exempts from
an unqualified charge of sin in every voluntary action. Their
moral character is made up of selfishness, and that is all that
can be said of the prince of darkness. Nothing can be said in
palliation or mitigation of their total depravity, which cannot
be said with equal truth against his total depravity. If they
speak truth, and show kindness to others, to subserve their
selfish purposes, so does he. Otherwise his kingdom would
be divided against itself, and could not stand. If they approve
in their conscience of moral excellence, so does he. He confessed Christ to be " the holy one of God."  If they in their
conscience disapprove of what is selfish and sinful, so does he.
He condemned Job as sustaining such a character. Satan
does nothing but under the commanding principle of selfishness; neither do wicked men. In point of principle in its real
nature-that is, in substantial character-there is no real difference between sinners in this world and the most depraved
beings in the universe. There is no other sin but selfishness
in any being. The wicked, then, cherish the essential principle of all rebellion against God-the very spirit that rebelled
against his throne in the heavens —the very spirit that now
reigns in hell-the very spirit that has exiled this world from
the favor of its Maker, and brings down his curse upon it-the
very spirit that, unrestrained, would carry desolation through
the empire of Jeliovah, and, should God himself obstruct its
progress, would rise on him with the temper of an infernal.
And if such a character awakens the anger of God in hell,
why does it not also on earth? It does; and against thousands who live only to abuse that forbearance that prolongs
their day of mercy, the anger of God rises as high as against
many who feel its full expression in the torments of the
damned.
5. That God is angry with the wicked, appears from many
of God's dispensations toward them.
The difference between the state of the righteous and that




GOD ANGRY  WITH THE WICKED.                221
of the wicked in this life, strongly bespeaks the anger of God
toward the latter. To the former, God has promised that all
things shall work together for their good. To the latter, no
real good is secured.  To the former, every gift of divine
bounty will prove a blessing; to the other, there is no security that every earthly good will not prove an ultimate curse.
To the one, under a sense of sin and guilt, the blood of Christ
speaks peace —to the other, the reproaches and stings of conscience are a fearful prelude to the gnawings of the worm that:
never dies. To the one, under the pressure of the ills and
calamities of life, is secured the support of the everlasting arm;
to the other, under the same afflictions, no refuge is proviled-no security given that even divine chastisement will
serve any purpose, but to harden his heart, and augment his
final doom. To the one is vouchsafed in the covenant of God,
the privilege of asking and receiving-to the other, is made
known only present exclusion firom the mlercy-seat; no promlise of grace to awaken, or to satisfy. To the one, death-the
last enemy —is divested of his terrors by the bright visions of
Christian promise; to the other, it is the day of darkness and
despair —the termination of all good, the prelude of the horrors of the second death. To the one, the day of account is
the day of triumph, the consummation of all that he had
hoped, or prayed for, of all that, as an immortal being, he
had expected, or can need-to the other, of meeting God in
the terrors of an incensed Judge, to bear his anger in the inflicted woes of damnation. Such is the record. Can more
decisive proof be given that the wicked are the objects of
God's present displeasure?  Why this amazing difference in
all that is really substantial and important in his dispensations
toward the righteous and the wicked, except that the one class
are the objects of his love-the other of his anger?
tREM ARK S.
1. tIow false and dangerous to deny the reality of the divine anger.
11*




222       GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED.
With many it is a faishionable method of interpretation, to
resolve all those texts in the Bible which speak of the anger
of God, into a figure, and thus, in fact, to divest them of all
definite meaning. Others adopt a still bolder expedient, and
affirm that, to suppose a benevolent God, a God of love, exercises anger, or any emotion like anger, toward any of his
creatures, is the height of absurdity. In reply to all this, and
in view of what has been said, we ask, can there be a perfect
God, without anger against sin, and against sinners? Do you
say, it represents God as the subject of the selfish passions of
men?  God forbid! It ascribes to God an attribute far more
dreadful to the sinner-an attribute not at all resembling the
fitful, capricious passion of anger in sinful man-not an attribute to be bribed, or changed, or pacified, while its object is
the same; but the righteous, immutable, holy anger of a God
intent on his designs of infinite benevolence, an attribute resulting from the very perfections of the Godhead-an attribute which is sure to guard the empire of righteousness, and
the stabilities of the eternal throne, though worlds sink under
its just and full expressions against the wicked. And here
the secret of this atheism is out. The wicked cannot bear to
think of such a God. A God all kindness to them-a God
who will regard rebels and loyal subjects with the same indiscriminating indulgence, is the God who is welcome to their
imaginations, and in whom they are willing to believe. Let
them persuade themselves that such an image is a reality.
They may do it. They may disregard the reality that there
is such a God as the Scriptures reveal-they may forget that
God has proposed an end worthy of himself in creation-that
he has placed men under the high responsibilities of acting
as friends or enemies-they may deny that they are made
in God's image-sink themselves to insects of a day; and
throw all the responsibility of their eternal destiny upon
their Maker, instead of acting under it. They may think or
say God must take care of the interests of his own creatures,
-God will not punish —God is not displeased; and this even




GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED,              223
when living amid the shafts of his indignation falling thick
and fast around them. Thus they may efface from their
minds the dread of him-they may force away from them the
convictions and the alarms of guilt-they may benumb the
soul into the apathy of death, and sleep away these hours of
their probation in the hope of meeting an indulgent God in
eternity. But, oh! the reality is not changed. Still in those
heavens there is a "God angry with the wicked every day."
There is a God looking out from the dark cloud of his vengeance upon them, who, in a moment can, and in a moment
may, make them know, by making them feel his wrath, in all
its tribulation and anguish in hell.
2. If God be angry with the wicked every day, how vain is
the belief that they can secure his favor by any thing they do
while continuing in sin!
There is no conceit of which the minds of sinners are more
fond, none to which they cling with more unyielding tenacity,
even under religious awakening, than this, that they can, and
shall do, something to propitiate the favor of God without
repentance.  But here let such dreaming end.  "God is
angry with the wicked every day."  Not with the wicked
of some particular character, but with the wicked of every
character. The open, grossly wicked; the decently morally
wicked; the stupidly wicked; the awakened, anxious, praying wicked;-the wicked, young or old, wise or ignorant, rich
or poor, moral or immoral, stupid or awakened, up to the
moment of his repentance, is still wicked, and still God is
angry with him.
I know, my hearers, how hard it is to believe this; I know
how reluctant the heart is to admit that nothing short of the
surrendery of the heart to God can secure the favor of God.
But so it is, and so it must be. Until you can change the
essential nature of God himself —until you can effect such a
transformation in his perfections that his holiness and justice
and goodness shall approve of sin-until you can contrive
some expedient by which you can remain under the curse of




224       GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED.
God, and yet be the object of his complacency-until you can
sustain the very character which draws down his wrath in hell,
and yet be the object of his approbation-until every dispensation of God in his providence, which is dictated by his displeasure, shall become tokens of his favor —until all this can
be done, or until you give God your heart, you will remain
the object of his constant anger. Do what else you willreform, seek, read, weep, pray-you are wicked, your character without one trait of alleviation, is that of an enemy of
God and of all good, and yourself a fit object of abhorrence.
And this I say not to discourage —not to prevent your efforts
to repent, but to induce you to abandon every thing else and
force you to such efforts, as affording all the hope there is for
you. Do you say it will do no good? Try it. Do you say
you cannot become a Christian in this way?  Try it. Do you
say you cannot give your heart to God so long as he is angry
with you? Try it try it; for except ye repent of your sins
against an offended God, you must bear his anger to all eternity.
3. HIow changed is the condition of the righteous!
Once he was the object of God's anger, and all that is dark
and appalling in such a relation to that infinite Being, filled
his prospect for eternity. But how changed his state! By repentance for sin-so reasonable a service-he has become the
object of his everlasting love. That throne of wrath is changed
into a throne of grace and mercy; that frown of anger into the
smile of reconciliation.  The benevolence of God, kindling
with indignation to destroy, is benevolence directing its intensest affections and pledging its richest gifts to bless. 01m
nipotence once committed to destroy, encircles with the everlasting arms of protection. iNo hour of weakness, but he may
lean on that arm. Under no wants, but he may ask of him,
who will freely give him all things. No day of darkness and
distress but God is his refuge. Fearless, confiding, cheerful,
happy, triumphant, in life, in death, his language is, " Lo, this
is my God, I have waited for him, he will come and save me."




GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED.              225
Oh, how unlike the man who has nothing to hope for from his
God-who sustains no relation to him but that of danger!
What prospects for eternity once were his! What prospects
now open before him as eternity and its realities come near!
Oh, Christian, you talk of the love of God; but you know
nothing of it, till you know the wrath of God from which it
delivers! Estimate that love as you will in the emotions of
God toward you, when fiom your throne in the heavens you
shall see its length, and breadth, and height, and depth, as
you behold the wicked in the ascending smoke of their torment, and look around on the glories of your everlasting
abode.
4. How awful is the situation of the stupid sinner!
God is angry with him every day, and he heeds it not. HTe
is the fit object of God's anger-a fit object of abhorrence to
the very benevolence of God. Jehovah could not be a holy
and just God, and not regard the sinner with displeasure.
Thus God does regard him every day-constantly.  Here,
fellow-sinners, you are.  Your life is a vapor-you cannot
prolong it a moment. That supporting, forgotten hand of an
angry God withdrawn, and you sink to death and hell in a
moment. You have no means of appeasing the divine anger,
none of preventing its immediate and full expression in the
lake of fire. You sustain the same character in the sight of
God, which has drawn down his wrath upon thousands of your
fellow-beings. You have no mediator to interpose in your
behalf —no promise of God to plead-no expedient by which
to prevail on God to defer deserved vengeance-not a reason
can you give, why you should not sink under its fearful infliction this moment. You are living only to multiply your
provocations, and to augment his anger. Thus is the storm of
almighty wrath gathering over you, ready to burst upon your
head; and you are asleep-yes, asleep, while God is angry
with you every moment. You can turn away your thought&s
from that awful Being-you can summon the preacher to the
tribunal of criticism, and pronounce sentence upon the ser10o*                                      15




226       GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED.
mon; or you can recur to other topics of thought, and go
away to plan your business and your pleasures. But stop, sinner. God is angry with you. The fact —the awful fact, has
been proved. You know it; your stupidity and unconcern
will not alter it. You can forget God-but God will not forget
you.  Still, at each successive moment, he looks upon you
with angel. You may flatter yourself with the delusion that
life will be prolonged. But the reality in the heavens is a
God angry with you angry with you every day. Take, thenl,
fellow-sinner, this truth away with you-think of it wherever
you are-whatever you do-think of it, God is angry witah
mre —God is angry with me.
And if you forget it-if you disregard it-remember you
add another provocation to God to come out in the fierceness
of his wrath against you. See what a bold and determined
spirit of rebellion you have-that the known acknowledged
reality of an angry God shakes not your purpose. And should
this purpose continue, as we fear it will in many, till the day
of God's executed wrath arrives-should you, as you may, before that declining sun shall rise again, know what the anger
of God is, by feeling it in hell, then I am clear of your blood.
I have told you-no, the voice of inspiration hath told youthat God is angry with you. This remembered hour of mercy
-these remembered walls and seats-this desk —this voicewill witness to your memory; the white throne and the Judge
upon it-the myriads of all nations-your own consciencesthe rolling years and ages of tribulation and despair will witness-God, as he deals the strokes of his wrath without mitigation and without end, will witness that to-day you deliberately resolved still to defy an angry God.
Oh, then, will you not now make God your friend? By
repenting of sin-by sorrow for the basest ingratitude-by
hating and renouncing a character which God hates-you become the object of his everlasting love. That throne of wrath
is changed into a throne of grace and mercy-that frown of
anger into the smile of reconciliation. The benevolence of




GOD ANGRY WITH THE WICKED.             227
God —now kindling with indignation to destroy-will direct
its intensest affections, and pledge its richest gifts to bless you.
Omnipotence-conmmitted to destroy soul and body in hellwill encircle you with the everlasting arms of protection. No
hour of weakness but you may lean on that arm; under no
wants but you may ask of him, who freely giveth all things.
No day of darkness and distress, but God is your refuge.
Fearless, confident, cheerful, triumphant in life and in death,
you shall say, "Lo, this is my God; I have waited for him;
he will come and save me." Oh, how unlike him who has
nothing to hope for from his God-who sustains no relation to
the Almighty but that of danger! Oh, what will you think
of the friendship of thy God, when from a throne in the heavens you shall look downward on the wicked and see the ascending smoke of their torment! And oh, what will you
think of it should you look upward and see your companions
in the paradise of God, yourself the victim of the unchangeable wrath of the eternal God!




XVII.
TIlE GOODNESS OF GOD DESIGNED TO RECLAIM.
ROM ANS ii. 4.
"Not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to repentance."
THERE is no more striking and decisive proof of moral
degradation, than to overlook and pervert the kindness of a
benefactor. Unmerited favors create obligation on the part
of him who receives them, not only to gratitude, but to that
use of them intended by the giver. Have you ever bestowed
your alms on a poor mendicant, to shelter him from the inclemency of the storm, or to relieve the pains and sufferings
of hunger, and found him wasting your gifts in intemperate
and brutal indulgence-how strongly has it evinced to you his
extreme degradation of character! Has a parent, to reclaim
a wayward son, lavished upon him his kindness-has he gone
after him to the hovel of infamy, and brought him to his paternal dwelling, clothed his nakedness, anxiously studied the
supply of his wants, and again put in his power the means of
reputation, of competence, and of comfort; and has the only
result been a perversion of all his beneficence, to purposes of
crime and wretchedness, a father's broken heart can tell, how
low, how lost his child has become!
It is to a similar perversion of the goodness of God, that
the apostle calls our attention in the text. " Or despisest thou
the riches of his goodness, and forbearance, and long-suffering, not knowing that the goodness of God leadeth thee to
repentance?"




THE GOODNESS OF GOD, ETC.              229
My object, in the present discourse, is simply to consider
the tendency of the goodness of God to lead sinners to repentance.
It has this tendencyI. As it enforces the commandments of God.
The commands of God are not merely the commands of a
being who has the prerogative to govern by virtue of his
power and supremacy —not merely the commands of one
whom it is our interest to obey, and whom, if we would regard those interests, necessity obliges us to obey; they are
not merely the commands of a being of absolute perfection,
and who, by them, aims to produce in us the highest elevation
of character, and the highest measure of happiness; but they
are the commands of our benefactor-our benefactor, amid all
our rebellion, and all our ingratitude. It is this God who
commands us to repent. The God who, having made us of
nothing, still keeps us-the God, in whom "we live, and
smove, and have our being"-the God, whose care and whose
presence are ever surrounding us-the God who, from morning to night, and from night to morning, watches over us,
attends us while we sleep, and guides us when awake-who
goes with us in all the business of the world-returns us in
safety to our homes-gives us our friends, our health, our
raiment, our food, and never, for a single instant, withdraws
the notice of that eye that never slumbers, and the protection
of that hand that is never weary. It is this God who commands us to repent. Now, we require a fair estimate of his
claims. Has he, as our almighty Sovereign, a right to govern-has he this right inalienable-ought we to obey; and do
the blessings heaped upon us add nothing to our obligation?
When he asks the affections of that alienated heart, which
receives its every beat from the impulse of his power-when
he asks the devotedness of that life, which owes its every hour,
and every moment, to his sustaining right hand-when he
draws around us such a circle of enjoyments-when he still
multiplies his gifts of nature and providence, and when his
17




230            THE GOODNESS OF GOD
gifts steal away our hearts from the Giver, still keeps open
the way, through the blood of his Son, for our return, and
still invites and welcomes us back to his love, is there no
weight added to our obligations? IHas this all-providing God
no claim on us by his mercies? 
This tendency is seenII. As it appeals to the tenderest and strongest sensibilities
of our nature.
There is no principle of human nature, fallen and degraded
as it is, that is more obvious, none that is more commonly recognized in our intercourse with one another, or that remains
in the descending progress of depravity longer with us, than
that which leads us to requite kindness with kindness. If we
would persuade a child to self-denial-if we would secure the
faithfulness of a servant, or if we would command the cooperation of our equals, we know that we are never so sure of
our object, as when we assail them by the influence of kindness. This principle lingers about our nature in the last and
lowest stages of wickedness; and the celebrated Howard, who
visited the prisons and dungeons of Europe, those habitations
of vice and crime, has told us that there is a way of managing
even the most hardened malefactors, and that way is, by treating them with tenderness, and showing them that you have
humanity.
There is an anecdote related of a distinguished minister of
the gospel, which furnishes so striking an illustration of this
principle of our nature, that I may be justified in relating it.
On a journey, he was stopped by a highwayman, and called
on to deliver his purse, with the weapon of death presented at
his breast. " Wait," said the man of God, " for one moment;"
and instantly fell on his knees, and offered a fervent prayer
for the unhappy man before him. The murderer stood silent,
and listened. When the holy man had finished his supplication, he said to him for whom he had prayed: "Do you not
wish for some better employment than this; some other means
of a livelihood 2" The answer was in the affirmative. "Come




DESIGNED TO RECLAIM.                  231
then," said the minister, to such a place, naming his own residence, "' and without ever divulging this act of yours while
you live, such a provision shall be made for you." He confided
in the assurance of one so intent on his welfare; became a
member of his own family-an humble disciple of Christ;
and, after a life of exemplary piety, died at the age of sixty,
when, in his funeral sermon, the minister related these facts
concerning him. [Now, my hearers, you can see it. Precisely
on this principle, and by this expedient, does God assail the
hearts of sinners. To recall them to himself, lie does not rely
merely on his authority over us-he does not resort merely to
his terrors to alarm us- he does not attempt to carry the
human heart by storm. IHe, indeed, reveals enough of his
terrors to make us tremble while going on in our inquity; but
here, so to speak, he does not place his reliance. Ile who
searcheth the heart, well knows that, amid all its darkness
and corruptions, there is yet another and a surer spring that
can be touched. And, as if it were the only one, he seems to
hlave intrusted the whole cause of our recovery to the manifestations of his loving-kindness to us. ITere, he plies us with
every proof and every expression of his love, as if no obduracy
of heart, no sottishness, or hardihood of crime, could shut him
away firom access to us. The power of the remedy reaches to
the utmost limits of hope, and even of possibility. If any
species of moral influence can prevail-if hopeless degeneracy
does not mock all that the wisdom and the mercy of God can
do to persuade men to return-if there remains one solitary
hold in the guilty bosom of man, which God can reach, he
has adopted the effectual means of reaching it. God reveals
himself.  God in Christ, he unfolds himself in the decided
and attractive aspect of the God of mercy; he comes to this
world of rebellion, a beseeching suppliant for their return;
he gives it the charter of their peace, sealed with the blood
of his own Son. Every thing to touch sympathy, gratitude,
and the secret place of tenderness and tears. Thus that softer
part of our nature, which yields to the demonstrations of kind



232             THE GOODNESS OF GOD
ness, that which is quickest to feel and last to become unfeeling, is assailed. Thus, the very influence that has tamed the
vilest malefactor in his dungeon-aye, that would seem enough
to make a devil's heart silent, is poured on these prisoners of
hope-the mighty attraction of the love of a God, on the lost
creatures of his power!
This tendency is seenIIT. As it discovers to us the true character of God.
God is love, and all the expressions of his kindness to us
are only a manifestation, bringing that character before us, in
the nearest and most impressive manner. We may contemplate moral excellence in another, and admire and love it,
while the being who shall possess it, may never have been
called to show kindness to us. But let us become the objects
of that kindness-let it fix its care and tenderness on us, and
lavish its blessings on us; and we find a new and stronger
emotion rising in our hearts, and fixing our strongest affection
on the object of so mluch excellence. And if we have to such
a friend been unkind or unfaithful, how will the swellings of
grief take hold on our heart, and the tears of repentance flow
when we come again, under a sense of his excellence, manifested still and ever, in so much kindness to us! It is thus the
goodness of God leadeth to repentance-it unvails in clearest,
brightest manifestation the perfection of his character, directing all its cares, its solicitude, its tenderness to us. WVe-you
and I-are ever its objects, as if he had no other creature to
bless. True, we see not the glory of him who is invisible.
But as if to make up for this, and more than to make up for
this, he comes to us in a more impressive revelation of himself. lie opens upon us the treasures of his goodness, and
brings us to learn and to feel what he is, in our own experience. Did I say we do not see him? WVe do see him, as we
see any other spirit; we see him, as we see any other benefactor; we see hiln, in hlis acts-in his doings —in his gifts.
These tell us, what a friend to us our God is. These are but
the tenderness, the smiles of love, beaming in the face of him




DESIGNED TO RECLAIM.                  233
whom no man can see. These —these (ceaseless as our moments) open to our view-what? The heart of infinite goodness-the ardor, the strength, the whole dimensions of God's
moral perfection concentrated upon us as its object-lavishing
its gifts, falling warm from the hand of his bounty, upon our
unworthy heads. So it is, my hearers, God fastens on us these
cords of his love, and binds them on us at every step. He
constrains us to feel all the attractions of his Godhead, in our
own experience of his love. He obliges us, if we will persist
in our alienation from him, to sunder these cords, and break
away from that which binds heaven itself to his throne. We
must shut our eyes and harden our hearts against that assemblage of attributes, which wakes the songs that echo through
heaven's eternal arches, and makes all its pillars trembleagainst that God, who longs to show his capacity to bless, in
blessing us. Oh, who can, who will tear himself away from
the embrace of eternal mercy, to plunge into everlasting burnings!
IV. The expressions of God's goodness show this tendency,
in their number, their nature, and their adaptation to this end.
In the number of these blessings. What a decided expression is made of the goodness of God to us in the countless
blessings he pours upon us, while we are evil and unthankful!
The sufferings we feel, guilty as we are, are for the most part
of our own procuring, and no more than are necessary to remind us of the folly and the miseries of sin; while, with paternal solicitude and indulgence, he heaps upon us his gifts
of kindness, which we continually pervert, and prolongs the
season of enjoyment and trial, which we waste. Would we
count the number of our blessings? As the sands of the sea,
they are without number. It is his sun that lights our every
path; it is his earth on which we tread so firmly; it is his air
that circulates freshness and health around our dwellings; it
is his rain that feeds the luxuriance of our fields; it is his
heavens that drop plenty and abundance into our hands to
satisfy the wants of his dependent children.  Count your




234            THE GOODNESS OF GOD
blessings. Count every thing you delight in, and every thing
you hope for; go rounfd the circle of enjoyments, and find
what real want is unprovided for; count the daily gifts in
infancy, in youth, in manhood, in old age. When have you
been without blessings, rich and numerous blessings, from the
hand of God? Count, then, your moments, count each breath,
count each beating pulse, and the multitude of blessings which
surround you, while each passing throb is felt, and then shall
this sinner against God, and heir of hell, learn something of
the loving-kindness of his Maker. And for what are all these
blessings bestowed? Is it that we deserve them?  No. Is it
that God has complacency in our character, and regards us as
fit objects of all this kindness? No. Is it that he cannot be
glorious; and strip us of every good thing, and leave us naked
before the storm of his wrath? 1No; it is that he may prove
to us how able he is to bless-how intent he is to bless. It is
that we may not, cannot mistake him, cannot doubt, cannot
distrust his love; that thus with the cords of love and bands
of a man, he may draw us to himself.
In the nature of these blessings-multifarious as they arewe see and know that there is not one of them, nor all of them,
that can become a satisfying portion to man. Regarded as
the means of complete happiness, the experience of the world
for six thousand years pronounces them " vanity and vexation
of spirit." But with equal certainty we trace the fitness of all
of them to the great end for which they are given-the end of
our probation.  In this pilgrimage to a better world, our
divine Benefactor has thus furnished us with every accommodation, given us nothing, unless by our perversion of it, that
can draw away the heart from him and render us indifferent
to our eternal interests. Every blessing comes from his hand
with this inscription:'Take not this for your portion, but
receive it with thanksgiving, and use it with reference to your
eternal well-being. Take it; take all these gifts as the pledge,
the proofs of the love of the Creator, to his own creature —the
proofs that the benevolence of thy God longs for thy love in




DESIGNED TO RECLAIM.                 235
return, and to flow forth on thee, in a pure abundant stream
of good, forever and ever." Look for a moment at this influence in another light; it is not a single insulated part of man's
nature to which God appeals;. it is the whole man-all that
there is in him to feel —the entire sensibility of a mortal, and
of an immortal being. Every capacity of good and of evil
is appealed to; that capacity of good from food and drink; that
capacity of joy, in all the tender relations of life and every
organ of sense. The eye-what visions of beauty and grandeur
meet us on every side to show us his handy-work; the earwhat melodies wake us in the morning, and cheer and gladden
our hearts in all our ways; amid what fragrance we live,
dropping from every leaf and every flower; what scenes of
delighted activity we move in! Through every sense, through
every inlet of gladness and joy, God is ever cheering, gladdening, delighting the heart of man, to draw forth its affections to
himself. Pre-eminently in the work of our Rledemption does
God force upon our notice the longings, and open to us the
fullness of a Father's heart. H-ere lie comes to us, with every
assurance of his love, even to an oath: "As I live," saith the
Lord, "I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked;" with
every entreaty of pity and of grief, even to the sorrows and
anguish of parental bereavement and brokenness of heart:
" My heart is turned within me, my repentings are kindled
together."  Nor are these assurances empty and unmeaning;
there is here no want of sincerity-no failure of ample provision for our acceptance-no mocking of our wretchedness. It
is not God who says, " Be ye warmled and be ye filled; go in
peace," and giveth nothing. His love is not in word, but in
deed; and to prove it he sent his Son into the world. HIe declared that in him " cldwelleth all the fullness of the Godhead
bodily," and has let us see, in his tears, his agonies, and his
love for us, what a God we have to deal with. Mark, my
hearers, what has been done, and for what. Rather than lose
forever fallen, ruined man, God has laid on the head of Jesus
the full weight of an atonement for a world-rather than lose




236            THE GOODNESS OF GOD
forever fallen, ruined man, Jesus has travailed in the greatness
of his strength, magnified the law, sustained the majesty of a
reigning God, unbarred the everlasting doors, and leveled
every obstacle to our return to life and to God. This he has
done, by bearing the wrath due to this world of rebellion.
And now, it is on this foundation that the overtures of forgiveness and the calls of entreaty are made to us-now it is
that we hear the voice of a reconciling and beseeching Godnow, from that cross, it breaks from the lips of him who has
the form, and countenance, and heart, and sympathies of God
manifest in the flesh; and thus it is that the mighty attraction
which binds the holy universe to the great Eternal, is brought,
in all its sweetness, and charms, and energy, to bear on the
heart of man.
V. Look at this tendency, as it is illustrated byfacts.
We do not suppose that the attractive influence of divine
goodness is the only means of leading sinners to repentance,
nor that its influence is ever unaccompanied by a sense of
obligation and of guilt. Still, no sinner probably ever would
be converted unless God were manifested to the mind, as a
God gracious and merciful. "There is forgiveness with thee,
that thou mayest be feared."  When God is shown to the sinner, reconciling the world unto himself; when he hears his
entreaties of tenderness, then, if ever, he awakens-then he
listens, and is won by love so great. What illustrations of
this have we while the Saviour was on the earth. I need only
turn you to his works of mercy among the lame and halt, the
blind and deaf. In how many hearts did he plant the dominion of his love, by these acts of kindness! Behold the woman
in the house of Simon. Look at the frowning Pharisee; but
did Jesus frown on the sinner for whom he designed to die?
did this sinner herself fear to approach the pure and spotless
Saviour?  Oh! she knew who it was; she knew what love
for sinners that was, which came "to seek and save that which
was lost."  And fearless, with a broken heart, "she washed
his feet with her tears, and wiped them with the hairs of her




DESIGNED TO RECLAIM.                 237
liead. On the day of Pentecost, the great design of the death'
of the Son of God was unfolded to his murderers; and three
thousand were won to contrition and love. Look, too, at the
father of the returning prodigal. While the lost, returning
child is yet a great way off, he runs, falls on his neck, and
kisses him; calls for the best robe, to be brought and put
upon him; commands the feast, the songs, and the joys of the
happy family. This, this is the image of divine love toward
us. And, if a doubt can remain of the love of God to the
guilty, I point you again to the chief of sinners. There, in the
paradise of God, an example to all that hereafter believe,
placed on one of heaven's highest thrones, and wearing one of
its brightest crowns. Saul of Tarsus is in heaven, uniting his
songs with the souls of those he murdered on earth. And no
guilty bosom need distrust the love and mercy of a redeeming
God.
It is this very influence that will form the tie that will bind
together the whole family of God in heaven and on earth.
And when the redeemed shall be assembled before the throne
above, they will feel the love of God their Saviour, still changing them into the same image, from glory to glory. While
they recount his blessings, they will still find that it is to a
sense of that love they owe the highest raptures of immortality. It will be the beaming kindness of him who sits upon
the throne, that will awake the highest transports of love and
praise in return; and it will be the reciprocation of this love,
among those who have fellowship with the Father, and his
Son, and with one another, that will cause the joy of heaven
to be full. It is that which will open those fountains, amid the
throne of God and the Lamb, and pour forth those rivers of
pleasure and fullness of joy at God's right hand forevermore.
Such, my dear hearers, is the influence with which God assails your hearts, to recover you from sin and death. He
leaves not his high and rightful authority over you, to a solitary influence, but he enforces that by the benefactions of a
God. Ite appeals not only to the most powerful spring of




238            THE GOODNESS OF GOD
human action, but presses that appeal even to the very last
vestige of human sensibility, leaving you not till he has tried
the last avenue that the direst depravity can shut against him.
To evince his kindness, and to perpetuate its attractive power,
to win your heart to himself, he has multiplied his blessings
from the moment of your being. He has given you blessings,
in their nature exactly fitted to draw your hearts to himself;
blessings, rich beyond all price, enough to fill and overwhelm
the soul with gratitude and praise. HIe has brought the same
moral influence to bear upon you, that has converted, and will
convert millions of our race, and that will bind together, and
bless forever his holy kingdom in all its harmonies and joys.
And now let me bring the subject to a personal application.
1. Some of you profess to have felt the influence of the love
of God your Saviour.  You have seen, in the blessings of
providence and grace, the God of mercy aiming to lead you
back from sin, and to draw you to himself. You have felt
the influence in your hearts. HIas love begotten love? In the
blessings which God has given you, have you discovered the
excellence and glory of his character, and have that excellence
and glory awakened and enthroned a new affection in your
heart? HIas this new affection, awakened by your perception
of the divine excellence, brought with it godly sorrow that
worketh repentance?  Have you felt the baseness of sin, as
committed against a God of such perfection? God is love;
and it is this character of God, seen through the gifts it imparts, that gives to repentance its relentings, and that thus
establishes within us, in its fullest efficacy, the principle of
new obedience. Is it thus with you? Then has the manifested
good will of God toward you, not been lost upon you-then
you have been brought to feel that attractive energy which
will fix your heart on the fountain of infinite and eternal
blessedness-then have you felt that influence that will bind
your soul to God, in sweet, and holy, and animated obedience
— then will you, under God's continued mercies of providence




DESIGNED TO RECLAIM.                 239
and grace, be changed into the same image, from glory to
glory-then will you rise to that world, where the blaze of his
glory will beam on your enraptured sight, and call forth from
your lips the song of the redeemed: "1Blessing, and honor,
and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the
throne, and unto the Lamb forever.
2. What dire depravity dwells in the heart of man.
How will you measure the strength of depravity in a moral
and accountable being?  How will you measure it in those
beings, who once stood before the throne of God, and looked
at his uncovered glories, and rose up in the hardihood of rebellion against it, and who now mutter execration and blasphemies against him? " According to what a man hath, and
not according to what he hath not," you judge of his guilt.
And now, what is the strength of that depravity which braves
defiance at all that influence which God lets in upon the heart
of the sinner. Tell me, 0 sinner, with the commands of God
pressed upon you by his kindness, with every sensibility of
your soul assailed by the glories of God, as they are brought
to your knowledge, and your experience, and home to your
heart by all the wonders of his grace —say, what other sinner
against God has such a heart as yours? Come, let us look at
this matter as it is. See in the agonizing Jesus what a God
you are dealing with-hear his entreaties-hear his accents,
more tender than angels use. Look on that heart of kindness;
how full, how ardent, how tender, how it heaves with emotion, how ready to break in its agony of affection for you;
look at your own heart, cold and hard as a rock-not one
tribute of affection-not one retuirn of gratefull obedience have
you rendered. And still you are determined not to render it.
Still, while all the love and mercy of God, and all the calls of
Jesus, heaven, hell, invite you; while that Saviour opens to
your view the heart of redeeming love, and tells you he desires nothing, he longs for nothing so much, as the return of
love to him; while all the attractions that bind angels to the
rapturous service of their God draw you, you resist; while




240            THE GOODNESS OF GOD
the full blaze of glory and blessedness falls on your heart, it
is shut against, and shielded against it, bent on sin and rebellion. My dear hearers, this is reality. Here you are amid
these efforts of eternal mercy to save you-thus averse to God,
thus desperate in sin, thus hardening the heart to adamant
against all the attractions and the charms of redeeming love.
Oh! ought not such a heart to relent? Is not here cause for
shame, and grief, and tears? Let this one thought, that you
have such a heart, break it.  Oh, come to-day, and bow in
ingenuous, holy contrition before thy God!
3. And now, my dear hearers, is there no one of you whom
I can invite and persuade to come back to the God against
whom you have sinned?  Have you not been ungrateful long
enough-long enough grieved and broken again and again
your Saviour's heart, and caused his tears to flow over you?
Fellow-sinner, God loves you as much as he says he does;
Jesus loves you as much as all his agonies for you testify —
and will you reject all the blessings of eternal mercy?-blessings which God is so anxious to bestow upon you; will you
still shut your heart against such a God and such a Saviour?
Come, then, and lie at the feet of injured love-come and
accept all that God longs to give you-pardon, grace, and
eternal glory. But if you will not, if you resolve still to disregard and despise these entreaties of God's eternal love, what
agonizing reflections, what a deep and awful perdition await
you. in hell, should you be summoned to the bar of judgment
-a despiser of all the love, and grace, and goodness of God
your Saviour! Oh! fellow-sinner, it would be enough to go
on in sin, and enter eternity in contempt of the high mandate
of God's eternal throne; but what will it be to break awav
from the arms, from the very bosom of redeeming love?-what
will it be to take the firm attitude of an unyielding rebel
against the God' of grace, and to meet your doom under the
indignation kindled by such ingratitude —what will it be to
reflect that you forced your way to the deepest hell, in despite
of all that the power of love and grace of a redeeming God




DESIGNED TO RECLAIM.                241
could do to save you? Can you bear such a doom; will you
hazard it another hour?  Oh! come ye who love not your
Saviour and give him these hearts, so cold, so hard against
him. This is his will-this the sincere and longing desire of
his love.'Tis love calling you to return love. It may be
done, and done now. Oh! set yourself to it; bring before
you the glories of a perfect God, and stir up your heart to the
heaven-preparing affection. Look, think, meditate till you
can love.  God's authority commands, his glories attract;
heaven, with its crowns of life, invites; mercy weeps over
you; no mother's tears ever fell so tender o'er a dying child;
Jesus that died once for you, and could die again to save you,
stands, and knocks, and waits, and pleads, "till his locks are
wet with the drops of the night;" and this to melt that heart of
stone, and draw forth its affections to your God. Oh! then
love him-love God; love that being whom angels love, and
whose love shall be even more welcome than theirs; then with
them you shall have fellowship with him; then, not hell,
where his wrath burneth, but the heaven of his glory, shall
be your final, your eternal home-there you shall dwell, bearing his likeness-there partake in its purity, its bliss, its joys
— and eternity shall tell the rest, for what God has said, God
will cdo.
Oh! thou prodigal from thy heavenly Father's house —thou
lost child of his love-come back —come back to his arms of
mercy-to the paradise of his glory-as thy eternal home.
Heaven, in new songs, shall tell you its joys; angels, and the
redeemed together, shall welcome your return; and God shall
approve and heighten the joy, saying, "My son was dead, and
is alive again, was lost and is found."
Vol. I.-11                            16




XVIII.
PARDONING MERCY IS ABUN5DANT.
ISAIAH lv. 7.
"Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and
let him return unto the Lord, and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God,
for he will abundantly pardon. For my thoughts are not your thoughts, neither
are your ways my ways, saith the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than
the earth, so are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than your
thoughts."
IF there be any one perfection of God, the reality of which
he forces upon huan nan belief, it is that of his pardoning mercy.
He is said to be rich in mercy-plenteous in mercy-abundant in mercy. Ilis mercy is said to be great unto the heavens,
and great above the heavens.  HIe delighteth in mercy-he
keepeth mercy for thousands.  His mercy endureth forever.
But our text not only magnifies the mercy of God, but, as if
to meet every doubt and every difficulty of unbelief, exalts it
above all human conception.  The prophet, or rather God by
his prophet, here sets at naught all human reasoning on the
subject-as if he had said, your thoughts are gloomy thoughts;
your ways are marked by an imperfect, stinted benevolence
at best. You think a few offences may be forgiven, and your
way is at most to forgive seven times.  You think small
offences may be overlooked-sins of inadvertence and surprise,
sins of no peculiar aggravation, sins of infirmity, and sins that
do no great harm in the world. But saith God, " My thoughts
are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith
the Lord.  For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so
are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than




PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT.              243
your thoughts. Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man his thoughts: and let him return unto the Lord,
and he will have mercy upon him; and to our God for he will
abundantly pardon."
The subject for our present consideration isThe abundance of God's pardoning mercy.
I remarkI. That the abundance of God's pardoning mercy is evinced
by the removal of the obstacles to its exercise.
It was not by annihilating sin-by scattering our iniquities
in the regions of oblivion with no evidence of the divine
abhorrence-no display of the divine justice against themthat the way is open for their remission. But God laid upon
his Son the iniquities of us all. He gave himself an offering
and a sacrifice to God. You may scrutinize with thorough
inspection every sterner attribute of the Godhead; you may
search for and discover the principles and designs of that law,
in comparison with the honor of which the universe of creatures is nothing; you may explore the interests of God's moral
kingdom, and survey them in their full magnitude as the designed expression of his unsullied glory; you may inquire what
saints and angels, and all the subjects of God's immense empire, will think, and how they will feel;-but you shall not find
an obstacle, you shall not be able to meet, or to invent, or to
suspect an objection, to the fullest exercise of mercy toward
the penitent sinner. Divine Omniscience saw them all, and
divine mercy, by atoning blood, has taken them all away.
II. The abundance of God's pardoning mercy may be argued
from his benevolence.
The goodness of God —i. e., his whole character, is. intent
on the promotion of the greatest good. When this end demands the punishment of sin, this goodness dictates it, and
in this consists what we call justice. When this end is
the pardon of the sinner, the same goodness dictates it, and
in this consists mercy. In whatever form or way the ends
of infinite benevolence can be promoted, the infinite be



944     PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT.
nevolence -of God will act for their promotion; the greater
the perfection which pertains to any one of these ends, the
more inherent value it has in itself, the greater its influence on the general good, and the more entirely remote it is
from impairing the general stock of happiness, the more intensely and effectually will infinite benevolence pursue it.
Such is precisely the end to be answered in the full pardon of
the penitent sinner. We have already seen how entirely remote the pardon of the penitent sinner is, from interfering
with the attributes of God, the honor of his law, and the good
of his kingdom. The highest gratification of God's benevolence here meets no obstruction. And look for a moment at
the ill desert of the sinner —at the fires that are kindled for his
eternal torment-at the glories which God has prepared to
shed upon him on his admission to his presence, and say what
greater blessing can God confer on a creature, than the pardon
which delivers from sin and hell, and exalts to holiness and
heaven? Look over that inventory of blessings which he bestowed on angels, and ask which so bespeaks the benevolence
of God. Look over the regions where the benevolence of God
lavishes its blessings, and say in what field are its riches so
illustriously disclosed, as in that which is blessed by the dispensations of pardoning mercy? Where is such a revenue of
glory to the Eternal, as proceeds from that multitude which no
man can number, redeemed out of "( all nations, and kindreds,
and people, and tongues 2" Thus, with every reason combining its influence to draw forth the full expression of divine
benevolence toward the penitent sinner, and with every obstruction cleared away, nothing can restrain it. It must flow
forth in a pure abundant stream of good upon its object. However the dispensations of good may be modified and restricted
by the perfections and designs of God toward other subjects of
his kingdom, he will meet the returning penitent with all the
intenseness and fullness of the benevolence of a God. This can
be the only limit of his abundant mercy, and if you would measure the:abundance of God's pardoning mercy to the penitent




PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT.               245
sinner, you must measure the infinite goodness of God, its ardor,
its strength-the whole dimensions of his moral perfection, when
concentrated upon a single object, with a purpose to bless.
III. The abundance of God's pardoning mercy may be
evinced from the riches of his forbearance and long-suffering.
Consider, first, the objects of the divine forbearance; a
world, our whole species in rebellion. Consider its design;
their repentance and salvation with eternal glory. For why
else do we not sink beneath the righteous stroke of his wrath,
or stand trembling in the horrors of despair. Consider its circumnstances; how easy for Omnipotence to break the thread
that holds us over the pit, and yet he spares us —he spares
sinners, while he regards them with all the abhorrence that is
due to sinh-le spares them, while he can glorify himself in
their instant and eternal destruction-he spares them, when in
the midst of great and repeated provocations, when, from the
very patience of God, they derive only hardihood in rebellion
-lle spares them that he may use every possible means for
their conversion and salvation. Having opened to them the
path of life, he has placed between himself and them, instead
of the flaming sword of justice which turns every way, Jesus
the Mediator, who opens the embrace of his mercy to the
guilty. HIe comes to them in his word and in his providence;
by the chastisements and the bounties of his hand; by every
moment's preservation; in the counsels and prayers and example of the pious; in visible displays of his eternal power
and Godhead, which meet the eye whenever they look on the
light of salvation, which illumines their path wherever they
go; by the heralds of the cross, who warn them night and day
with tears; in the opened gates of heaven, and the uncovered
mouth of the pit; in full displays of the beauty and glory and
sufficiency of an incarnate Saviour. Thus God comes to the
sinner, and thus he continues to come, till the shades of death
and hell close the day of his probation. And for what? Why
these efforts to bring to repentance, if he has no mercy for the
penitent? Is God thus good by mistake; does he do all this




246     PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT.
to bring sinners to repentance when there is no provision-no
mercy adequate to their pardon if they do repent?  Then
what becomes of his omniscience?  Is he thus good from
designs of unkindness-good only that sinners may abuse his
goodness and deserve a heavier doom? Then what becomes
of his sincerity and his truth? Is he thus good-thus intent
on the repentance of the sinner, when his mercy is exhausted
and the sinner abandoned as the victim of his justice? Then
why does not justice strike? If mercy despairs, why does
justice delay the execution of its victim? Is God thus good
to the sinner, and yet has he made him simply to damn
him?  Why, then, does he not damn him? In a word, is
God good enough to do all this to bring sinners to repentance; good enough thus to provide a Saviour, take away
every obstacle to their return, and pardon if they will repent; good enough to wait upon them and continue every
effort of mercy to secure their repentance, through years of
accumulated guilt, provocations without end,'and ingratitude
and abuse, unknown in hell itself, and yet not good enough to
pardon the sinner who will repent —do all this for him when
an obstinate rebel, and not forgive him when a humble penitent? God forbid. Every moment of his spared life proclaims a God ready to pardon. That abundance of mercy that
does all this for the sinner, when contemning God and treading underfoot the blood of his Son, will not despise a broken
and a contrite heart. Show me such a sinner, degraded as he
is by sin, enveloped in its ignominy, its shame, its guilt, its
desert of hell-contrite, penitent, ingenuously relenting for all,
and I show you the God of glory descending to that manaye, rather with him into these depths, to revive, to console, to
bless, and to save. God is the comforter of the wounded spirit.
God wipes away the tears of the penitent.:IV. The abundance of God's pardoning mercy is strikingly
illustrated in the mediation of Christ.
It is not simply the removal of obstacles to dispensing pardon, which we now consider, but rather the nature of these




PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT.               247z
obstacles, and the mears of their removal. The mere fact that
mercy could be shown, might well excite our admiration and
astonishment. But, when we think of the truth of God, it
is as the great mountains-of his holiness, it is holiness
that cannot look on sin, but with abhorrence-of his law,
heaven and earth shall pass, but one jot or one tittle
shall in nowise pass from  the law-his justice, its demands must be enforced, though it plunge a rebel world
into deepest perdition.  Does mercy, then, come to our
world in such circumstances? Is the simple fact proclaimed, that pardon can be granted, and the truth of God vindicated-the law of God be magnified, and made honorablethe justice of God be fully unfolded-the holiness of God be
converted into the smile of eternal favor —all the interests and
principles of God's moral kingdom upheld-yea, all the attributes of God be more impressively illustrated, than were the
punishment of sin inflicted on the guilty. Is this the way in
which God shows mercy-does mercy surmount difficulties
and obstacles like these-does it force its way to our guilty
world, through every barrier which the truth, the holiness and
justice,law and kingdom of God could interpose? Instead of dishonoring God, of tarnishing a single attribute, does it not shed
a richer glory on them all, and triumph still over their brightening glories, in our eternal redemption?-Such is the length
and breadth, and height, and depth, of the mercy of our God.
Surely it will open its widest embrace to the sinner who will
make it his refuge. Surely such mercy will exhaust the full
treasures of its love upon the sinner who makes application
for them.
But how, or by whom, has this vast work been accomplished?. There is not one of our fellow-mortals, from Adam
to the present generation, that does not deserve the wrath of
God for his own sins. Whlo, through the whole extent of uni —
versal being, can interpose-satisfy the law of God- and
avert the fearful stroke of justice from a guilty world. The
highest angels are bound to the extent of every power, to obey



248     PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT.
the law we have broken, and can do no service for another.
Who, then, shall turn aside, and bend, as it were, the unchangeable attributes of God to the sinner's wants; who shall intercept the incurred penalties of God's broken law, and yet magnify it; who shall uphold the throne of eternal justice, and
yet transform it into a throne of mercy? WVhen no man could
redeem his brother, God himself found a ransom. When none
among the angels around his throne could purchase peace for
guilty men, he whom all the angels of God worship, said:
"Lo I come to do thy will, O God." When no being whom
God had formed could make ample expiation, then did the
Lord of hosts say, "Awake, O sword, against the man that
is my fellow." The plan devised and revealed, all heaven
adored with wonder and joy. With prying scrutiny, angels
labored to learn the magnitude and mystery of the great design. And from the first sin of man the revelation was unfolding its certainty and its blessings, and though man can overlook and disregard it, it stands first among the counsels of the
eternal Godhead, in every exhibition of the divine purposes.
"In the fullness of time, God manifest in the flesh, descended
to earth in vailed majesty." He spent a life marked by the
lowest degradation and severest sufferings, till lie finished it
on the cross. There the Father put into his hand the cup of
trembling, that he might drink it to its lowest dregs. There
the arrows of wrath, the poison whereof drank up his spirit,
fastened in him. There he laid the full burden of wrath due to
us on the head of the innocent sufferer, and witnessed all his
bitterness, and agonies, and tears, when he cried, " My God!
my God! why hast thou forsaken me!" There the beloved
Son of God suffered from his Father's hand, till he exclaimed,
"It is finished!" bowed his head, and gave up the Ghost.
Bursting away from the chains of death, he arose from the
dead, and ascended to his appointed throne. And now he is
the first and the last, who was dead and is alive again, ever
liveth to make intercession for us, and is able to save to the
uttermost all who come unto God by him. Such is the mercy




PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT.              249
of our God-mercy provided at such a price-mercy which
makes no compromise, no surrender of the attributes of God,
but gives them a brighter radiance-mercy which unvails the
whole Deity, in fullest grandeur and brightest splendor —
mercy, beyond a doubt, which can pardon, which can save
and bless forever the penitent, though the vilest rebel against
the God of mercy.
Did time permit, I might here still farther exhibit the riches
of divine mercy in many bright examples. Our whole race
have needed it, and thousands and millions have obtained it.
I might point you to Adam, Noah, Abraham, Moses, David,
and all the patriarchs and prophets, the penitent multitudes to
whom John the Baptist preached, the apostles and disciples
of our Lord, the dying thief, the murderers of the Lord of
glory, all believers from that day to this, and that countless
multitude whom John saw redeemed from everlasting destruction, and assembled before the throne of God and the Lamb.
I might point you to all who shall at last sit down amid the
glories of that world, to all their glory and all their blessedness throughout the coming ages of eternity, as the gift of
God's abundant mercy. And, if a doubt could yet enter the
mind, I might point you to the chief of sinners, placed on the
highest throne, and wearing the brightest crown among the
saved, as an eternal monument of God's mercy. Yes, Saul
of Tarsus is in heaven, and let not a doubt pervade a guilty
bosom on earth, whether God will abundantly pardon a returning penitent.
1. How important to man i S.
1. How important to man is divine revelation!
Not necessacry, indeed, because man could not, but important,
and even necessary in one sense, because without it he would
not have discovered the mercy of God. The mere light of
nature would be enough to bring to every mind the overwhelming conviction of his own sinfulness. But to the de11*




250-     PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT.
cision of that question on which our happiness here so much
depends, and on which all our hopes for eternity depend, viz.,
whet/her God: willforgzve anaz accept the sinner, no light but a
light from heaven would in fact ever conduct us. Reason,
indeed, could tell us, that God is good-our very experience of his goodness might force us to believe in this perfection of God. But the inquiry would still remain, how will
that goodness, which confers on us its blessings during this
period of probation, treat us when summoned into eternity?
What will the principles of moral government-what will the
interests of God's moral kingdom-what will the attributes of
a holy and just God demand in that awful hour? That sin be
pardoned, or that sin be punished? Plainly the latter. And
if God's overflowing kindness to us here would furnish some
faint intimation of his mercy-yet how inadequate to assure,
to sustain a dying sinner! With no instance of actual forgiveness, with no declaration of God that he will forgive, with
the burden of conscious guilt upon us, with no possible conception of any expedient by which God could show mercy,
we should be conducted only to a fearful looking for of judgment and fiery indignation. In this midnight of gloom and
terror, all our research and all our reasoning would leave us;
and back again to this midnight, from the light which beams
on us from the gospel of God, would the infidel conduct us.
Let him go, if he will, into all this darkness, and dwell amid
all these terrors. Let him go, if he will, to the bar of a spotless God on the footing of his own righteousness, and be tried
by his own innocence or merit. But give me hope in a God
of mercy. I am a sinner, and need his forgiveness. I am a
guilty, lost immortal. I need deliverance from a deserved
hell. Oh, hide not from me the abundant mercy of God in
Christ Jesus!
2. It is not less dishonorable and offensive to God to despair
of his mercy than to presume on his justice.
Does that sinner who, in quiet unconcern, defies the justice
of the Almighty, provoke God to come out in wrath against




PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT.              251
him, so does that sinner who despairs of his mercy. I know
there is something in the latter case to awaken our compassion,
and that almost forbids reproof. But has God revealed these
treasures of his mercy to produce despair, after all that he
has done to display that mercy-after he has concentrated, as
it were, every moral perfection of his character in this, and
unfolded it in its length and breadth?  Can he approve of
that unbelief which denies its sufficiency? Will he not deem
this as dishonorable to himself as the denial of any other
perfection? There is, indeed, no consolation for him who will
not renounce his sins, no remedy from despair in such a case.
But let none refuse to renounce sin because God will not show
mercy. Let him come and survey the dimensions of the mercy
of God-let him stand on the brink of this ocean. Behold,
God has taken away every obstacle to the exercise of mercy
toward a guilty world. Behold, infinite benevolence, with all
its intenseness, fixes on the penitent as its object, and as if it
had none other to bless. Behold, with what patience he waits
upon you, with what kindness he seeks to convert and save
you. Behold, what barriers divine mercy hath surmounted,
what a high and awful vindication it hath poured over all the
severer attributes of the Godhead. Behold it turning aside
from the guilty the defied penalties of the law, while upholding in all its firmness and glory the throne of the majesty in
the heavens, and from that very throne dispensing its gifts to
the rebellious. Behold him by whom all this was done. And
come, thou vilest of men-ye idolators, extortioners, murderers, adulterers, persecutors, assassins, blasphemers, return unto
the Lord, and no vengeance shall reach you. By repentance
and faith commit your polluted, guilty soul to God your Redeemer, and he will abundantly pardon. "For his thoughts
are not your thoughts, neither are your ways my ways, saith
the Lord. For as the heavens are higher than the earth, so
are my ways higher than your ways, and my thoughts than
your thoughts."
3. Let this subject remind Christians of their obligations.




2521    PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT.
Oh, my brethren, to the mercy of God in Christ, how great
are your obligations! When. you look back to the hole of the
pit whence you were digged, and retrace your long and wayward progress on the verge of eternal woe-when you turn
your view on the number of your sins, and the aggravations
of your guilt, and see that hell was your deserved portionwhen, in heaven, you shall see all this, and there, too, behold
the riches of that mercy that saved you-when the mystery
of redemption, as found in the deep counsels of the eternal
Godhead, shall be unfolded-when the satisfied justice and
holiness of God shall send forth a brighter and nobler radiance
than had the sentence of death been executed upon you-when
the light of heaven's day shall open all the intricacies of this
stupendous work, and the mercy that here beamed from that
cross of agony shall descend upon you from the throne of the
Lamb, and surround you with the glories of his presencewith what wonder, and gratitude, and joy will you swell the
notes of the everlasting song. To-day you commemorate this
mercy-these are the memorials of the body that was broken,
and the blood that was shed, that God might show you mercy.
Oh, admire and praise that here, which you shall admire and
praise in heaven. Cultivate here, and through all your pilgrimnage below, that spirit of humility, and gratitude, and devotion, that shall wake, in eternal song, " Worthy is the Lamb
that was slain, to receive power, and riches, and wisdom, and
strength, and honor, and glory, and blessing!"
See, too, your obligation to imitate this divine perfection.
"Be ye therefore merciful, even as your Father which is in
heaven is merciful;" " Blessed are the merciful, for they shall
obtain mercy;" "' He that showeth no mercy, shall have judgment without mercy."
4. The very foundation of confidence and peace to the penitent, is the most awful cause of alarm to the impenitent.
The one trusts in the mercy of God, and mercy to him is
the concentrated perfections of Jehovah, pledged to pardon, to
bless, and to save him. The other despises the mercy of God,




PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT.             253
and mercy despised, is the justice, holiness, and truth of God
-pledged to punish forever.
And now what shall I say to those who, by impenitence and
unbelief, abuse and reject the mercy of God in Christ Jesus.
There is not a sinner here to-day for whom pardoning mercy
has not been provided; to whom it has not been offered from
the morning of life; not one on whom the God of mercy has
not looked with infinite pity, and to whom he has not addressed
his calls and his offers. But, oh, how have they been received?
How has the plan of salvation through the mercy of God been
treated by you   W Vhat if God, my dear hearers, has removed
every obstacle which your own guilt and which his attributes opposed to your pardon and salvation? What if his
infinite benevolence has longed to fix its tenderest affections
upon you? What if he has followed you with entreaties, and
what if Jesus has died on the accursed tree, and deliverance
from hell and an admittance to heaven have been urged upon
your acceptance? What has all this been to you-what are you
the better in character or condition —what have you donewhat do you now do, but despise and reject it all? But remember that all this provision of mercy has given new sanctions to the law of God, and imparted a higher and more awful
luster to his justice. The very perfections of God, which form
a canopy of defense around the head of the believer, fix
and necessitate the doom of the despiser of mercy, and these
holy and everlasting attributes of God will pour down upon
him a measure of wrath, great like the mercy abused. Oh,
what will you think of the despised mercy of God, when the
avenging moment comes; when these accents of God's compassion, that now fall on your senseless heart, shall be changed
for the rolling thunders of hastening vengeance? Oh, while
the day of mercy shines, will you not hear? Is there nothing
in that mercy of God, which is above the heavens, to invite;
is there nothing in all your past contempt and ingratitude, to
soften to contrition; is there nothing in the wonders of redeeming love, nothing in Jesus, nothing in all his lone agonies for




254     PARDONING MERCY IS ABUNDANT.
you, nothing in all his glory? Oh!'tis enough to break a
heart of stone. Shall it not touch yours? Will you not come
and lie at the feet of this injured Saviourt? Will you not partake of the blessings of God's eternal mercy? Then do not
abuse it-despise it-still let these calls pass unheeded. But
I leave you with this question, and think of it when you go
from this sanctuary! What degree of punishment must be
your portion, if you are summoned to judgment as a despiser
of God's abundant mercy 




XIX.
THE TERROR  OF THE LORD  PERSUASIVE.
2 CORINTHIANs v. 11.
" Knowing therefore the terror of the Lord, we persuade men."
OF all kinds of preaching there is perhaps none so unpopular-none, the propriety of which is so frequently deniednone, the salutary influence of which is so imperfectly understood-as what is commonly termed preaching terror.
The fact that the word of God abounds in the denunciations
of his wrath against sin, decides, beyond a moment's debate,
that some highly important end is the design of these awful
threatenings. To ascertain this end is an inquiry of deep
interest to beings who are to live under the government of
God and feel its influence forever.
To this subject the apostle directs our attention in the text.' I:nowing therefore the terror of the Lord, we persuade men"
-as if he had said, knowing the fearful denunciations of God
against sin, we apprise men of their exposure to his wrath,
that by this means we may persuade them to comply with the
terms of salvation, and thus escape the threatened doom.
The truth to which your attention is to be directed is, that —
Tie design, and the practical tendency of the threatenings of
God is to persuade men to holy obedience.
I. That such is the design of the divine threatenings, will
appear1. If we consider them as a measure of God's moral government.
These threatenings are surely designed for some purpose.




256  THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE.
They are not merely empty threats, intended to intimidate
but never to be executed. The only possible light in which
they can be regarded, as consistent with the character of the
God who makes them, is, as a measure of moral government,
designed to secure the salutary effects of that government
upon its' subjects. This is apparent on the very face of them.
They are annexed to the laws of that government, and their
execution is connected only with the violation of its laws. We
have, therefore, the same evidence that the threatenings of
God are designed to prevent sin-i. e., to produce holy obedience, as we have that the penalty of the civil law against
murder is designed to prevent that crime.
Besides, it is essential to the very nature of a moral government that its authority be supported by threatened punishment. Without it, there is nothing to show that its claims
are to be enforced; nothing to show that it may not be violated with impunity; and, of course, nothing to show that the
laws of the government do not as truly allow of disobedience
as require obedience. Let God, then, repeal the sanction of
threatened punishment, and the laws of his government are a
mere nonentity, and rebellion is legalized from one end of his
dominions to the other.  Just so certain, then, as God has
established a moral government over men, and required their
obedience, just so certain is it that his threatenings are designed to produce such obedience.
2. This design is expressly declared.
Probably the most awful manifestation of the majesty and
terrors of God ever witnessed by man in this world, was made
at the giving of the law on Miount Sinai. Here God descended
in the midst of thunderings and lightnings. Here he lifted
his mighty voice in the promnulgation of his law, speaking out
of the midst of the fire, and of the cloud, and of the thick darkness, and spreading awe and dismay through the thousands of
Israel.  "And the people said to Moses, Speak thou with us,
and we will hear, but let not God speak with us, lest we die."
"' For who of all flesh hath heard the voice of the living God




THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 257
speaking out of the fire as we have, and lived?" Even Moses
exceedingly feared and quaked. Andwhy was all this? The
inspired historian tells us: " That his fear may be before your
faces, that ye sin not."  It was, by fear and trembling and dismay, to make an abiding impression of the majesty and terror
of that God who claimed their obedience.
Similar impression was designed at the reading of the law
at Mount Ebal and MIount Gerizim. There, by divine command, the Levites read the law in specific enactments, saying, " Cursed be the man that maketh any graven or molten
image;" " Cursed be he that setteth light by his father or
his mother;"" Cursed be he that confirmeth not all the words
of this law to do them;" and all the people said Amen. Who
can doubt that the design of God was to make a deep impression upon the minds of men of the awful curse denounced
against sin?
3. The same thing appears from the commission of the Lord
Jesus to the preachers of his gospel.
The sum of that commission is to declare, " He that believeth and is baptized, shall be saved, but he that believeth not
shall be damned." It is, therefore, the obvious design of the
Author of the gospel-it is essential to the execution of their
high commission-that ministers of the gospel preach the
damnation of that gospel to him that believeth not. If any
say that the Lord Jesus designed or expected that men would
obey his gospel without hearing its awful denunciations of
wrath, let them say it; if it be said that such denunciations
are mere empty threats to augment our wretchedness, let it
be said; but believe it, who can, in view of the character of
him who is the Author of our salvation?
4. From facts.
Who was ever brought to obey the gospel without the influence of the divine threatenings? I do not now allude to the
degree of this influence, but to the fact that it has been felt
sufficiently to produce practical results. I know there are
those who persuade themselves that the divine goodness
17




258  THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE.
toward them has been the exclusive means of their conversion. No doubt of its efficacy. But in what does it consist?
Chiefly in a sense of their ingratitude, and of their rich desert
of damnation for that ingratitude.  But are they quite sure
that such would have been its influence had they never heard
of the wrath of God against sin? In this respect they may be
mistaken. I ask, therefore, for one solitary decisive instance
of conversion, in which no influence of God's threatenings has
been felt. IHow is the fact in the recorded examples of the
inspired volume?  Look at the trembling jailor falling down
before Paul and Silas; look at the trembling and astonished
Saul of Tarsus; look at the three thousand pricked in the
heart, and hear from each the cry of deep emotion, TWhat shall
Ido? And now say, whether these men despised the terror
of the Lord, or felt it? The same gospel has produced the
same effects in every age. The terrors of guilt and of God
do, in a greater or less degree, impress the soul of all who
obey that gospel. And let the question be answered, whether
the gospel of God, so uniformly producing such effects, is not
designed to produce them?
I might appeal to the preaching of prophets and apostles;
yea, with greater evidence to the example of the Son of God
himself. Every reader of the Bible knows what frequent and
awful denunciations of the wrath of the Almighty are uttered
in this book, both by himself, and by all who have brought his
message to this guilty world. If any truth be apparent, it is
that this world is in rebellion against its Sovereign, and must
be awed back to its allegiance by his terrors. He who doubts,
therefore, the propriety or utility of God's denunciations of
wrath, may as well advise him to take back this part of the
Bible, or with his own sacrilegious hand draw the effacing
stroke over every line that utters such denunciations.
I proceed to showII. That the direct tendency of the divine threatenings is to
persuade men to obey the gospel.
That I may not be misapprehended, I would remark, that




THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE.  259
the divine threatenings have no tendency to persuade men to
obedience, viewed as denunciations of mere suffering.  Mere
suffering presented to the mind, and operating exclusively:on
our natural dread of it, cannot excite holy affections, nor
prompt to holy purposes. To tell a man that he is exposed to
the fires of hell, and call upon him to fix his eye singly upon
his doom, and, by anticipation, to realize its horrors, may disquiet him.  He may tremble and quake at the aspect of
menacing Deity, though he knows not and thinks not of the
why and the wherefore of his anger. But all this, so far from
tending to excite holy affection in the cold heart of man, tends
only to harden in despair, or awaken more violent enmity
against the God who threatens.
But if mere terror has no tendency to soften the heart into
love-if its direct tendency is to produce a recoil in the affections-how is it, then, that the threatenings of God have a
tendency to subdue the heart into cheerful submission to his
will?
I answer1. By the solemn alternative which they reveal to man, as
it tends to weaken his earthly attachments.
Now, although the mere disclosure of this alternative, of
obedience or death eternal, will never of itself convert the
sinner, yet no sinner will ever be converted without it. God
may unfold to men his claims and their obligations, in the
form of mere statement; he may tell them  ever so plainly
what they ought to be, and what he requires them to be, and
by the naked influence of authority urge their compliance,
but to beings desperately bent on their own selfish gratification, all this will be utterly ineffectual. The effect will be
just what that of human laws without penalty, would be
upon the most hardened malefactors. To beings supremely
selfish, an appeal must be made to some other principle to
counteract and subdue the selfish principle. Such a principle
there is in man-a principle of self-love, or regard to happiness. Every sentient being desires happiness, and to this prin



260  THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE.
ciple, when man has chosen the wrong object as the source of
happiness, the appeal must be made to lead him to renounce
that choice. Sinners who have taken up a firm and determined purpose of revolt from God, for the sake of worldly
good, must see that if they will take that for their portion in
this life, they must have eternal torment for their portion in
the next. They must see that they have interests at stake,
compared with which earthly good deserves not to be named
or thought of. Their sensibilities to these interests must be
roused sufficiently to invest earthly joys with an insignificance
or a gloom, sufficiently to arrest their infatuated career of rebellion —to force upon them the conviction of their folly, by
making them think of its consequences, or all is desperation.
To produce this state of mind, the denunciations of divine
wrath directly tend. If to array the terrors of the Almighty
against the sinner-if to lay before him the horrors of the impending death, and the woes of a ruined eternity, will not
lead him to ponder the path of his feet-if this will not weaken
the ardor of earthly attachments, and check the ardor of
earthly pursuits, nothing can. These, at any rate, are enough
to do it. Thus, although the mere fear of suffering is not
enough to excite holy affections, it is enough to bring him to
that state where purer and higher motives may reach him.
It is enough to sink, in his estimation, the objects of sense to
their comparative worthlessness; and even to excite a disgust
and a loathing for objects fraught with such fearful ruin in
the end. It is enough to awaken his sensibilities to the amazing interests of futurity, and force him to sober meditation
and thoughtfulness-a point to which he would never come,
without the constraining influence of a threatened damnation.
2. The terrors of the Lord also enforce the necessity of compliance with the terms of salvation.
There is, perhaps, no part of the influence which God uses
in the conversion of sinners, which is more indispensable than
this. Depraved man —in love with the world, and in love with
sin-will continue his chosen way, till some dire necessity of




THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE.  261:
escape be shown to him. And even then he will employ his
ingenuity, and rely on the authority, not of reason, but of his
own wishes to determine the way of escape, in contempt of
that which God has pointed out. It is this hope of impunity,
under the sound of God's denunciations of wrath, which holds
this guilty world in its awful death-like slumbers. It is only
when the sinner sees that the threatenings of God cannot be
defied with safety, and that every solemn utterance of his
wrath will be carried into execution, and that there is none
other way of escape than that to which his own heart is desperately opposed, that he begins to stand in awe of his almighty
Sovereign. And it is in the threatenings of the infinite God,
that he sees his helpless necessity of submitting to the terms
of God. He sees a God of omnipotence, able to execute his
wrath to the uttermost-a God, whose truth binds him to the
full execution of its every announcement a God, whose holiness kindles into a fire of indignation at the very approach of
iniquity-a God, whose justice is pledged to uphold his law,
his government, his throne, though worlds sink beneath the
strokes of his wrath. It is such a God who threatens him; and
by his threatenings he is driven to abandon all hope in sin.
Such a God will not alter the terms of mercy, nor remit the:
curse without compliance. Thus the sinner is forced to renounce his vain conceits and expectations of safety, to abandon his refuges of lies, and to feel that there is no peace to the
wicked while God reigns —thus he is cut off from all selfdependence, made to relinquish every proud attempt at helping himself, and of purchasing the favor of God by his own
doings; for, in the denunciations of God, he sees his helpless
necessity of being lost, or of submitting to his terms of mercy.
Now, if ever, he hastens to the appointed refuge. God's immutable decree, "Repent or perish, believe or be damned,"
ends all his dreams, and scatters all his hopes.
3. It is only by the divine threatenings that the evil of sin,
as God esteems it, can be shown to the sinner.
The evil of sin must be learned from God's estimate of it.




262  THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE.
Man, the sinner himself, is not a safe judge on this question.
The grand question is, what does the Lawgiver think of it?
What is: his estimate-what the measure of his abhorrence,
who holds our being and our happiness at his disposal? Now,
what should we think of God's estimate of sin, had he annexed
no penalty to transgression, or withheld all penalty after transgression?2 The sinner by transgression openly sets at naught
the claims of God; he proclaims the demands of God for his
obedience to be unworthy of regard; and God, by withdrawing the threatened penalty, sanctions that proclamation, and
acquiesces in the practical declaration of the sinner, that his
law is unworthy of obedience, and that sin neither provokes
his disapprobation nor deserves his wrath. Punishment is a
manifestation of the Lawgiver, the measure of his abhorrence
of sin, the proof of the claim of his law, and seal of its inviolability. Without it that claim would be as though it were not,
and rebellion be legalized from one end of his dominion to the
other.: It is the only medium by which God can bring home
to the:sinner a conviction of his abhorrence of sin. The law
might remain in the form of requisition or advice, but nothing
appears to show that it is not, in God's estimation, just as well
to transgress as to obey it. Of what, then, shall the sinner
repent? Nothing appears from the government which God
administers to show that transgression calls for repentance
any more than obedience itself. Without the divine threatenings, therefore, the sinner can never be made to see the evil
of sin, and of course can never repent of it as an evil. In the
very nature of things, repentance under the government of
God is out of the question. On the other hand, the threatenings of God unavoidably bring to the mind of the sinner who
looks at them the inquiry,for what are these fearful terrors
pointed against me? Is there not a cause-has no evil been
done —by which a righteous God is provoked 2 Is there not
something in sin which justifies a perfect God in enforcing its
prohibition under such dread sanctions of his wrath?  And
the answer is at hand. There is that in sin which makes the




THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE.  263
threatening just. That infinite Being whose glories enrapture
all heaven, I have despised; that authority of God, by which
alone his supremacy and his right to govern can be sustained,
I have trampled underfoot; that law of God which is holy,
just and good, and the appointed means of blessing his holy
kingdom, I have violated; all my obligations, which result
from creating and preserving and redeeming goodness, I have
slighted; and all the designs of a perfect God to glorify himself and impart blessedness to his holy universe, I have opposed
and labored to defeat; and all the evil, the misery, which his
sentient creation, my little self excepted, can endure, I have
consented should exist. In heart, I have been willing to mar
every design of a perfect God-to destroy his infinite blessedness, and to fill the universe with wailing and woe; and for
this I deserve his wrath, and for this he threatens it. It is
with me, as such a rebel-a rebel against God with such a
heart-with such a principle of action, that God is displeased,
and as much displeased as his awful threatenings say he is.
Thus it is by means of these threatenings that the sinner is
made to see the evil of sin-the measure of God's disapprobation of it, as manifested in these threatenings. If he would
know that sin is an evil, let him ask how God regards it; if
he would know how God regards it, let him ask the fires
which his wrath kindles as its punishment. Conceal the
threatenings of God, and thus prevent the sinner from seeing
how God regards it, and he would never see the evil —the ill
desert of sin, nor find any thing to repent of in sin. But open
clearly to his inspection the import and nature of these threatenings, and let them tell how God feels toward sin, and nothing so powerfully tends to show him his ill desert-to show
him to himself as God sees him, and to awaken the relentings,
and the grief and the holy purposes of godly repentance.
4. The divine threatenings reveal the character of God in
its glory and excellence.
This they do as they reveal his disapprobation —the full
measure of his abhorrence of sin. This is God's holiness, and




264  THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE.
his holiness is pre-eminently his glory. As God loves the
happiness of his creatures, he loves their virtue or holinesstheir moral excellence and perfection as the means, and only
means of their perfect happiness. As he loves their holiness,
their moral perfection, he abhors sin. God's abhorrence of
sin, then, is the exact measure of his benevolence, his goodness, his love of his creatures. If, then, the sinner is ever to
know God as he is-his goodness, his benevolence, and love to
his creatures —he must see him as he abhors sin, the destruction of all good in the universe. If we would see God in his
abhorrence of sin, we must see him through the medium of
his threatenings. HIere we may see with what intensity of
will and affection God seeks the virtue, the holiness, as the
means of the happiness of his moral creation. Nor is it conceivable, that that greatest, most enrapturing of all truths in
the universe of truth, THAT GOD IS LOVE, that God is a being
who, more than all things else, loves the holiness, and thus
the happiness of his creatures, should be so impressively presented to human apprehension-that the glory of God should
he so poured upon human thought, and human sensibility, in
such full-orbed splendor, as through the divine threatenings.
Here God's love for the happiness of his creatures may be
seen in his intense abhorrence of sin, which destroys that happiness. There is no other mode conceivable, in which God
can be seen as he is, and as all that he is-loved as he is, and
all that he is, as through this manifestation.
Some suppose that for man to be moved by the divine
threatenings, is to be moved by a mercenary influence; and
to act under it, is, of necessity, to act in a selfish manner. Oh,
how little such men know of God, and God's government! Let
the sinner look at that highest glory of God, in view of which
heaven's song makes heaven's pillars tremble, "Holy, holy,
holy, Lord God Almighty;" let him thus look and love, and
can his love be mercenary, or mean, or selfish? In kind, you
see it will, it must be the same which the effulgence of the
Deity awakens in the seraph's heart.




THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE.  265
5. The divine threatenings unfold the claims of God for the
sinner's obedience in all their pressure of obligation.
By these it is that the sinner is made to see, if he see at all,
who and what that God is with whom he has to do. God
comes out to the sinner with his claims, he unfolds his obligations to obedience, as these result from his own infinite perfections, from his high and rightful supremacy over the creatures
of his power, from the purity and excellence of his law, and
from the great designs of his moral government; and now, for
the single purpose of securing the ascendency of these claims
and these obligations in the heart of man, he makes known
the tremendous alternative of submission or death. Here are
none of the decrees and threats of self-willed despotism, fixed
upon its own selfish ends, at the sacrifice of all good to those
whom it has power to torment. The denunciations of God,
properly understood, bring no such thought to the mind of
the sinner. They are simply the enforcement of the obligations of eternal righteousness. Their language to the sinner,
under a full discovery of the claims of the Most High, is, "Submit to these righteous claims of a perfect God, or die." It is
the direct tendency of these threatenings, not merely to make
the sinner tremble, but at the very moment of excited fears
of the curse, to array before him his duty, and to bring before
him all its obligations, and all its motives. They turn his eye
downward upon the pit and its fires, and at the same instant
raise and fix it upon God in all the authority of his supremacy,
and in all the immutability and equity of his claims. He is
made to see how perfect, how holy, how just, how unchangeable are the claims which a righteous God enforces by such
awful sanctions. God, in all his majesty and perfection, is
brought into nearer contact with the sinner than it is possible
to conceive he should be by any other means. By the terrors
of the Lord, all the sensibilities of his nature are appealed to,
and he is made to stop in his career of rebellion, because his
steps take hold on hell; and, by precisely the same means, he
is in this attitude made to look upward, and to look intently,
Vol. t.-12




266   THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE.
to the great reality of a living and a reigning God; and while
he looks, all the majesty, and all the loveliness, and all the
glory of God are brought to bear upon his conscience and his
heart. Thus he sees what God is-how God feels toward him,
and how he ought to feel toward God. Thus he is made to
feel —if by any means he can be made to feel-the full pressure of his obligations to obedience; thus the whole moral
influence of God's moral administration is concentrated and
poured upon his heart; and thus by the terror of the Lord, he
is persuaded to obey him.
6. The efficacy of the divine threatenings will still farther
appear, if we reflect that they are not absolute, but conditional.
Such is the constitution of the human mind, such the condition of man as a sinner, that absolute threatenings would
reach him with no salutary influence whatever. To know the
terrors of the Lord, and that there is no way of escape, would
only awaken his dread and his enmity toward the Being whom
he is commanded to love. He might sometimes look toward
Godl, as an irreconcilable Lawgiver and Judge, but seeing him
only in the severities of frowning majesty, he would find no
place in his heart, either for love or confidence. Instead of
entering with hope on the path of obedience, he would sit still
in the sullenness of despair.
Widely different from this has the mercy of God made our
condition. " God is in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself." Does he denounce against us the fearful penalty of his
violated law?  That "law is our schoolmaster to bring us to
Christ."  Does he denounce the deeper curses of a despised
gospel? It is "to save by fear." True it is, and true it ought
to be, that if the sinner resolve to go on in his iniquity there
is enough to make his heart " meditate terror." On that path
God sheds his heaviest frowns —that way of the sinner God
infests with all the horrors of anticipated vengeance. And it
is right and best that it should be so; for if that will not check
the rebel's wayward step, what will? But is there no hope?




THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE.  267
"Let the wicked forsake his way, and the unrighteous man
his thoughts: and let him return unto the Lord, and he will
have mercy upon him; and to our God for he will abundantly
pardon." L6t the sinner only think of turning back from the
ruin that awaits him; let him only stop and listen to the
entreaties that call him to life; and that moment God puts on
the winning countenance of invitation, and throws wide the
embrace of his friendship. And now, let it be told what must
be the influence of the threatened wrath upon one in circumstances like these. With heaven before him, with an inviting God and Saviour welcoming him to the arms of his mercy,
will not an opening hell behind him quicken the footsteps of
his return. Let it be supposed that his sensibilities are awake,
before the appalling severities of the coming wrath; and now,
will not the sight of his great Deliverer awaken his gratitude
and inspire him with confidence?  Can he see his inevitable
doom on the one hand, and God his Saviour waiting to be
gracious on the other, and not trust him? Surely the terrors
of the Lord, if any thing can do it, must make him welcome
the mercy of the Lord, and bring him, as a humble, grateful,
trusting penitent, to the feet of the Saviour.
On the other hand, you may set before the sinner all the
compassion of God, and the tenderness of redeeming love;
you may call him with all the expostulation and entreaty of
divine invitation; you may point him to the wounds and the
agonies and death of Jesus, but if you do not show him that
he is lost, he will never embrace a Saviour. Why should he?
What is all this to one who has no concern with it?  If the
sinner be not lost, the compassion which God has revealed in
the gospel is not for him; the entreaties of the gospel are not
addressed to him; the tenderness and love and mercy of the
Saviour are not toward him. There is not a particle of influence in all this that can reach or touch him. You may call
him to accept of the great salvation, but his exposure to an
opening hell must move him or he will never stir. The expected wrath of God must endear to him the compassion and




268 THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE.
the tenderness and the mercy of God, or all the melting,
mighty efficacy of gospel grace will fall upon his heart as upon
the cold rock of the desert.
REMARK S.
1. Our subject furnishes an important topic of self-examination-viz., what has been the influence of the divine threatenings upon us?
The question is not merely whether we have awakened to
see our exposure to wrath, and even trembled at the expectation and the fear of its actual execution. All this may have
been felt-our disquietude and fears may have continued long,
and may have spoiled, during its continuance, all our earthly
joys-and we be none the better for it. The first point to be
settled is, have we felt the power of the divine threatenings at
all  And the next is, have they produced their true practical effects? Have they so affected us as to spoil the world of
its charms, as our chief object of pursuit, and made the conviction practical, that a man gains nothing by gaining the whole
world and losing his own soul? Have they brought home to
our practical feelings our urgent, dying necessity, of submission to the terms of mercy-so shown us the evil of sin-so
pressed upon us our obligations, and so arrayed before us the
motives and persuasives-the whole moral influence of the
gospel-as to bring us actually to obey the gospel? Have we,
through God's threatenings, seen God-God as he is? Has
their actual result been repentance for sin, faith in the Saviour,
love to God, and a holy purpose of consecration to his service? If not, our religion is wholly selfish and hollow at heart.
If not-no matter what may have been our fears and distresses
-no matter what relief from these fears and distresses we may
have experienced-the divine threatenings have not had their
proper influence on us, and we are yet "in the gall of bitterness and in the bond of iniquity."
2. Saints, as well as sinners, ought to derive practical benefit
from the divine threatenings.




THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE. 269
Some there are who, supposing that they have fled to the
appointed refuge, imagine that they have no concern with the
terrors of God, though they are very willing, and often peculiarly pleased with this sort of preaching for others' sake. But
why has this sort of preaching no application to them?  Because they are Christians, and therefore safe from the wrath
of God? That is much to be doubted, if they find the threatenings of God have no influence upon them. Be it so, however, that just so far as they have evidence that they are Christians, so far the probability is that they will not feel the actual
execution of God's threatenings. But is there nothing in these
threatenings of salutary influence on the Christian a Has he
no need to see and to feel more of the vanity of the world, as
it is shown in contrast with everlasting burnings? Has he no
need to feel more of the necessity of persevering in holy obedience? Has he no need to see more and more of the evil of
sin-more and more of his obligations to God; and more and
more of all that moral influence which results wholly from his
guilt and ruin as a sinner? Hte cannot doubt it. Let him, then,
see it, and feel it, more and more, whenever the terrors of God
are arrayed before him. Let him remember that "lie that
endureth to the end shall be saved"-that if any man draws
back, he draws back unto perdition-that unless he keep
under his body, and bring it into subjection, he too shall be
a cast-away. Let him often think of that God " who is able
to destroy both soul and body in hell." I tell you, Christian,
even your heart needs this influence, and it is a sad mark
against you, if you are not willing to feel it.
3. We see why God threatens sin with eternal punishment.
His threatenings are designed to show-and to answer
their end, they must show —what God is. To show what
God is, they mUSt show the measure of his disapprobation
of sin-his holiness.  Any other threatenings would tell lies
concerning God. They would exhibit him as he is not.
God hates sin as much as his awful threatenings say he
does. And they who deny it, deny the God of heaven.




270 THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE.
They deny his holiness-his real abhorrence of sin. They exhibit, of course, a-false God to the human mind-a God who
does not abhor sin, as it ought to be abhorred, and as a perfect
God must abhor it.  Sin is the supreme evil; and a God who
does not so regard it, is not a God who regards things as they
are, and might as well not regard it as an evil at all. Hle is
worthy of no confidence, nor respect. He is a God without
principle, a God without character. Such a God on the throne
of the universe, and every angel would drop his harp-every
devil shout in ecstasy. The bands of God's moral dominion
would be broken, the pillars of eternal justice would fall, and
heaven fall with them; the fires of hell burst forth unchecked,
and rebellion stand triumphant on the ruins. Such is the
Universalist's God. Let him trust him, if he dare! Such is
not the God of heaven. Such is not my God. If I know my
own heart, I love a God so holy, as to abhor sin as much as
his awful threatenings say he does. That there is such a God,
is the joy of the holy universe. In his hands, and only in his,
all is safe.
4. The object of preaching terror, is not to agitate with
alarm.
Let me not be misunderstood. I do not say, that the object
is not to produce alarm in some degree-even that salutary
dread of wrath, which shall be necessary to induce the sinner
at once to flee from it. But I mean, that it is not as some
imagine, so to insulate the mind's view of the wrath of God;
as to exclude all thoughts of his mercy-so to turn the eye
down the precipice of damnation, that nothing but its terrors
can be seen. This, instead of being useful or salutary, is injurious, and even fatal. The threatenings of God are neither
designed nor fitted to produce this effect. They are the threatenings of a God who is just, but who is merciful also; and they
are promulged, pre-eminently, to accomplish the design of his
mercy. They are not absolute, but conditional-not fitted to
take away hope, but to lead the sinner to lay hold on the hope
set before him. Suppose one in a prison, whose walls and




THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE.  271
fastnesses destroyed all hope of escape-suppose him surrounded.with beasts of prey, whose eyes flashed rage on him
as their helpless victim. It is easy to conceive, that he would
be agitated, convulsed, overwhelmed with terror. But suppose now these objects of fear are asleep —you see it would be
some mitigation of his emotions. Suppose now a door to his
prison —a door on the.latch-his relief is still greater. And
now, suppose the door stands open! How much would he be
frightened? Just enough to induce him not to stay another
moment in this place of danger, but instantly to flee from it.
So, fcllow-sinner, the wrath to which you are so fearfully
exposed, sleeps. Another moment's delay, and it may break
in an eternal storm on your guilty head. Now, we proclaim
"the opening of the prison-doors to them that are bound."
Fly, then, to Jesus. Hasten to the Son of God as thy Saviour.
Oh, how kind, how benignant is God, even in the denunciations of his wrath!
5. We see the self-deception, and the hardihood in sin of
those who scoff at the divine threatenings.
Their self-deception is obvious.  They flatter themselves
that it does no good to preach terror, they are not to be frightened into religion —frightened to heaven-and wonder that
ministers do not preach more upon the mercy of God. Does
no good to preach terror? Why, then, does the living God
preach it? Why did the Saviour of the world, who loved sinners and died for them-why did he preach it? Never did
the denunciation of eternal wrath break in such thunders from
any lips as from his. But why not tell us of the mercy of
God? We do-and we ought; the theme should fire our
hearts, and make our language glow. And why is not this
enough? Why so often attempt to frighten us into religion2
I answer: we make no such attempt; we never declare the
wrath of God merely to make you tremble; we never point
you to an absolute, unconditional damnation. We make
known the terrors of the Lord, that you may fear, and hear,
and be saved-that you may thus see the folly of plunging




272  THE TERROR OF THE L ORD PERSUASIVE.
blindfold into the abyss of hell, for the sake of this vain
world. We make known the terror of the Lord, that you may
see your dying necessity of feeling it, or submitting to the
terms of mercy-that you may know how guilty you are in
the sight of God, and learn the justice, and holiness, and glory
of-God, and your obligations to submit to his claims-in a
word, that you may be persuaded to embrace the offered salvation-and because we know you never will be thus persuaded, unless you know that hell must be your portion, if you
are not. Deceive then yourself, fellow-sinner, no longer. If
you contemn this preaching, you are your own worst enemyyou are despising the appointed means of salvation, without
which you will perish. Despise it if you will, but if you do
not fear hell, you will go there. And why should you not fear
it?  Is it not a reality?  Does not the God of mercy teach
you to fear it?  Are you not exposed to it? Why, then, do
you affect to despise and resist the preaching of terror? Surely
not because that is not the preaching which you need? No.
Because it disquiets and troubles you in your purposes of sin.
Here is the secret of all your objections-you are not willing
to be disturbed. And tell us, is this the reason why we should
let you alone, and sew pillows under arm-holes, and rock
you to sleep on the brink of everlasting burnings? Would
you thank us for our kindness, when those fires kindle upon
you?
After all, perhaps, you can contemn the preacher of these
things, and heap obloquy and reproach upon him. It is often
done. Yes; let the preacher of the gospel denounce the wrath
of God, in the very words of God-let him tell of the fire
which shall never be quenched, of the lake that burneth with
fire and brimstone; and many there are who can quote these
words of the Holy Ghost with a sneering, scoffing contempt
of the man that utters them! What hardihood in guilt is
this! God utters their damnation, and they throw back his
words into the face of God. Tell me if such men will not
feel that wrath, till they shall learn not to despise it? Tell us,




THE TERROR OF THE LORD PERSUASIVE.  273
for whom is hell prepared, with its chains, and darkness, and
fires, if not for men who set the wrath of God at defiance, and
who thus rush upon the thick bosses of his buckler?
And now, my dear hearers, let me request you to bring to
the test of experiment the doctrine of this discourse. The
doctrine is; that the design and practical tendency of the
threatenings of God is to persuade mnen to holy obedience.
Now, if they ever have this influence, they must be thought
of until their efficacy is felt.
_Now, you may be too proud, or too slothful, to make this
attempt. You may be too proud to be saved in the way in
which the jailor was saved. But unless you are willing to
come to this point-unless you are willing that the moral influence of the: gospel, as it comes through the divine threatenings, should reach your conscience-unless you consent to feel
that you are guilty, and deserve the doom  which God has
threatened —that you are lost —fearfully exposed to the execution of those threatenings, you never will be converted, and
never will be saved.
Will you, then, brave all these terrors of God? Will you go
on dreaming that the world only is good, when, if yotu have
this good in this life, you must take hell with it in the next?
Will you yet trifle with that resistless decree of the Almighty,
which has fixed the alternative of repentance or perdition?
Will you refuse to think of that evil of sin, which a just God
measures by denouncing eternal woe on the sinner? tWill you
go on heedless of that God, who frowns and thunders in his
wrath, to awe you back from eternal fire to the embrace of his
mercy!
12*                                      18




xx.
THE NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE.
LUKIE Xiii. 5.
"Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish."
OUR Lord often based his instructions upon undeniable
and admitted facts. On the present occasion some who had
heard him declare the certain and eternal destruction of the
wicked, told him of those Galileans whom Pilate had murdered when they came to the temple to worship, and whose
blood he had mingled with their sacrifices. From this signal
instance of destruction they inferred that there was some peculiarity of character or circumstances in the case of these unhappy sufferers which did not pertain to others, or at least to
themselves. To correct this false conception and to show
them that they stood exposed to a similar doom, he answered,
" Suppose ye that these Galileans were sinners above all the
Galileans because they suffered such things? I tell you, Nay;
but, except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish." To bring
this view of the subject still closer to the conscience of those
whom he addresses, he alludes to another instance which, so
to speak, occurred among their own acquaintance. " Or those
eighteen on whom the tower at Siloam fell, think ye that they
were sinners above all men that dwell in Jerusalem? I tell
you, Nay; but, except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish."
I propose to considerFirst, The nature; and,
Second, The necessity of repentance.
I. The nature of repentance.




THE NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE.              275
I remark1. That repentance implies godly sorrow for sin.
"Godly sorrow," saith the apostle, " worketh repentance to
salvation not to be repented of." Repentance, then, is the
effect of godly sorrow, and implies it. In every requirement
of repentance this sorrow is therefore required. Godly sorrow
is sorrow for sin, as committed against God. It is the thought
that he has sinned AGAINST Go —a God so holy, so good, so
gracious-that affects and softens the heart of the true penitent
with ingenuous sorrow. To know what God is, as a Being to
whom pertains all that is vast in power, comprehensive in
wisdom, enchanting in goodness and mercy; thus to see his
glories, and while they beam on the fixed and wondering eye
of contemplation, to be obliged to say, "Against THEE, thee
only have I sinned"-oh, it is this which touches the secret
place of tears and melts the heart in contrition.
2. Repentance involves the hatred of sin.
This hatred of sin is of the same disinterested and ingenuous
nature as godly sorrow. It respects the intrinsic turpitude of
sin. It is not the mere punishment of sin as natural evil,
which it respects, but sin itself-sin in its inherent moral turpitude and odiousness-sin, the most odious object conceivable-the most fit to be hated and abhorred-sin which, as opposition to God, his soul hateth, on which he cannot look
without shuddering, and the measure of whose abhorrence is
the doom with which he threatens it. Sin, what is it? It is
the governing, actuating principle of a moral being-a being,
made to live and act, not to defeat but to promote God's
great and perfect designs. It reigns in the heart of such a
being, giving direction and form, tendencies and results to all
his doings.  It is the principle of selfishness-a principle
which is concerned only for self-which does not fix on universal good, and which, therefore, sacrifices to its own private,
limited end or object, all other good-a created universeGod-his designs, and his blessedness; and more, unrestrained
it goes forth to fill a universe with anguish, and is, therefore,




276       THEt N'ECESSITY OF REPENTANCE.
nothing else, nothing better, than the fell malignity of an infernal. It is the hatred and the abhorrence of such a heart,
as being his own heart, which the penitent sinner feels. He
sees, and says, and feels, such is mzy heart; such is and has
been the principle from which I have acted; such I am in
truth —God's enemy; such I am in his sight. In the light of
his glory I see it, I know it, I feel it; I am vile, I abhor myself.
It is obvious that such hatred of sin will be directed against
every form and manifestation of sin, against sin in all circumstances, against sin in himself, and against sin in all men. Sin
will possess its own inherent odious nature, whatever form it
may assume-whether it be secret or open; whether in thought,
or word, or action; whether it be mean or honorable in the
eyes of the world; whether productive of present good or present evil, it will still be sin, and will be the object of abhorrence to the real penitent.
3. Repentance includes reformation.
This, as it respects both the affections of the heart and the
conduct of the life, is the crowning excellence of this evangelical virtue. The very word used in the New Testament
signifies that amendment and reformation from what is wrong
in us, produced by just views of the nature of what is thus
wrong.  Indeed, true godly sorrow fol sin, and a genuine
hatred of sin, while they are in themselves a part of real
amendment or reformation, must in their very nature tend to
produce a universal reformation in heart and life. He who
truly mourns for his sins, and who truly hates all sin, in proportion to the strength of these principles, will infallibly forsake all sin. At the same time, as we unavoidably love that
which is the direct opposite of what we hate, the true penitent
must love holiness, and therefore must be led to aim at universal obedience to the will of God, in heart and life. Let me
not be understood to assert that the imperfect repentance of
saints on earth, secures perfect freedom from sin. This, however, may be said, that sin has not dominion over the true




THE NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE.                277
penitent in this life; he will never rest satisfied with himself
while sin mars the affections of his heart or stains the conduct
of his life; the commanding object of his purposes and his
efforts will be to avoid sin and to practice holiness. More
and more continually will this purpose be cherished and
strengthened; more and more will these efforts be made.- Ile
will go from strength to strength, he will improve in holiness
as he approaches his eternal home, till perfection absolute
shall render him a meet partaker with the saints in light in
their communion and their blessedness.
Perfect repentance, then, on the part of a sinner, is substantially the sum of all religion. The penitent is a sinner,
who, having just views of sin and just feelings toward it, renounces it and becomes holy. Indeed, in its nature, repentance in man differs not from the religion of angels in heaven,
only as it is modified in reference to the character of man as a
sinner; and the true penitent has substantially in kind the
same views of sin, the same feelings toward it, and the same
purposes respecting it, which the holiest seraph, had he once
sinned, would possess. It is easy to see, in such a case, how
a being so holy would feel. Had Gabriel sinned, he would
grieve for sin, for its own intrinsic turpitude and guilt as hostile to the God whom he sees, adores, and loves; lie would
hate it as lie now does, and for the same reason; lie would
employ the whole energies of his spirit to avoid it, and to be
like God in purity and holiness. And unless we have some
of these feelings and these purposes we have no warrant for a
thought that we have repented.
I proceed to considerII. The necessity of repentance. "Except ye repent, ye
shall all likewise perish."
I remalrk
1 That this is the decision of God respecting all men.
This decision is presented in many forms. In the commands of God. When John the Baptist came-when the Son
of God entered on his public ministry, they came-saying,




278      THE NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE.
"Repent, for the kingdom of heaven is at hand."  When the
apostles went forth, they made known their commission, by
declaring that God "now commandeth all men everywhere
to repent." And obedience to God's commandments is required on pain of eternal death. Repentance and faith were,
indeed, the burden of apostolic preaching, the sum and substance of that gospel which was to be preached to every creature, as'" testifying to the Jews and also to the Greeks repentance toward God, and faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ."
To disobey the call, therefore, is to reject the gospel, and to
incur its curse. But we are not left to mere deduction and
inference-conclusive as this method of argument is. We
have God's express decision-we have it on record, as uttered
by the Saviour of the world-we have it in terms as plain as
language can furnish. The point, therefore, is not to be disposed of in some easy, indolent, superficial way, by supposing
that God is too merciful to condemn, or our morality too
exemplary to expose us to his wrath. If what God says of
himself, is of higher authority than our own opinions or conjectures concerning him-if what he has fixed as the terms
of life and death will stand in spite of our notions and fancies,
the impenitent sinner, be he who he may-wise or ignorant,
rich or poor, moral or immoral, a little sinner or a great sinner-is stripped of all hope by the text. We have the declaration, "Except ye repent, ye shall ALL likewise perish;" and
it is the decision of him who "hath the keys of hell and
death," who  "openeth and no man shutteth, who shutteth and
no man openeth."
2. From facts.
The solemn declaration in the text is an appeal to acknowledged facts. The slaughter of the Galileans by the sword of
Pilate, and the destruction of the eighteen by the fall of the
Tower of Siloam, were well-known instances of divine judgment against sin. Sinners have perished —sinners distinguished
by no peculiarity of guilt-sinners, therefore, in whose case
there was no more reason to anticipate the righteous judg



THE NECESSITY OF RE:PENTANCE.             279
ments of heaven than there is to anticipate it in other cases.
What God has done in these instances, there is every reason to
believe he will do in others like them. This is the argument
of our Lord, and it comes to us in unabated force. For what
was there in those Galileans and Jews, why God, immutably
just and holy, should deal with them in the severity of righteous retribution, which is not to be found in the case of impenitent sinners of this age, and this place? Let the point of
difference be told, if it be known. Beyond this, we might
appeal not only to instances of individual sinners, but we may
see the truth before us in the destruction of thousands and
millions by the deluge, by the storm of fire and brimstone,
and by the massacre of the Jews by the Romans, and in all
cases in which the divine judgments have hurried the guilty
without preparation into eternity. In the whole history of his
providence, in this record of his own doings, God has presented himself, in every age, a God taking vengeance. He
has not punished one, and suffered another to escape. He has
appeared but in one character, revealed himself in very deed,
in awful and uniform consistency, for six thousand years; and
through the whole series of his dealings, not a solitary exception has occurred to authorize a doubt or suspicion of what he
will continue to do. Whether, therefore, we can unfold the
fitness and equity of this procedure or not, whether we can
establish the truth in the text by independent reasonings of
our own or not, may be left out of the question. Under the
administration of a God of infinite perfection, final and eternal
ruin has overtaken the impenitent in every age. The solemn
truth, "Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish," meets
us in the stubborn, unyielding aspect of A MATTER OF FACT.
3. From the moral government of God.
That God has established a moral government is one of
those facts which the lowest depravity of man seldom, if ever,
has denied. It is so clearly taught by what man knows of
himself, of his relations to his fellow-men, and to his Maker,
that all the darkness of heathenism has not been able to efface




280      THE' NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE.
the conviction from the human mind. The veriest profligacy
of atheism itself has ever been forced to admit that there is a
right and a wrong in human conduct. But if God, in his infinite wisdom and goodness, has established a moral government-if, as the essential part of such a government, he has
promulgated a law as the rule of conduct-if he has enforced
that law by the necessary sanctions-if the ends aimed at by
such a government be more important than any other which
God himself could discover, then that government will be
maintained. I know that there are loose, imperfect notions on
this subject in most minds. With respect to it, most men
are in the deepest midnight of ignorance. They scarcely see
or know a reason why God should punish his creatures. Here
is the reason. God, as the means of the highest good to the
universe, has established a moral government. The measure
is worthy of a God, and the question concerning the maintenance of that government is no other than whether God
shall be God-whether God shall be glorified. What, then,
must become, what ought to become of the persevering rebel
against the most tIigh? Shall God suffer him to escape the
threatened and yet defied penalty of his government, and
thus subvert his throne? Shall God relinquish the designs
of infinite wisdom and goodness, and the means of accomplishing those designs, for the rebel's sake? Especially, when
to secure these designs in behalf of rebels themselves, he
has given his Sonl to become a curse for them, and they still
persist in their impenitent rejection of his mercy? Will he
thus stamp with folly the work of redeeming grace? Any
conscience can answer. No; God will roll on this plan of
his own to its final consummation, though it overwhelms a
revolted world in hell; and the result would show that his
wisdom  and his goodness-his very existence as God-required that every impenitent sinner should be put in that
place of perdition. We may imagine and theorize, and think
and dream on this subject, but our conjectures and our theories,
in competition with the principles of God's moral government,




THE NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE.              281
will be as tow amid the fires of the last conflagration. If there
be such a thing as a moral government-if there be such a
thing as a high, and holy, and divine Legislator-if there be
such a thing as a throne in heaven, and if the infinite God
sits upon it, then with all the weight of an eternal truth should
it settle on every mind, " Except ye repent, ye shall all likewise perish."
4. From the moral character of God.
It is not necessary to dwell on the argument which might
be drawn from each particular attribute of the Deity. There
is one great and comprehensive perfection which includes and
pervades every other. I mean the holiness of God. Now,
without repentance, the sinner still continues to be a sinnerthe enemy of holiness and of God. The purposes of God,
and the character which he displays in accomplishing his designs, the sinner steadily hates and opposes. But all this guilt
and pollution, all this vileness and odiousness of character, are
naked to the omniscient eye. As a holy God, he must regard
it with absolute abhorrence and ceaseless displeasure. To suppose otherwise, is to suppose God either to approve, or to be
indifferent to what is directly opposite to himself, and worthy
of his eternal rebuke. It is to suppose God to hate, or wholly
disregard his own perfections and glory. But can a spotless
God hate himself? Can his own infinite perfection become an
object of indifference to himself? Can he fail to abhor sin
with a measure of indignation proportioned to the purity and
infinitude of his nature? Will he forfeit the character which
commands the adoration of all heaven, and dismiss from his
Godhead that attribute to support and honor which he has
given his Son to die on the cross? And will the omnipotence
of God sleep, when the holiness of God is offended to the uttermost?  When we look at the holiness of God, in its aspect
of irreconcilable hostility to all sin-when we look at that
inaccessible height of purity and splendor at which it raises
him, above all possible perfection of his creatures, so that
angels are charged with folly before him-when we think of




282      THE NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE.
those pure eyes which cannot behold iniquity-when we think
of that sanctuary of his presence into which nothing can enter
that defileth-a sanctuary guarded by all the jealousies of the
divine nature when we hear that voice of adoration to a
thrice holy God, which makes the pillars of his temple tremble,
we know that God is a consuming fire, we know that the fury
of his indignation will go forth in the eternal destruction of
his impenitent enemies.
5. From the character of the impenitent.
Character will decide the allotments of eternity. The last
breath will fix the character beyond all change, and "he that
is holy will be holy still, and he that is filthy will be filthy
still." Now, we do not appeal to an arbitrary decision of
God to determine the state of an impenitent sinner after death,
but to his own character as then becoming unchangeable, and
ask where and how must his eternity be spent? From the
world, the only source of happiness to him now, he cannot
then derive a particle of enjoyment. In heaven, though admitted there, he could not find it. He has neither taste nor
capacity for its services, for its society, or its joys. The very
foundation of all the happiness of that world is holiness.
Every being, every affection, every pursuit, every enjoyment
is holy. With such society the impenitent sinner could not
unite, such affections he could not exercise, in such pursuits
he could not engage, in such enjoyments he could not partake.
He does not love those who are holy on earth, he exercises no
holy affections, he engages in no holy employments, he relishes
no holy joys. God he does not love, in Jesus he does not
trust, in Christians he does not delight-in the law of God, in
the gospel of his Son, in his Sabbath, or his sanctuary, he finds
no delight. What happiness, then, is there for him ever ill
heaven? Saints and angels would shun his so'ciety as still the
enemy of God and the Saviour; and he would find himself
alone, a forsaken outcast, the object of unmingled contempt
and scorn amid the happy throng. "H Ioly, holy, holy, Lord
God Almighty," is the delightful anthem of each celestial,




THE NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE.              283
and that God the sinner hates. With still higher rapture each
redeemed spirit cries, " Worthy is the Lamb that was slain,
and has redeemed us to God by his blood." But every note
of that song would be a lie on the sinner's tongue, and anguish
to his heart. To fulfill the high commands of God would be
a painful drudgery, and to behold him face to face would overwhelm him in the agonies of conscious guilt. Whither, then,
shall he fly? In heaven he cannot dwell. So surely as his
body must be transformed before he could be insensible to
pain amid the fires of the pit, so surely must his soul be transformed before he could fail to feel a weariness-yea, a torment
amid the hallelujahs of paradise.
Where, then, and how shall he be happy? If in any way,
by indulging his desires, by acting out his dispositions in corresponding conduct. And where and how shall this be done?
In hell, in the rage and blasphemies of the enemies of God.
Hell, then, is his only refuge; for that world and its employments only is he prepared. So long as he remains impenitent, so long his love of sin remains; and a sinful mind, in a
disembodied state, cannot be happy. God cannot make that
mind happy, except by making it holy-by making the sinner
penitent. The love of sin will become more and more intense.
In all the restlessness and woe of intense, unsatisfied desire,
wounded by the arrows of an angry conscience, he must be
wretched. Take away, then, all the chains, and bars, and
gates of the eternal prison —let the impenitent sinner go away
from its dark and woeful regions, he carries hell within him.
His character-his very disposition make hell. Himself is
hell.
We do not, then, appeal to an arbitrary decision of God to
determine the state of the impenitent sinner after death, but
to the nature of things-the nature of the mind, and his own
character. We see that impenitence is itself perdition in its
deepest horrors.
Thus I have endeavored to lay before you the nature of true
repentance, and the necessity of it, to avoid everlasting de



284      THE NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE.
struction. Repent or 9eri8sA is the great alternative of the
gospel. One or the other must be realized in the case of every
human being. And as surely as a day is coming which will
place all men on the right or left: hand of the Judge-all men
in heaven or hell-so surely is there in the character of every
human being a foundation for that final and awful discrimination. There is a line which separates the whole race into two
great and awfully important divisions-a line which takes its
own steady and:undeviating way through this assembly, and
on one or the other side of which each is placed, and according to the situation of each-should instant death overtake us
-the allotment of each would be fixed in eternal bliss or woe.
It is, then, a question of most momentous interest, my dear
hearers, on which side of that line are you? To answer this
question, you have only to answer another-have you repented
or have you not? Have you seen, in the light of God's glory,
how exceeding sinful sin is? Do you hate sin, for its own intrinsic turpitude and odiousness? Is it because it is opposed
to a holy, perfect God, a God whose excellence you see and
love? Is it because it is against a law that is holy, and just,
and good, that you hate sin and mourn over it? Does your
sorrow and aversion to sin lead you to forsake it? Is it your
supreme desire to be freed from it, and to become holy like
God; and does this desire prompt to effort, and do these efforts
produce the actual result of holiness of heart and life?
It is easy for you to put aside these questions-it is easy to
dismiss the subject which involves your eternal all, in some
loose and superficial way suggested by carnal sloth and stupidity, and pretexts of unbelief. Thus most of you have a
thousand and a thousand and a thousand times dismissed it.
The same causes for putting it away from you still exist, and
will exist till the hour of death. But the subject cannot be
dismissed on the judgment-day. There will then be a decision, a final decision for eternity. Have you repented of your
sins against God? If your conscience answers, as in many
cases it does, that you have not, then I ask you will you re



THE NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE.                285,pent now?  Who, in this congregation, is so abandoned to
wickedness.as not to feel the desirableness of reformationwho does not look forward to his own repentance as a delightful object of attainment in the future? Who can say, in the
sincerity of his soul, " Let me live and let me die without the
least contrition for my sins against God 2"  Who, were it not
for the insignificant pleasures of sin, would defer his repentance for an instant?  Say not that you intend to repent at a
future period. Better resolve that you never will repent, for
this is a resolution which probably you could not keep; the
other is easily kept till the day of mercy is gone. The question, then, is: will you repent of your sins against the God
that made you, and the Saviour that died for you, to-day?
Bear with my importunity. I know I must meet you at the
bar of judgment; and there, if you reject the call of the gospel, I must see you sink under its fearful curse. This may be
the last time I shall call you, and, my dear hearers, I am in
earnest. God is in earnest, when he now commands all men
to repent. The Holy Ghost is in earnest, while he touches
your conscience and your heart. Angels are in earnest, while
they wait to witness your purpose, and long for your return
to life and to God. Saints are in earnest, while they lift the
cry for mercy in your behalf. Hell and its legions are in
earnest, while they strive to prevent or weaken your resolution, and to draw you downward to perdition. Jesus your
Saviour is in earnest, while, amid the agonies of his cross, he
comes to you in the accents of entreating mercy, and now, in
the hearing of you, declares: "Except ye repent, ye shall all
likewise perish."  Will you not be in earnest, too?.Will you
repent?  Can you hesitate? What is the world, if your soul
must perish in hell? What is your life? A brittle thread.
And once broken, what is the eternity before you? Oh, look
at your approaching doom!  How certain —how inevitable!
See it in God's declarations-see it in that wreck of souls
which sin spreads around you-see it in the stabilities of God's
eternal throne-see it in that attribute of holiness which con



286      THE'NECESSITY OF REPENTANCE.
stitutes his own divinity —see it in your own character, in the
hell that is within you. It must come. You must perish.
How powerless the desire of man! How resistless the decree
of God!




XXI.
IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE.
2 CORINTHIANs Vi. 2.
" Behold, now is the day of salvation.'
DURING the present life the character of every child of
Adam will be formed and fixed for eternity. Of no part of
this short and fleeting probation can we be sure, save the
passing moment. While, therefore, the Scriptures represent
man as a prisoner of hope so long as life lasts, they assign to
the present moment the unspeakable importance of being that
portion of life in which, and perhaps the only one in which,
his salvation can be secured.
On this subject there are two practical errors on the part of
impenitent men, which are equally fatal. The most common,
perhaps, is, that repentance is a duty which may as well be
done at one time as at another; that it is a work of such easy
and sure accomplishment, that little or no danger attends the
delay of it. Hence such multitudes, under the light of salvation, sleep on in sin and die forever. The other error, not
less fatal, and very common, is, that pzreent repentance is
utterly out of the question-a thing on their part utterly hopeless at the present time, and, as a present act, to be entirely
despaired of. This is fatal, because under this view of his
condition not an effort to obtain salvation would ever be made
by a human being. Who will attempt to do at any moment
what at that moment he despairs of doing?
The text, by clear implication, teaches what may be called
the present practicability of salvation.
The season denominated " the day of salvation" is that in




288  -IIMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE.
which salvation may be obtained; and when it is said, " Now
is the day of salvation," we are plainly taught that the time
in which this blessing may be secured is the present time.
The doctrine contained in the text is, thatTie sinner is authorized to regard immediate compliance
with the terms of salvatio, as a practicable duty.
From this statement of the doctrine it may be understood
to apply to man, both as a moral agent and as dependent on
divine grace; and in this large sense it is intended that it
should be understood. That is practicable to man which he
has power to perform. If, therefore, he is a moral agent, then
he has power to perform every duty which God requires, and
is therefore fully authorized to regard immediate compliance
with the terms of salvation as a duty which can be done.
When I say that immediate compliance with the terms of
salvation is to be regarded as a duty practicable to the sinner,
viewed as dependent on divine grace, I do not mean that
there are not some sinners who never will be brought to repentance. Doubtless there are many such. Neither do I intend to assert that any thing which the sinner will do without
renewing grace, creates an absolute certainty or even a strong
probability, that his heart will be changed. But I mean that
he has ample warrant for the conclusion that compliance with
the terms of salvation, is an event which may take place the
next moment.
I. There is no decisive proof to the contrary.
The fact that God judicially abandons some to final impenitence, is no warrant to any individual to conclude that he is
thus abandoned. Many a sinner has awful reason to fear
that such is his case; but God has nowhere so designated his
case-nowhere, either in his word or providence, so marked
out any individual as already abandoned to hopeless impenitence, as to warrant the absolute conclusion that such is his
unhappy condition.
Further, the doctrine of regeneration furnishes no decisive
proof on the point in question. The doctrine of regeneration




IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE.  289
is, that the grace of God is necessary-necessary through the
sinner's perverseness in sin-to bring the sinner to repentance.
But the necessity of such influence is no proof that it will not
be given. It is necessary that God should preserve life, but
no one infers from this necessity that his life will not be preserved.
Again, the doctrine of election furnishes no proof that God
will not give repentance to the sinner. The doctrine is, that
God has determined to give repentance to some, even to many,
of our guilty race. But surely the purpose of the unchangeable God to give repentance to some, is no proof that he will
not give repentance to any, nor, of course, that he will not
give it to this or that particular person. True, if you are not
elected, you will not repent.  But possibly you may be
elected. God has determined that the life of multitudes shall
not be prolonged another day. This surely is no proof to any
individual that he will die before night.
Again, the doctrine of God's sovereignty in the dispensation
of his Spirit, is no proof that he will not now give the sinner
repentance. So far from it, that it can be shown that this
doctrine is peculiarly fitted to urge the sinner to instant duty.
Three views of the dispensation of the Spirit may be taken.
One, that God will wait and be ready to grant his Spirit whenever the sinner is ready to receive it. Tile second, that he
will not now grant repentance. The third, that he will do as
he pleases-give or not give, as it seemeth good in his sight.
Now, to illustrate the tendency of these views, let us suppose
a case. Suppose a man wishes to go from one place to another by steamboat, and that on the most urgent and important business. Suppose, also, like every sinner, he has some
business of less consequence which he would be glad to transact before he sets off. Suppose, now, he sends a servant to
the captain of the boat to see, whether he will not accommodate him in this respect by waiting half an hour, and the captain
to return one of the following answers: first, " That he will
wait as he wishes."  Now he goes quietly to his business here
Vol. I. —13                               19




290  IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE.
instead of hastening to the boat. Or, "He will not wait a
moment beyond the hour."  The man looks at his watch and
finds it too late; it cannot be done now; and all is despair,
and of course no effort. But the third answer is, " He will do
as he pleases;" and now he looks at his watch and sees that
he may reach the boat and he may not. Now he runs; he
flies. Not a moment must be lost. So the sinner, if he believes he can safely defer, he will defer. If there is no hope
from present action he will not act. But when by immediate
action he may succeed, and by delay all may be lost, then, if
ever, will he hasten to his God and Saviour.
Further, the number and aggravations of the sins of an
individual is no proof that God will not give him repentance.
Were his guilt so great, as persons sometimes imagine, that
God cannot pardon, then, indeed, it might be true that God
would not grant co7vertin, grace. But to warrant'this conclusion, even in such a case, the person must know the fact
that such is the degree of his guilt, a fact which God never
reveals, and concerning which he never furnishes to any individual in this life the means of deciding. Nor is this all. The
premises are false. God can pardon the greatest as well as
the least sinner. Atoning blood is sufficient for the forgiveness of a world. In heaven there is room for all. The invitation extends over this revolted world and summons every
dweller on the face of it to accept of the great salvation.
Once more. The want of conviction is no proof that irnmediate repentance is impracticable.  What is conviction?
A deep sense of guilt and ruin. What length of time, then,
is necessary that one who knows that he is a sinner against
God, and justly condemnned to eternal death, may feel it?
What if he saw his body in the same danger in which his soul
is; how long before he would feel that? In an instant. And
what is certain in one case is possible in the other-yea, certain in the other, if he did not resist the power of the truth
which he believes. There is not a sinner in this assembly
who would not this moment be an awakened sinner, did he not




IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE.:   291
shut out that light from heaven which discloses to him his
guilt and his condemnation. The want of conviction, then,
does not render immediate repentance impracticable.
Nor is it a proof that immediate repentance is impracticable,
that conviction has continued long, but to no salutary purpose.
It is no uncommon fact that sinners have been long impressed
with religious things without being converted. They seem, in
their own language, to have done every thing which they can
do, to give their hearts to God, but all to no purpose, and
hence conclude the event to be impossible. Now, there is
much reason to believe that this state of mind has, in many
instances, been followed by immediate repentance. It is, therefore, no proof that the same may not be true in other instances.
A degree of self-righteousness, or pride, or something else, may
have occasioned the failure of all past efforts. The next effort
may be without such defect-the next effort may surmount all
former obstacles-the next effort, though a thousand previous
efforts have been vain, may be that by which, through the
grace of God, the work will be done.
I have now considered the principal, if not all the reasons,
for the opinion that immediate repentance is impracticable.
If the remarks be just, this opinion has not the shadow of
evidence for its support.
I shall now proceed to offerII. Some direct proof of our doctrine.
1. The text, and many similar declarations.
We have already remarked that the text clearly implies
that there is a time when salvation may be secured. Similar
declarations will readily occur to every reader of the Scriptures. Now, it is incredible that God should so decisively and
frequently declare that there is a time, even the present, when
salvation is attainable, and yet have left the sinner to believe
that present compliance with the terms on which the blessing
is offered, is utterly impracticable. Let any one read the
declaration from God, "Behold, now is the accepted time;
behold, now is the day of salvation," and say whether he can




292  IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE.
deny the possibility of his repenting this moment, without
charging God with falsehood!
2. The commands of God.
God nzow commandeth all men everywhere to repent. All
the commands of God impose present obligation, and urge to
immediate obedience. Now, when the commands of God in
this form meet us on every page of this holy book, what is
the natural inference? That the immediate submission to
these commands is utterly out of the question? That days,
and weeks, and months, or even years, must elapse before
obedience can be regarded as possible? Why has God issued
his commands to men? Is not one reason this, that men should
obey them? Does not God design and expect that some at
least will obey them?  But, surely, none will obey them
while they regard obedience as utterly impossible?  No matter what the impossibility is. It is true, indeed, that a moral
impossibility, or wvhat is the same thing, perverseness of heart,
is consistent with obligation to obey. But so long as man
believes himself to be subject to such an impossibility, without relief from any source, he will never make an effort at
obedience. IHe will sit still in sullen despondence. Just so
certain, then, as God expects men to obey his commands, just
so certain is it, that he furnishes no warrant for them to believe that such obedience is impracticable. The most distinct
utterance that ever broke from the eternal throne on mortal
ears is, "My Son, give me thine heart;" and who shall say
that God is not sincere, or that man is doomed to another
moment's disobedience?
3. The means used to bring men to compliance.
Not only the commands of God, but all his warnings, all
his threatenings, all his rebukes, all his invitations, entreaties,
and expostulations, unite with all his providential dispensations, to stop the sinner in his iniquity, and to bring him to
an immediate submission to the terms of the gospel. I-e discloses to him his awful condition. "He that believeth not, is
condemned already." He leaves him no ground of hope or




IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE.  293
quiet in his present state. "There is no peace, saith my God,
to the wicked."  He reproves him for his continued abuse of
his own patience and forbearance toward him. " Or despisest
thou the riches of his goodness, and forbearance, and long-suffering?"  HIe reminds him of the shortness and uncertainty of
his probation. "What is your life? a vapor that appeareth
for a little time, and then vanishes away;" "Ye know not what
shall be on the morrow."  He unfolds the great principle of
the dispensation of the Spirit. " My Spirit shall not always
strive."  He apprises him of the danger of perverting the admonitions of his word. "He that is often reproved, and hardeneth his neck, shall suddenly be destroyed, and that without
remedy."  He laments over his wasted day of mercy. "Oh
that thou hadst known even thou at least in this thy day." He
brings all his tenderness and compassion to touch his heart,
and urges it upon his notice, under the solemnity of an oath,
saying, "As I live, saith the Lord, I have no pleasure in the
death of the wicked;" "Turn ye, turn ye, for why will ye die?"
And with all that earnestness of entreaty, and authority of
command, and solemnity of warning, as if the present were
the only time, he says, "To-day, if ye wvill hear his voice,
harden not your hearts."
In his providence, he plants the path of sin with thorns. In
his kindness to the sinner, he suffers him not to be completely
happy for a moment. He visits with afflictions, to teach the
vanity of the world. He pours out his blecssings, to conduct
to himself as the source of all good. Conistantly, suddenly,
unexpectedly, he surrounds us with the dead and the dying,
and makes us hear his voice, saying, "Be ye also ready, for in
such an hour as ye think not, the Son of man corneth."  Now,
whence is all this? Why does God, in all his efforts to save
sinners, thus crowd the concerns of eternity into the present
moment? Why, as if there were no other day of hope, does
he, as it were, make our eternal all, depend on the present? Is
it, that we may believe that some future tinme will be better
fitted to the purpose?  Has God thus designated the present




294  IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE.
time for the great work of repentance and salvation, and yet
is the sinner to suppose that this is the time, and the only time
in which the work cannot be done? That some future time
will be even better than the present? or is he to believe as
God would have him believe, that if he ever can repent, he
can repent now?
4. I appeal to facts.
I do not here appeal merely to facts as they fall under our
own observation. From these we are liable to derive very
different and often erroneous conclusions.  Could we look
with an omniscient eye into the mind of the converted sinner,
we should probably often find the process of thought and feeling very diverse from what we are accustomed to suppose.
Be this as it may, facts, as they fall under our observation,
furnish a very doubtful source of argument respecting the
methods of divine grace, compared with facts recorded by the
Spirit of truth. Let us, then, appeal to these. How long
after Peter preached on the day of Pentecost was it before
three thousand of his hearers repented?  It was on the same
day. How long after Paul spake to women on the side of the
river at Philippi, before Lydia repented? While he was yet
speaking the Lord opened her heart, that she attended to the
things spoken by Paul.  How long after the jailor asked,
"W~hat must I do to be saved?" and was answered by the
same apostle, "Believe on the Lord Jesus Christ, and thou
shalt be saved," before he received the Saviour? It was " the
same hour of the night."  Many other instances might be
mentioned. Indeed, the whole history of the progress of the
gospel exhibits this, as the uniform method of divine grace in
converting sinners. Do you say these were miraculous conversions?  I reply first, that your assertion is without proof.
Secondly, if these recorded instances do not unfold the method
of God's grace, we have no sure instruction on the subject.
And thirdly, that where we find similar causes we find similar
effects, in every age. It would be easy to show, did time permit, that under that kind of preaching which most resembles




IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE.  295
the preaching of the apostles, that sudden conversions have
always been common. Here, then, we have plain matters of
fact. No sooner has the gospel been brought before the minds
of sinners-no sooner have their guilt, their obligations, and
their duty been shown to them, and urged upon their conscience, than they have repented. What has occurred on this
subject, may occur again. And the sinner, when divine truth
is brought home to his conscience, has as much reason to think
that in that same hour he may repent, as the jailor had.
5. Evidence to the same point is furnished by the nature of
the subject, and the providence of God.
Compliance with the terms of salvation, whether we consider it as repentance or faith, or love, or regeneration, is an effect
produced by the instrumentality of divine truth. Reasoning,
then, from the nature of the human mind, and the nature of
divine truth, how long a time should we naturally conclude
would be requisite for such truth as God's truth to take effect?
H-low long a time is necessary, when a man is told that his
house is on fire, to secure the influence of the truth?-or if
his property, or his life is in danger, to feel such truth? Iow
much longer time should we reasonably suppose would be
necessary for him to feel the truth, that his soul is under God's
righteous condemnation, and exposed to eternal perdition?
HIow much longer to feel the truth, that there is an allsufficient and glorious Saviour able and ready to save?
Hlow much longer to intrust his soul to his keeping?  how
much longer, with the glories of a perfect God revealed, to love
him?  I I-ow much longer with the odious and abominable
nature of sin exhibited, to hate that? Plainly, an affection
or purpose of the heart a week or an hour long in the forming, would be as much bf an anomaly in religion as in any
other concern. No; it is a thing which, if done at all, must
be done at once- done, as it were, in an indivisible moment.
Why, then, so far as time is concerned, mnay not this purpose
be taken now, and taken once for all?
So far as the nature of the mind is concerned, or the nature




296  IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE.
of the thing to be done, it were natulal to suppose that man
should feel such truth as God's truth, as soon, and as powerfully
as any other truth, and act accordingly. But the objection
arises sin has benumbed the moral sensibilities of the soulthe depraved heart resists the truth of God. Yes; and it always will, so long as you think it must. Yes; the depraved
heart does resist. But is it not the very office and work of the
Spirit of God to remove this insensibility, and overcome this
resistance? Is the Spirit of the Lord straitened? Do you know
that he is not even now striving to do it, and that with your
consent he would not do it? Do you know that this moment,
of all the future moments of your probation, is not the brightest with hope? Can you assign any reason why God will not
give effect to divine truth to-day, as well as to-morrow? The
longer the sinner resists the Holy Ghost, the more he multiplies his provocations; the longer he despises the authority of
God, and rejects the Lord Jesus Christ, the less likely is that
divine agent to renew the sinner's heart. Will accumulated
guilt, years of rebellion, violence to conscience, obduracy of
heart, habitual hardihood in despising God, and heaven, and
hell, prepare the way for converting grace? But you say, will
he do it to-day? That is not the question. Are you sure that
if you awake, as you may, to your eternal concerns, and bring
yourself in sober earnest to the work of giving your heart to
God, that by the power of the Holy Ghost you will not do it?
Is not God on a throne of grace-is he not reigning there to
carry on the work of redemption, to regenerate and sanctify,
and save just such sinners as you? Open your eyes, see the
hundreds around you who were going in the same path to hell
in which you are; but who, by the grace of God, are now
humble penitents for sin, devoted believers in the Lord Jesus,
and fellow-heirs of his glory.  And is your repentance impossible?  See God on the mercy-seat, hear his declaration
that now is the day of salvation. Listen to his calls and entreaties, consider what he has done and is now doing to bring
you to repentance —look at facts as recorded on the sacred




IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE.  297
page-reflect on the nature of the subject, and survey the
scene of divine wonders spread around you —these monuments
of the grace of a present God; and who is the sinner, in this
house, of whom it can be said by man or angel, that he may
not repent before yonder sun shall go down?
REMIARKS.
1. We see the folly of those who refuse all efforts in the
work of their salvation, on the ground that success is uncertain.
Many there are who flatter themselves that they would begin the work of turning to God, in solemn earnest, were they
sure of success; but the fear of failure and of shame holds
them back. So long as God in his word and his providence
authorizes sinners to regard their salvation as possible, so long
it is folly approaching madness to sleep in sin. More than
this they ought not, in friendship to themselves, to desiremore than this, God in kindness to them does not authorize.
Such is their love of the world, and such their love of quiet
in sin, that were there a certain connection between any efforts
of sinners and their salvation, such efforts would never be
made. Sloth, then, stupidity and inaction, because the success of their efforts is uncertain, is perverting the most salutary
truth-truth, which in its adaptation to its end, bespeaks the
riches of the mercy that revealed it —truth, than which, God
in mercy to the sinner, could reveal no other. Appeal to common sense in all other cases. You are sinking in the waves,
with the bare possibility of deliverance through the utmost
exertion; would you, therefore, relinquish effort? A falling
rock is descending from the precipice that hangs over your
head; a bare possibility of escape is all that is left. Sitting
still, you must be crushed in instant death; will you, therefore, make no effort to move? Like this, my hearers, is the
situation, such is the folly of those of you who yet remain
stupid in sin.  Hell and destruction are just before you.
13*




298  IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE.
"Now of a long time your destruction lingereth not, your
damnation slumbereth not."  Sleep a little longer, and you
are lost, lost forever. "'Behold, now is the day of salvation."
2. When ministers exhort sinners to immediate repentance,
they ought to be understood to mean what they say.
Plainly, as such exhortations are founded in the unerring
truth of God, and as plainly, too, as they contain substantially
the only true and proper directions to be given, they are often
regarded as insincere, as strange, inapplicable, or even as the
result of artifice. So erroneous are the views of many of the
doctrines of dependence on the grace of God, so inconsistent
are these views with the obligation and practicability of imnmediate repentance, that they can hardly persuade themselves
that ministers who confine their directions to this duty are sincere and honest. But they are sincere, they are honest, they
mean exactly what they say. And if the dependence of the
sinner on the grace of God, is consistent with the practicability
of repentance-if it be true, when we thus instruct sinners
in their duty, that God peradventure may give them repentance, why doubt either our honesty or consisstency?  The
apostles were sincere, and the Lord Jesus Christ was sincere, when they gave such exhortations.  God is sincere
when he commands sinners to repent. And, my hearers,
if I know my own heart at all, if I am sincere in any thing,
I am when, in the name of God, I exhort you to repent, and
to repent now. I disclaim all duplicity. I mean as I say. I
do not intend merely that you should be awakened, merely
that you should be more deeply convicted, more distressed for
sin, more alarmed. I mean that you should repent, and repent now. I mean that you should regard it as a concern now
on hand,.and put yourself to it with all the urgency which
becomes a work so momentous-a work which may be done —
which ought to be done, and which must be done, or you must
be damned. Always, whether in the pulpit, or on other occasions, when I exhort:you to repent or believe, to give up
your heart to God, and to do it at once-do me the justice to




IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE. 299
believe that I mean as I say —believe that at that moment
it is possible that you should repent. For, if that moment
never comes in which you shall believe, that you may repent,
and must repent, you never will, but will perish.
3. We see the guilt and danger of those who deny the
practicability of immediate repentance, and thus persist in
their sins.
This is a common perversion. Many there are who tell us,
in reply to the rightful claims of God, that a new heart, repentance, &c., are his gift, that they cannot repent themselves,
but must wait God's time.  And what is this but casting
the blame of their continued impenitence upon God, a jus'tifying plea for their continued rebellion against him? And
is it so?  Are men free moral agents, fully qualified to
do their duty, and accountable to God? Do they know who
God is; what his law is; what his gospel is; and can they
vindicate their impenitence by the plea of inability? Do they
believe that not themselves but God has been to blame all
this time for their continued impenitence? They know better.
To all the guilt of a life of rebellion against God, they add the
guilt of knowingly, impiously, and falsely casting the blame
on God. They cherish that perverseness of heart against God,
that determined spirit of rebellion which all the motives in
the universe cannot subdue, and then plead it as a justifying
inability make their very guilt their vindication, their very
desert of hell their title to eternal life. Nor are their guilt
and opposition to God less obvious in another light. Where
has God told them, that their immediate repentance is impracticable; where has God told them that so far as his grace is
necessary that such grace is not ready, and has not always
been; and how, when they appear at his bar, will they be able
to prove it, and thus to make out the truth of their plea, and
that the real, only difficulty did not lie in the hostility of the
heart?  Beyond this, so long as you indulge the thought that
you cannot repent now, you never will repent. My hearers,
if any of you are indulging notions like these, I warn you be



300  IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE.
forehand that the judgment-day will correct your error. It
will then appear that you were a complete moral agent, fully
qualified to do your duty; that you loved the world better
than God; and when the question shall be asked, why did
you not love God, believe on his Son, and repent of sin, your
mouth will be stopped by the consciousness that you ought to
have done it, might have done it, and would not do it. It
will then appear also, that God never authorized the conclusion that his grace was not ready; that it is a device of your
own to escape from your duty to God your Saviour, and that
you knew it to be so. It will then appear that you never put
this question, concerning the readiness of God's grace, fairly to
the test of experience, never spent one day or hour in solemn,
earnest efforts to give your heart to God. Your guilt as a
moral agent, and as dependent on the grace of God, will be
uncovered, assembled worlds will approve the sentence of
your Judge, and you, in all the horrors of anticipation, will
go away to the reality of a double damnation.
4. "Behold, now is the accepted time, now is the day of
salvation."
Fellow-sinner, if you cannot repent to-day, when can you?
Now, God waits to be gracious. Now, in all the sincerity of
infinite love, salvation with eternal glory is offered. [Now,
with all the yearnings of a parent, over froward, ruined children, with all the tenderness of a redeeming God, you are entreated to turn and live. And if you cannot repent to-day,
when can you? Now, your sins are fewer, your provocations
less; now, you have the use of every faculty; now, the truths
of God are known to you; now, the interests of eternity are in
your thoughts; now, your obligation to repent is felt; now,
your guilt is felt; now, you are half resolved to begin the
work in earnest; now, you are convinced that it ought to be
done, and must be done-that nothing will be lost, that every
thing will be gained by the doing of it. And if you cannot
repent now, when can you? Now God commands, Jesus invites, the Holy Ghost strives-all holy beings look with deep




IMMEDIATE REPENTANCE PRACTICABLE.  301
solicitude upon you. Saints pray; angels have sung in rapturous song the proclamation of " GOOD WILL" to the guilty and
the lost. Jesus hath wept over them, and still follows them
with the entreaties of his love. Ileaven lifts up its everlasting doors and throws open its everlasting gates. God hath laid
aside his terrors, and comes, a beseeching suppliant, to his wayward children; he has cleared away the darkness and storm
from his throne, and looks upon you with the aspect, the
smile of inviting love.  The broad flag of peace and reconciliation floats on heaven's high portals, crowns of life
attract, thrones of glory allure, palms of victory, robes of
righteousness, and songs, and bliss, and joy forevermore, invite
you to God's eternal presence; and now, with his commission
in his stead,for God and in his name, we beseech you to receive
his great salvation. To-morrow, you may be dead; to-morrow
may look upon your body in the grave, and on your soul in
the pit of anguish and despair; to-morrow, and the Holy
Ghost, who now touches your heart and makes you sober and
solemn, may, for your rejecting this offer of mercy, never
touch that heart again. If you cannot repent now, when can
you?




XXII.
ON STRIVING TO ENTER IN AT THE STRAIT GATE.
LuyE xiii. 24.
"Strive to enter in at the strait gate, for many, I say unto you, will seek to enter
in, and shall not be able."
WITH great propriety and force our Lord often represented
human life, under the image of a journey through this world
into that which is eternal.  In his sermon on the mount, he
adopts this metaphor, and in a manner equally just and alarming, exhibits the different courses which men pursue through
this world, and the different ends to which death at last conducts them.  " Enter ye in at the strait gate, for wide is the
gate and broad is the way which leadeth to destruction; and
many there be which go in thereat, because strait is the gate
and narrow is the way that leadeth unto life, and FEW there
be that find it."
The instruction of this passage is substantially the same as
that given in our text.
One had asked our Lord, "Are there few that be saved.?"
Without satisfying his curiosity by a direct reply, he aimed to
impress those around him, with the far less importance of
knowing how many others would be saved, than of knowing
how they themselves might be saved.  lie said unto them,
"Strive to enter in at the strait gate, for many, I say unto
you, shall seek to enter in, and shall not be able."
To all who view themselves as still going in the broad way
to destruction, it is a question of deepest interest- how shall
they escape that way, and enter the path of life?  It is a




ON STRIVING  TO ENTER IN, ETC.             303
question which any one must tremble to answer, were he not
guided by the decisions of inspired truth. We consider the
text as one of the plainest and most simple forms in which
this great subject is presented in the sacred volume. It will
not mislead us, for it is the direction of eternal mercy, of everlasting truth.
Mly design isFirst, To explain; and
Second, To enforce the exhortation.
I. To explain it.
By the strait gate, we are to understand the entrance into
that way which leads to life; and to enter in at the strait gate
denotes the commencement of holiness in the heart of man.
The same thing is denoted by conversion-by making a new
heart-by giving God the heart-by reconciliation to Godby repentance for sin —by faith toward our Lord Jesus Christ.
These are substantially one and the same thing, varying only
as the particular object before the mind varies; and, therefore,
either may be used with exact propriety, as they are in the
Scriptures, to denote the commencement of holiness in the
soul of man-and what, in our text, is represented under the
figure of entering in at the strait gate.
It may be remarked, that some expositors understand by
the strait gate, the entrance into the heavenly city. Whether
it be so or not, it makes no material difference in the nature
of the duty enjoined. For it is only by repentance and faith,
by the surrendering of the heart to God, and a life of holy
obedience; i. e., by the vigorous use of the powers of the
moral agent, that an entrance into that world can be obtained.
The gate is said to be strait or difficult, on account of the
difficulties of entering it. The expression is designed to show
us, that to commence a religious course is difficult. The difficulty arises, not from the nature of religion, but from the depravity of the heart. Are we required to turn to God, to
make to ourselves a new heart, to put off the old man, and to
put on the new man-compliance is difficult, because the -de



304'         ON STRIVING TO ENTEI  IN
mand finds the heart supremely set on the world. The world
has governed the affections and formed the character. To
hate at once what we have always loved, to renounce what we
have always eagerly pursued, and what we are still pursuing
with unabated attachment and ardor-to withdraw the whole
man from objects of supreme affection-and thus, as it respects
character, to demolish and annihilate the old man, and yield
the whole man to the influence of objects for which we have
hitherto had no affection, and under their transforming influence assume a new character-to put on the new man, as it
were by a creative act of our own-is truly difficult.
No truth has come home with more entire conviction than
this, to the mind of every one, who has made the experiment,
and learned by trial the strength of indwelling sin.  The
thoughts have so long flowed in one channel, and the affections so long been riveted to the objects of earth-God, and
Christ, and heaven have been so little thought of, have excited
so few sensibilities, they are so removed by distance, so lost in
obscurity; and all this has become such a fixed state, such a
habitude of the soul, that the moment the sinner attempts to
blring hlimself under the transforming power of divine realities, a wall of separation rises in his path, and he sees that
much, much is to be broken off, broken through, resisted, and
overcome, if he would enter the strait gate and narrow way
which leads to life. If any one denies the difficulties of the
work, we would ask him, at least, not to be too confident till
le has tried it.
Hence the text requires us to " strive to enter in at the strait
gate." The word strive is one of the most significant terms
used in the Bible to denote the highest possible exertion.
The original word signifies literally to agonize. It implies
the act of strenuous contest with the most powerful antagonist,
and forcibly shows us in its connection that, to reach the
crown of life, we must break and force our way to it by a sort
of holy desperation of effort. Or, to drop all metaphor, the
sinner is required to summrnon all the powers of his soul to the




AT THE STRAIT GATE.                  305
performance of his duty, and to put himself upon the utmost
exertion, of which as a moral being he is capable, in the work
of turning to God. His understanding, as the faculty by
which he, is qualified to see his duty; his obligations and the
objects of holy affection; his conscience, as that by which obligation is felt, with all the sensibilities of the soul by which
hope and fear and desire are felt; his will or heart, as that by
which he chooses and refuses, loves and hates, are all to be
summoned to their appropriate office, and charged to perform
their appropriate part in this great work, on pain of eternal
death.
1. The understanding must be duly employed.
God has given man understanding, that he might perceive
the nature of his duty and his obligations to perform it. He
has presented them both in the light of heaven, and man is
therefore bound to see and understand them both. But how
shall the truths of God's revelation, the great realities, in view
of which man must act if he act as God requires, bring their
influence to bear on the soul, unless man turn his attention
toward them, and by abstraction of thought from  earthly
objects, and by intent meditation on the powers of the world
to come, he acquire some just views of their nature and their
importance? Will God abandon his moral government, and
cause truth to take effect on the mind that does not perceive
that truth? Will he transform the subjects of his moral government into machines, tarnish his glories and prostrate his
throne, by becoming the mover of passive recipients of influence, the superintendent of the laws of matter and motion; or
will he maintain his high supremacy as the governor of intelligent beings, and reign over subjects formed in his own image, according to the laws of such a jurisdiction? But such a
government cannot be administered without the intervention
of truth or motives, and if truth and motives are to have any
influence on man, they must be seen and thought of. They
must enter the mind, and become objects of fixed contemplation. No matter with what clearness a man's duty and obli20




306          ON STRIVING TO ENTER IN
gations are set before him —no matter what objects are presented as objects of affection; so long as the mind shuts its
eye or turns it away, it is to no purpose that heaven is opened
and hell uncovered. With some steady inspection he must
look in on the glories of the one, and downward on the horrors
of the other, and, with wakeful eye and vigorous footstep,
trace the way of life. This demands effort. All, then, that
man as an intelligent being is capable of doing to obtain just
views of his duty and of his obligations-just views of himself, of God, of the Saviour, of all that truth which is designed
to influence him as a moral being, must be done. No one
who neglects to do this can be said to comply with the precept
in the text.
2. Conscience must perform its appropriate part in connection with all the moral sensibilities of the soul.
By this I intend that all that power or capacity in man by
which he is qualified to feel his obligations, the motives to
obedience, or, in a word, to feel the force of divine truth, must
be yielded to the impression of the objects of feeling-i. e., the
mind must take the impression. Every one knows that it is
in the power of the mind to repress feeling-to restrain and
check sensibility. In vain are the truths of God studied and
understood as matters of cold speculation. A seared conscience and a hardened insensibility must render the clearest
perceptions of truth wholly ineffectual. When the eye of the
understanding, then, is fixed on the duties which the sinner
owes to God, his conscience must also perform its office in feeling his obligations to perform what is required. Conscience
must open the soul to the weight of obligation which lies on
the sinner to obey his God; he must bare his guilty bosom to
the arrows of conviction, and let them strike and fasten and
thrill in the conscience. He must come to this point as one
from which he cannot retreat, and yield to the weight of his
obligations, as that which, like the pressure of great mountains, he cannot shake off. It is for this very purpose that
God has given man a conscience. Conscience, then, must per



AT THE STRAIT GATE.                 307
form the part for which it is given. It is a faculty of the soul
without which man cannot act as a moral being. So of all
the sensibilities of the mind to the objects which God presents
to the mind that they may be felt. Without the due exercise
of these-without employing them for the great purpose of:,eeling obligation to his God and his Saviour-feeling what
God made the mind to feel-no one can be said to strive in
the sense of the text.
3. The will or the heart-that faculty of the soul by which
man chooses and refuses, loves and hates-is also to be properly exerted.
Merely to perceive duty and to feel the obligation to perform it, are not enough to constitute that striving which the
text enjoins. This implies the utmost exertion of every faculty
which has any concern with the great work to be done. To
such an exertion the power of the soul to perform voluntary
acts, to love and to choose, nlust then also be summtloned. Since
man is a complete moral agent, possessing all the powers of
such an agent, no reason can be assigned why any one faculty
or power of the soul should not be required to perform its appropriate part in an act of duty, as well as another. Now, the
heart is the whole moral man; it determines the whole character. The right exercise of the heart is the very substance
and soul of duty. And by what prerogative is this faculty to
be exempted from its appropriate exercise? What plea is to
be offered to excuse the heart of an intelligent, accountable
being, as man is, from loving that God and Saviour when revealed to his clear apprehension? What authority can put an
interdict upon the heart, when the most distinct utterance that
ever burst fiom the eternal throne on mortal ears is, ('My son,
give me thine heart."  Unless the heart, then, be put to the
act of yielding its affections, there cannot be that striving
which the text demands.
I will only add an example or two in further explanation.
By a clear revelation from heaven God is presented to man
as the great object of affection. Would you love that Being?




308          ON STRIVING TO ENTER IN
Bring your understanding to some distinct apprehension of his
excellence open your conscience to the full weight of your
obligations, and summon the voluntary powers of the soul to
the greatest possible effort, actually to fix your affections on
that Being. And when you look, and still look, and see God
as he is-see him, as it were, faceto face-let the glories
which enrapture all heaven touch your heart.
Again, in the same revelation a Saviour from sin and hell
is presented as an object of trust or confidence. Bring, then,
your thoughts to a clear apprehension of the loveliness and allsufficiency of that Saviour, welcome a full sense of your obligation to trust him, and of the guilt and the woes of a refusal,
and while he throws wide the embrace of his mercy b'y an unqualified act of affectionate confidence, commit that polluted
soul, that guilty soul, to Jesus' everlasting arms.
Again: the nature of sin, the character of the sinner, is
plainly presented. The moral character of moral beings consists in the governing principle of action. Of these principles
there are but two. The one is the principle of benevolencegood-will; the other is the principle of selfishness. One the
principle which formed the character of the man Christ Jesus
-that perfect character-that model of all perfection-that
most beautiful, lovely object that the created universe presents to our admiration and our love. This is the principle
which would bless the creation-that gives perfection in character and blessedness to beings created in God's image. The
other the principle of selfishness-a spirit that fixes on our
own individual gratification, to the exclusion of all other good
-a principle, of course, which in its very nature would sacrifice God and all other good, to secure its own object-a principle which in this world is covered up, restrained and tolerated. But uncover it-take off the mask and expose its true
nature —and you see the most odious and revolting object in
the universe. You see a principle which arms its subject
against God, against man and against all good-the principle
which in one form makes the robber and the assassin and the




AT TiE STRAIT GATE.                   309
cold-blooded incendiary; in another form the hero sand the
conqueror, desolating kingdoms, filling a) world with widows
and with orphans-which breaks human hearts, and covers
the earth with human blood and human corpses, and triumphs
in its own achievements —the very spirit that murdered the
Son of God —the very spirit of infernals, and that will mutter
blasphemies against God forever-aye, the very fire of the pit,
that consumes under a sense of perpetual anguish. Now, this
is sin-this the principle, the character of the sinner; your
principle, your character, your heart, fellow-sinner. Would
you repent? Look at yourself, think of yourself, with such a
heart; and in this view of yourself, abhor yourself, and with
sorrow-with ingenuous sorrow-renounce all sin forever, and
assume a new principle, a new character. Be in character
like Christ.
The same general directions respect every other duty which
God requires of man.
Such being the nature of that striving which is inculcated
in the text, I proceedII. To enforce the injunction.
1. It is a command of God..
I need not say that the duty is inculcated in the text. It is
also inculcated in every other divine precept. Take, for example, the similar precept, "Enter in at the strait gate."
Now, as no one can enter in at the strait gate without striving
to do so —i. e., without the efforts and acts of a moral beingthe command to enter in clearly implies all that is contained
in the command to "strive to enter in."  So also the commands to repent, to believe, to love, clearly imply what in the
text is denominated striving. For no one can repent without
striving to repent; no one can believe without striving to believe; no one can love without striving to love. The very
thing commanded is action-a given exertion of the moral
faculties of the soul. The duty, then, of striving to enter in
at the strait gate is enforced by the full authority of every precept of God.




310          ON STRIVING TO ENTER IN
2. The command is perfectly reasonable.
The requisition is, that man should do that, neither more
nor less, which, as a moral being, he is qualified to do; that
he should put those moral faculties which God has given him
upon their appropriate exertions; in a word, that he summon
all the faculties of his soul to the single point of doing as well
as he can do. And, I ask, can such an exertion of either
faculty of the soul be reasonably dispensed with? Ought not
man to employ his understanding to learn his duty? Ought
he not so to exercise the faculty of conscience, that he shall
feel the full weight of his obligations; and ought not the will
or heart to be so exerted as to choose and love what is right,
as well as the understanding in seeing, and the conscience in
feeling, what is right? Mark, my brethren, the question is
not, what man will do; nor what, on account of his obstinacy,
it is necessary for God to do for him. But it is, what ought
man to do?  Ought he to do his utmost-ought he to do all
he can do? Yes. It is the voice of reason, the voice of conscience, the voice of men and of angels, it is the voice of the
God that made him, and that will judge him —HE OUGHT.
3. It is only by compliance with the precept in the text,
that man will perform his duty, and secure his salvation.
" Strive to enter in at the strait gate, for, I say unto you,
many will seek to enter in, and shall not be able." This
clearly implies that any thing short of striving will prove
utterly ineffectual. All who shall seek the favor of God and
eternal life without striving, i. e., seek these blessings without
that full, and vigorous, and appropriate exertion of all the
moral faculties of the soul, must fail of final salvation. This
is plain from the nature of the case. If duty is not seen, if
obligation is not felt, if the will or heart does not comply, no
obedience is, or can be rendered. The obedience which God
requires is the result of intelligence, and of a sense of obligation, and implies the homage of the heart. If, therefore, we
suppose either the understanding, or conscience, or heart to
fail in the performance of its appropriate part in any action,




AT THE STRAIT GATE.                 311
no duty is performed. A blinded mind, a seared conscience,
a hard, rebellious heart are, each and all, the just objects of
God's abhorrence. It is through failure in some one or all of
these respects, that so many seek salvation here, and will seek
to be admitted into heaven hereafter, who will be finally
thrust out by the awful sentence from the lips of the Judge:
"I know you not, whence ye are; depart from me, all ye
workers of iniquity."
On the other hand, the text clearly implies that they who
do strive to enter in, shall be able. Indeed, to suppose that
man should do his utmost to obey God, and yet not obey, and
thus fail of salvation, were alike absurd and impious. Absurd, because it supposes that man ought to do more than he
can do; and impious, because it makes God a hard master,
"reaping where he has not sowed, and gathering where he has
not strewed."  Besides, he who should exert himself to the
utmost extent of his powers, would perform what God requires; for his requisitions are exactly limited by the powers
of man. "'Thou shall love the Lord thy God with all thy
heart, and mind, and soul, and strength." Here, you see, the
very thing required is the moral energy of man, in the exercise of right affections toward God. If, then, we would obey
God's commandments, and obtain eternal life-if we would
not remain guilty of his whole law-if we would not live in
constant rebellion against the Almighty, and in constant. exposure to his wrath, we must bring all the powers and faculties
of the soul to the single point of duty, and ply their utmost
energies to its performance.
4. I would further enforce the injunction, from the case of
those who make no eforts to perform the duty, and the manner
in which the divine Spirit converts the sinner.
It is a momentous fact-a fact which, in one respect, even
after all the displays of mercy in the work of redemption,
saves this guilty world from the midnight of despair-that the
Spirit of God renews the heart of man through the truth.
"Of his own will begat he us with the word of truth."  The




312          ON STRIVING TO ENTER IN
very object, and the only object, for which the Spirit strives
with sinners, is to give truth its proper effect on the mind, the
conscience, and the heart; and the thing, and the only thing,
which he does, in regeneration, is actually to secure this effect.
But how? Does the Spirit of God give effect to truth, when
that truth is unthought of; and when the sinner effectually
shuts it away, alike from his understanding, and his conscience, and his heart?  Has such a thing ever been known
or heard of, in all the earth, that God has converted a stupid
sinner, continuing stupid? Is there one such on earth —one
such among the redeemed in glory?  Not one. Even the
miraculous conversion of Saul of Tarsus, was not effected till
he was an awakened, distressed sinner. Will God ever convert a sinner in this state? Convert them, when treating the
message of his grace with deliberate contempt and pointed
scorn-when they suffer their thoughts to roam to all the trifles
of earth and time, and never even compliment the message of
eternal mercy so much as to think of it?  And even, when
sounded in their ears by the voice of the living God, with all
its terrors and all its grace, make less of it than of the whistling of the breeze? Will the Spirit of God convert such sinners?  Nay more; I ask, can he convert them?  No. It
involves a contradiction in the very nature of things.  A
sinner love God, while he never thinks of God-a sinner believe in the Saviour, while he does not think of a Saviour?
The Spirit bring the sinner to do such things? Never. I care
not what else may be true of him, if he does not bring himself to this very point, the actual surrender of his heart to
God —he resists the Holy Ghost, and takes a most fearful step
toward everlasting damnation. Elect or non-elect, while he
sleeps in sin, God will not convert him. Elect or non-elect, so
sure as there is a hell, he is the victim of its indignation and
wrath, its tribulation and its anguish.
On the contrary, let the sinner awake to the great concern
of his salvation, and his case is not hopeless. Let the terrors
of God, which he has thrown around the idol of his heart,




AT THE STRAIT GATE.                  313
detach his affections from it-let him, under the pressure of
his necessities, as a guilty, self-ruined sinner, bring himself to
the point of complying with the terms of mercy-let him put
his understanding to some just apprehension of God, and of
the Saviour-let him open his conscience to the weight of his
obligations —let him ply his heart with the exercise of holy
affections-let him take it up as a concern now on hand, and
put himself to it with the urgency of a present achievement,
as that which may now be done, and which must be done, and
may as well be done now as ever, as that which, if it cannot
be done now, there is not a particle of reason to think it ever
can be done-let him thus put himself, the whole man, to the
point of duty; and who shall say, that it will not be done?
"Peradventure God will give him repentance." Neither man
nor angel can say, that in that same hour, or even moment,
such a sinner will not become an heir of God, and a joint heir
with Christ.
REMARn KS.
1. This subject shows us that the sinner may become a
Christian soon, and how he may do so.
It is thought by many to be a question of some difficulty,
" How shall I repent?" or " IIow shall I believe?" I answer,
first, not by remaining ignorant of what is to be done, nor of the
way to do it. Ignorance, mistake here, will be death. I answer
again, not as some very erroneously imagine, by waiting for
God to convert you. It is a very common mistake to suppose, that sinners are to take the attitude of passive reci pients
of grace, waiting for God to impart some  gift, they know not
what, but shall know when it comes; and are, in the mean time,
to look, and wish, and pray, till the blessing comes. Sad and
fatal mistake. Religion, whether it be called repentance, faith,
a new heart or love to God, is action, mental, moral action.
The sinner, to become the subject of either, must act it. What
the Holy Spirit does, is not to impart a gift merely to a passive subject, a mere receiver, but to move a free moral agent
Vol. 1. —14




314         ON STRIVING TO ENTER IN
to act-to act as a moral agent. And can it be, that all
the calls of mercy, and all the thunders of wrath which God
sounds in the ears of sleeping guilt, only say, " Sleep on; and
sleep away your hours of probation, waiting for the Holy
Ghost to convert you?" Oh, no, no, no, my hearers. The sinner must act, or the sinner must die. God will not repent for
him, nor love for him, nor believe for him. He must awake
and begin, and begin with the earnestness of a dying immortal falling into damnation. God tells you in every command of his authority and every entreaty of his love-and
every voice that speaketh from heaven says, " Strive to enter
in at the strait gate"-and every voice of truth on earth echoes
the mandate. And now, if you will not do your duty in the
way in which God has told you to do it, your case is hopeless.
This is the way, and the only way, in which it ever was,
or ever will be, or ever can be done. God can cause you to
do it in no other way. This is the very thing which the Spirit
of God strives to bring you to do. If you do not yield and
act in this manner you resist the Holy Ghost. Bring, then,
all your powers to the subject. Apprehend it; take hold of
it as it is. Have done with that idol of your heart. Resolve
to take care of your never-dying soul. Put yourself to the
point of renouncing sin-of fixing your heart on God —of committing your soul with affectionate confidence to the Lord
Jesus Christ. In this work suffer not your understanding, nor
your conscience, nor your heart, to fail in its fit and proper
exercise. Whatever you find to do-whatever your case requires of knowledge, of more knowledge-of feeling, of more
feeling-of decision, of more decision-of the going forth of
affection-whatever you find to do in these respects, do it.
Do it; because God tells you to do it. Do it; because if you
do it as well as you can do it, the work is done. Do it; because there is no other way of doing it. Do it; because
though imperfection may mar every effort, yet in this way, by
the grace of the Holy Spirit, you may become a child of God
and an heir of glory.




AT THE STRAIT GATE.                315
2. We see what a fearful condemnation awaits the impenitent sinner.
He is a complete moral agent-possessing all the powers of
a moral agent-which qualify for the exalted service and
exalted destiny of God's holy kingdom. This will be seen
and understood-this will be felt, when he stands before God
in judgment. It will be seen —it will be felt-that he was
made in God's own image-made to live and act with God,
amid the grandeurs of eternity —to be one with him in character and blessedness forever; and the inquiry will be, why
have you not loved the all-perfect God; why have you not
acted up to the high design of your being? Why, when the
character of the all-perfect God was exhibited as an object of
affection, why did you not love him? When invited by all
the excellence and sufficiency of Jesus the Saviour, did you
not trust in him? You have loved the world and sin, and
why did you not love the Judge on the throne?  And what
will he say?  Will he deny his moral agency; will he say, I
could not; " I knew thee, that thou wert an lhard master?" No;
he is now conscious of his power as a moral agent; he knows
that he ought to love God; and the same consciousness feltthe same fact revealed in the light of the last day-will cover
him with shame and confusion of face. But this is not all. It
will then appear that the Spirit of God had often entered his
heart when he read the Bible; when he heard those thousand
rumors; when his friends warned; when some providence
admonished him; when driven to his knees, in prayer, for
mercy. But it will also appear that he never made one effort
to give God his heart. He never did seriously and soberly
labor to renounce sin and the world; he never did strive to
make a complete surrender of himself to God; and thus he
resisted and grieved the IIoly Ghost,-thus, with the eyes of
the assembled universe-the eyes of his omniscient Judge
fixed upon him —his guilt will be uncovered, and his doom
pronounced: "Take the improfitable servant, bind him hand
and foot, and cast him into outer darkness. There shall be




316      ON STRIVING TO ENTER IN, ETC.
weeping and gnashing of teeth;" and, as he sinks under the
awful sentence, the assembled world will pronounce the solemn
Amen.         V
And now, my dear hearers, let me entreat and exhort those
who have no hope in Christ to obey the exhortation in the
text, " Strive to enter in at the strait gate."  Remember, that
whatever you do, unless yo-u aim to yield to the clainls of
God, you are fatally resisting the Holy Ghost. Remember,
that if you are ever converted by the Spirit of God, it will be
when, in view of God's glories, you are striving to give your
heart to him. Come, then, my hearers, and thus begin the
work of your salvation. Begin now. Summon all your
powers, and press them to the work of giving God your heart.
If the first attempt fail, repeat it, and repeat it again and
again, as often as it shall fail. When you go into your closet,
there make the solemn attempt to commit your soul to Christ.
If the attempt fails, repeat it with new and increased effort.
On this —oh, on thi8s —every thing depends. View yourself in
what light you will-as a moral agent, or as dependent on the
grace of God-this, this is the way. If you sleep in sin, you
are lost. If you try to give your heart to God, you may in
fact do it. By all your eternal interests, then, I beseech you,
if you would not abandon all hope of heaven-if you would
not compel -me to become as a swift witness against you, and
this humble attempt to rouse you to your duty, deepen the
accents of final vengeance, " strive to enter in at the strait
gate."  Bring your whole mind to the act of duty. Did I
know that this was the last call of mercy-the last moment of
your probation —still I would say, put yourself to the act of
duty. And should your first effort fail, and you have another
moment's respite, I would say, repeat that effort.: And did I
hear the noise of the coming judgment, and could I yet hope
that a moment more might be given you, still I would say,
repeat that effort, and repeat it till you can go to the judgment-seat, and say to the Judge of the quick and the dead,
that you have done all you can do.




XXIII.
SALVATION FREE TO THE WILLING.
REVELATION XXii. 17.
"And whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely."
IT is a striking instance of the goodness of God, that water,
one of the most necessary and valuable gifts of his bounty, is
so easily procured. And it is a no less striking instance of his
grace that the blessings of salvation may be obtained with
equal ease.
There is no image under which the freeness of the great
salvation, by Jesus Christ, is so often set before us by the inspired writers, and none which could more forcibly exhibit
the willingness with which it is bestowed. The text is one
instance in which the offer is made under this metaphor:
" Whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely."  The
declaration goes as far as plain common sense would naturally
understand it to go. His meaning is, that whosoever you
may be, pardon, peace, and eternal life are yours, if you are
willing to accept them.  "Whosoever will, let him take the
water of life freely;" or, as he declares in the preceding chapter, "I will give unto him that is athirst, of the fountain of
the water of life freely."
I design to showFirst, What it is to be willing to accept of salvation; and,
Second, That the blessing will be freely given to all who
are willing to accept it.
I. What it is to be willing to accept of salvation.
This point is important because it is frequently misunder



318     SALVATION FREE TO THE WILLING.
stood. To be willing, in the sense of the text, is not merely
to be willing to escape future misery. In this sense every
child of Adam, in proportion as he realizes his exposure to
suffering, is willing to escape it.
If this were the condition, every sinner would be saved, for
every sinner will sooner or later tremble at the wrath of God.
It cannot, therefore, be this sort of willingness that is meant
in the text. Nor can it be merely a willingness to be happy.
No person can take a serious look into eternity and not be
willing to be eternally happy. This desire may exist, and yet
be nothing more than a desire to enjoy the heaven of Mohammed-a heaven consisting of the pleasures of sin. This cannot
be the sort of willingness to which salvation is promised.
Something more than a desire to escape misery, and to obtain happiness, is implied in this willingness. It is this: the
sinner must be willing to accept of the salvation of the gospel
-to accept it as it is, not in some of its parts, but as a whole
-not something else, but this very thing. Now, the distinguishing features of the salvation of the gospel are, that it is
salvation by grace; salvation from sin; salvation through
faith in the Lord Jesus Christ. To be willing, therefore, to
accept of salvation, is to be willing to be saved by grace.
This implies the absolute and unqualified renunciation of our
own righteousness, a deep conviction of our own depravity
and guilt, and consequent desert of the wrath of God. No
man can be willing to accept of salvation, as altogether of
grace, who has a word to say about his good deeds, or his own
efforts of any sort.  All these must be abandoned as the
ground of acceptance, and he must be willing that God should
have all the glory of his salvation.
He must be willing to accept of salvation from sin. This is
a distinguishing feature of the salvation of the gospel. Christ
came into the world to save his people from their sins —to save
them not only from the wages of sin, but from its dominion.
To be willing to accept of his salvation, therefore, implies a
desire to be delivered from the dominion of sin. It implies a




SALVATION FREE TO THE WILLING.              319
hatred of sin for its own sake, and a desire after holiness for
its own sake; it implies a willingness to part with all for the
sake of conformity to the divine image; it implies that state
of the heart which chooses God and Christ and heaven as the
portion of the soul; which delights in the divine law, and in
the way of salvation in all its parts; which submits cheerfully
to the humbling doctrines and self-denying precepts of the
gospel; which desires the service of Christ because it is a
holy service; the happiness of heaven, because it is a holy
happiness. In a word, to be willing to be saved, in the sense
of the text, is to be willing to be all, and to do all, that the
gospel requires of those who partake in its salvation.
I proceed to showII. That the salvation of the gospel will be freely given to
every one who will accept it.
I design so to treat this part of our subject so as not only to
establish the truth, but to obviate objections.
1. There is no obstacle in the way of bestowing salvation
on such sinners, on the part of God.
By sin all mankind had become deserving of the penalty
of God's law, and had no way to escape the extremity of his
justice. Whatever might have been our speculations, our
hopes, our pleadings, there would be nothing more before us
but the righteous vengeance of God. But there was one in
heaven able to make atonement-a full, perfect, all-sufficient
atonement for the sins of men. He was willing to make it.
He has actually made it. The Son of God has died on the
cross.  He is a propitiation for the sins of the whole world.
Thus the gate of heaven is thrown open to guilty men. Pardon and eternal life are offered to all through the blood of
Christ. There is nothing on the part of God now to prevent
him from giving this salvation to every one of Adam's race,
who is willing to accept it, view the subject in what light you
please. Did the justice of God prevent? God can now be
just and the justifier of the ungodly. Did the law of God
prevent? That law is magnified and made honorable by the




320     SALVATION FREE TO THE WILLING.
very act of pardon. Did the truth of God?  Mercy and truth
have met together on the cross of Jesus. Did guilt, inherent
depravity, turn away the face of God's holiness from the sinner? He may be " washed and justified and sanctified in the
name of the Lord Jesus, and by the Spirit of our God." Search
and -scrutinize every severe attribute of the Godhead-scrutinize his purposes.. Look over the interests of his vast kingdom,
there is- nothing, nothing, to prevent the benevolence of God
from flowing forth in its largest, richest gifts of grace and salvation to the sinner, who is willing to receive them.
2. There is no obstacle on the part of sinners themselves.
The want of regeneration, or a change of heart, is no obstacle. This willing mind is the change of heart itself. The
want of conviction, of distress for sin, is no obstacle. He who
has had conviction and distress enough to accept the Lord Jesus
Christ as his Saviour, has had enough to answer the great end
of conviction. The greatness of the sinner's guilt is no obstacle. It is as easy, just as easy to save the great sinner as the
little sinner. No sinner is, nor can he be saved, for what he
is or for what he is not, for what he has done or for what he
has not done. He is and must be saved, solely on account of
what Christ has done, through the merits of his blood. And
that blood cleanseth from all sin. No crime is so deep, no
guilt so black, that the blood of Jesus cannot wash it all
away. Were all the guilt of the whole family of man embodied in a single heart, that blood could make it white as
snow. No human guilt can mock the efficacy of Jesus's
blood.
Nor is there any obstacle on account of the number of sinners. The language of the Saviour is, a "Look unto me and be
ye saved, all ye ends of the earth."  " He is a propitiation for
our sins.'," He gave himself a ransom for all." Not another
drop of his precious blood need have been shed, not another
pang need he have felt, that every one of our race, who has
lived, and who shall live, might be freely pardoned and saved.
There is room enough in heaven, and to snare. There is a




SALVATION  FREE TO THE WILLING.               321
crown of life for every one who is willing to wear it. There
is a throne of glory for every one who is willing to sit on it.
Nor is the want of reformation, or amendment, ally obstacle. Although no sinner will be saved without reformation of
life, yet no one will be saved on account of such reformation.
Every sinner who becomles interested in the great salvation of
the gospel will reform; his reformation may be evidence that
he is interested in it, but he does not become interested in it
by reforming. This is not the price, that he should become
better before he accepts of the offer. Hie Ileed not say-I have
nothing to give, as the price of this benefit; my stock is too
small to buy such an inheritance, and till it is better improved,.
it is in vain for me to expect the gift. No-these servicesthis sort of premium for the blessing of salvation is not wanted.
It is utterly needless in this respect. Christ will never dispose
of the blessing in this way. He need not be tempted by such
offerings. I-e never will accept an offering that in the least
degree takes the place of his atoning blood.  That's enough-:without them.
Nor is there any inability on the part of such sinners which
is an obstacle. It is often supposed by sinners, that they are
willing to accept, but are not able. But this is a sad mistake.
What is it to accept, but to be willing to receive a gift, and
why not as able to accept as to refuse an offered gift  Nothing is fairly off'ered to any man, in whom something more is
needful to his accepting it, than a willingness to accept it.in
view of its true nature. What should we think of a man who
should offer his charity to a poor sufferer, who was famishing
for the want of it, who had no hand to take it; and is this the
offer of salvation which the gospel makes? Is this the treatinent of Christ toward sinners, for whom he died? Does he hold
out the blessings of his death to perishing immortals, and yet
withdraw them from their willing acceptance?  In all the overtures of his mercy, and entreaties of his love, does the Lord,
Jesus Christ thus tantalize our wants, and mock our wretched.
ness? Who dare say it?
14*                                        21




322      SALVATION  FREE TO TIHE WILLING.
Is it here said: why tell us that the blessing is freely offered
to him who is willing to accept it, when no sinner can be willing, without grace to make him willing?  I answer, first, because he can be willing, and ought to be willing, and deserves
to be damned, because he is not willing. And I answer further, that although by his perverseness, he has rendered the
grace of God necessary, he has no warrant to say, or think,
that the want of grace is, or can be, the true and proper cause
of his unwillingness.  He grieves the Holy Ghost by his very
nnwillingness- he perversely struggles against and away firom
this highest and most powerful influence that the God of
mercy can use-and shall he throw the blame on God? But
I have another thing to say. Peradventure God will give him
repentance. Let him awake to sober consideration, let him
make one honest effort, and put himself in earnest to this act
of giving himself to Christ, and no voice of truth, in heaven
or earth, can say he will not do it. Thus the path of the sinner's return to God's everlasting friendship is cleared of every
obstacle. Heaven's gate is thrown open to the guiltiest, and
the smile of God, who is love, invites acceptance of the great
salvation.
3. The sinner has nothing to give for the blessing.
Not only would every thing be unnecessary, utterly useless,
if he had it, but he has nothing. If, therefore, he receives this
blessing, it must be freely given. The sinner has nothing to
give for his salvation. IIe has broken the divine law in every
instance of moral conduct, and he. cannot mend it. Present
obedience can only fulfill present obligation. We might as
well suppose that past obedience would atone for present sins,
as that present obedience can atone for past trangression.,But
a child knows that present obedience can neither annihilate
nor lessen the guilt of what is past. Present duty, though
absolutely perfect, can do no more than answer for itself.
Tell your creditor, that you will run no more into arrears, and
will he give you a receipt in full for that? Acceptance, theren
fore, on the ground of law, of that law which requires us to




SALVATION  FREE TO THE WILLING.               323
"love the Lord our God with all our heart," which demands
the universal and unceasing operation of this principle in
every thought, word and action, must, with regard to every
individual, be entirely and forever out of the question. The
blot of a single sin, on a character as pure as that of an angel,
would seal his condemnation.  " Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things which are written in the book of the
law to do them."
Beyond this, if the sinner has, or can have any thing to
offer, as the price of his salvation, why is a Saviour provided?
And if one sinner may obtain acceptance, all may-a world
may-and why then has Jesus died? Why, when the blessed
Redeemer, the object of unmingled approbation and love,
thrice prayed, " Father, if it be possible, let this cup pass fronm
me," why was he permitted to drink it, even to its bitterest
dregs? Was it for no purpose? Was it because the Father
delighted in the agonies of the Son? Why, then, I ask, was it
that Jesus bowed his head on the cross? Ah! my hearers, let
the sinner look at that cross-let him consider well the price
of salvation, and then say if he can pay it.
Further, let it be told what the sinner can offer for his acceptance.  Can he offer his repentance? While lie is unwilling to accept of salvation, as a free gift, he has none to offer.
His faith?  While thus unwilling, he has no faith.  IIis
prayers? But the "sacrifice of the wicked is an abomination
to the Lord."  His tears, his anxiety, his distress?  "They
that are in the flesh cannot please God;" "The carnal mind is
enmity against God." All its offerings, therefore, must be
impure-whatever the sinner does with such a heart, must be
offensive in the sight of God. I-Ie must still lie at the feet
of uncovenanted mercy.  Infinite purity cannot commune
with pollution-no, not in a single instance. An enemly of
God cannot commend himself to the favor of the Searcher of
hearts by pretense and mockery. I-e still hates his God, and
still deserves his wrath. I-e has a thousand times pierced the
heart of redeeming love-lie still does it; and still deserves




324     SALVATION FREE TO THE WILLING.
the wrath of the Lamb. The case is hopeless. Ite cannot
give the least thing for his salvation. If given to him at all,
it must be given freely.
4. God is willing, even solicitous, that sinners should comply with the conditions of this salvation, that he may give
them the blessing.
Hear the voice of God, addressed to every sinner: "Oh!
that they were wise, that they understood this, that they
would consider their latter end;" " Oh! that thou hadst
known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things which
belong, unto thy peace;" " Turn ye, turn ye, for why will ye
die?" "H How shall I give thee up, Ephrairn, my heart is turned
within me, my repentings are kindled together?"  Now, is all
this only a display of unreal feeling-delusive pathos on the
part of God?  God gives express and unequivocal assuranceshe has revealed himself a God ready to pardon —he declares
that he would have all men to be saved-that he is not willing
that any should perish, but that all should come to the knowledge of the truth. And lest these assurances should not satisfy,
he hath sworn by himself, saying: " As I live, saith the Lord,
I have no pleasure in the death of the wicked."  Is the living
God a deceiver-is he perjured?
The means which God uses for our salvation speak the same
language. The remonstrances of conscience, the declarations
of his word, the dispensations of his providence, the display
of heavenly glories, the denunciation of endless misery, are so
many barriers with which his mercy has guarded the passage
to destruction. The transgressor must force them all before
he can seize on death. At every step toward ruin, a voice is
wafted to his ear, in the groans of damnation: "O come not
to this place of torment."  The voice of God is heard saying,
" Why will ye die?"
As decisive proof of this point, I will only point you to the
work of redeeming love. Why did God redeem this world?
Why this expense-why this mightiest muiracle of God, this
spectacle of wrath and mercy-why this joy in heaven, that




SALVATION FREE TO THE WILLING.:    325'
makes all its pillars tremble-why these drops of blood in
Gethsemane-why this soul of the Son of God exceeding sorrowful, even unto death-why these arrows of the Almighty,
the poison whereof drinketh up his spirit-why this prayer
with his dying breath, for his murderers —why, the sounding
of these bowels which still yearn over lost sinners-why these
heavenly accents of entreaty still repeated-why this Holy
Ghost now touching your hearts, and striving to melt them
into submission? Is there a sinner here willing to be saved,
and God not willing to save him?
5. The direct promises of God settle the truth of our position.
These, as contained in explicit declarations, and as blended
with the tenderest invitations of mercy, abound in the inspired
volume. " In the last day, that great day of the feast, Jesus
stood and cried, saying, If any man thirst, let him come unto
me and drink. I am the Alpha and the Omega, the beginning
and the end; I will give to him that is athirst of the fountain
of the water of life, freely. Ho, every one that thirsteth,
come ye to the waters; and he that hath no money, come ye,
buy and eat-yea, come buy wine and milk, without money
and without price. Wherefore do ye spend your money for
that which is not bread, and your labor for that which satisfieth not. Hearken diligently unto me, and eat ye that which
is good, and let your soul delight itself in fatness. Incline
your ear, and come unto me; hear, and your soul shall live.
And the Spirit and the bride say, Come. And let him that
heareth say, Come, and let him that is athirst, come; and whosoever will, let him take the water of life freely."
REMARIKS.
1. How reasonable are the terms of salvation.
Sinners are very apt to regard the terms of salvation as
hard and difficult, and to persuade themselves, if it were not
so, they certainly should comply with them. But what are
these terms? They are, it is true, variously described in the




3206    SALVATION FREE TO THE' WILLING.
gospel; but they are all contained in this owhosoever will. A
new heart, faith, repentance, love, are substantially but one
and the same thing, and that is a willing mind. And, surely,
there cannot be easier terms of obtaining a blessing thail
merely to be willing to accept it. What is there hard in this?
What is the difficulty?  Is not "the way of transgressors
hard?"  Are not the "ways of wisdom pleasantness, and all
her paths peace?" Is it not more easy and more pleasant to
submit to the living God than to rebel against him? Is it not
more easy and more delightful to tread the bright path to
heaven than to stumble on in the dark way to perdition? Is
it not easier and more delightful to listen to the voice of God's
authority, the invitations of redeeming grace, to be cheered
with the visits of divine mercy —to be protected and upheld
by the everlasting arms-to triumph over death-to rise to
heaven, and wear a crown of immortal glory, than to break
through calls, and warnings, and Sabbaths, and Bibles-the
entreaties of men, and angels, and God, and Christ, to walk
all the way to hell on the blood of Jesus, and to dwell there
in the lake of fire, forever?  What, then, so hard in being
willing to do this. Where is the difficulty 2 Let this matter,
my hearers, be fairly tried at the bar of conscience. Where
and what is the difficulty? What terms, if it were left with
you to settle, would you prefer? On what terms would you
accept of salvation?  Would you undertake a tedious pilgrimage-would you consent to suffer, by sickness or by torture, for a season —would you pay a farthing for the blessing?
It is yours on easier terms-it is yours for accepting it. What
more can be asked? Here in the name, and by the authority
of the living God-here in this book is my commission-I
offer you eternal life. Will you accept it? Take it, take it
freely; it is yours. The God of truth has said it; and, fellowsinner, can you complain now that this is hard?
2. We see how absurd it is for sinners to attempt to obtain
the salvation of the gospel, in any way, except by becoming
willing to accept it.




SALVATION FREE TO THE WILLING.    327
It is a very common mistake of such persons, that they
must begin with a course of awakening and conviction, and
go through with a process of anxiety and distress for days and
weeks, perhaps months, before they can even think of becoming interested in this salvation. Now, in answer to all this,
the gospel declares that this salvation will be freely given to
those who, knowing what it is, are willing to receive it. And
that it will be given to no other. The great thing, and the
only thing, is to be willing. All that thinking and feeling
which is necessary to, and involved in becoming willing is,
of course, to be done. I'll tell you, fellow-sinner, what you
must do. You must have a just apprehension of this salvation, and then be willing to accept it. This you z must do, or
die. Say not this is hard. It is reasonable-it is right that it
should be hard. "There is no peace,'" saith God, "to the
wicked," and there ought to be none. What more or what
else can be said, when the terms are as low as they can bewhen salvation is urged upon your acceptance in every way,
and by every possible motive, and you will not accept itwhen you had rather die than take it freely, what more can
be said, than that die you will, die you. qnust, and die you
ought. God, and angels, and men, and devils, and your own
conscience say, and will say to all eternity, Amen; it is right.
And, now, my dear hearers, what is your purpose to-day?
Yes, to-day; for to-morrow may be too late. The salvation of
the gospel is a free salvation. To him that is willing to receive it, it shall be freely given. It has been bought by the
sacrifice of God's beloved Son, and it is offered to all. It shall
be given to all who will accept it. Salvation for sinners, salvation from endless woe, salvation from sin, salvation with
eternal glory. It is brought to each of you. It is no false,
delusive offer. The very Saviour who died for you makes itit is urged upon your acceptance. That you may accept it,
this Sabbath shines upon you; that you may accept it, this
sanctuary has again opened its doors. A present God is here
to meet you with the gift. Jesus, with the same love and




328     SALVATION FREE TO THE WILLING.
pity that brought him from heaven to die for you, entreats
you to take it. Saints lift their souls to God in earnest longings for you. Angels have stopped their songs, and tremble
with holy impatience, to witness your decision. Hell itself
is moved with anxiety, while the treasures of eternal glory are
laid at your feet. And now, while the Father thus holds out
the scepter of forgiveness, and Jesus, by all his groans, and
agonies, and blood, entreats you to accept the offer; and the
eyes of all heaven and hell are fixed upon you.-how solemn
the moment-how tremendous your decision!  Come, then,
and accept the offered blessing, come and be willing to accept
it. Come, just as you are, poor, polluted, vile as you are.
Test the sincerity of the Saviour, who died for you. There is
no mistake here. Take eternal life, take it without offering,
or thinking to offer the least price for it. Reject the thought,
for the blood of Christ hath purchased it already. Take it,
therefore, if you will; you do nothing but abuse his mercy,
and provoke his patience till you do this. Take, then, the gift.
I take you to record, my dear hearers, before God again,
that the offer of eternal life has been repeated to you; you
see clearly that it is freely offered; and now if you reject it,
remember that you have again slighted an offered Jesus. Remember it when you rise from your seat; remembzer it when
you pass the threshold of that door; remnemnber it when you
enter your dwelling; rememzber it when you lie down to rest
at night; remenzber it when you rise in the morning; remember
it when employed in the business of the week..Remember
when the voice of eternal truth said, " Whosoever will, let him
take the water of life freely," you replied, I will not take it.




XXIV.
THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO TtIE LOST.
2 CORINTHIANS iv. 3.
"But if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are lost."
THi]RE is one fact of which, notwithstanding our familiarity
with it, we cannot think without wonder, that a being so
great as God-a Saviour so full of mercy as his Son-realities
so momentous as heaven and hell, should be presented in the
light of divine revelation, and yet by men whose every interest they involve, should, to every practical purpose, be
overlooked and unseen.  Still more wonderful is this fact,
when we reflect that the things of the gospel are presented to
no mind without producing at least a measure of conviction of
their truth and reality. Strange, however, as it appears, this
revelation itself declares the fact and unfolds its solution.
" Light is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather
than light, because their deeds were evil. For every one
that doeth evil hateth the light, neither cometh to the light,
lest his deeds should be reproved." Sin has put a covering of
thick darkness on the mind, and thus maintains its gloomy and
obstinate resistance to the very gospel of God.
It may be remarked, generally, concerning those to whom
the gospel is hid in the sense of the text, that they live under
its external light, and have, as all such persons do have, at
least some secret convictions of its truth. The apostle is not
speaking of those to whom the gospel has never been sent. In
the context he asserts the zeal and fidelity of himself and of
his fellow-laborers in preaching that gospel.  " Not walking,"




330      THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST.
says he, " in craftiness, nor handling the word of God deceitfully; but by manifestation of the truth, commending ourselves to every man's conscience in the sight of God;" and
then adds, "but if our gospel be hid, it is hid to them that are
lost"-who are perishing-who are under those influences
which lead to perdition. In the original, they are those who
are peri8s/ng-in a state in which the process of destruction
is begun. The causes of perdition are in full operation, and
the work of their perdition is begun already and going on.
They to whom the gospel comes in such circumstances, and
who refuse to eater into the spirit and design of it, are in a
state most fearfully dangerous. So abundant, so overwhelming is the light which is shed from the gospel wherever i~t
comes, that none can be in darkness for want of the medium
of vision. Nay, so irresistible is that gospel in its efficacy,
that it does infallibly secure for itself and those who preach
it the approbation of every man's conscience. After all, it is
quite another thing to perceive the truths of the gospel in their
true nature; quite another thing so to perceive the spiritual
truths of the sacred record of God, that they shall come home
to every feeling of the man with full effect.  If to those to
whom the gospel is sent-to those who are surrounded by its
light, and who, in their consciences, whatever they may profess with their lips, are forced to acknowledge its truths-if
to them that gospel be hid-if they are blind to that gospel in
its practical bearing-blind to its truths in their nature and
excellency, and weight, and glory-if they never see the things
revealed as they are —if they never enter that region of light
where the objects of faith are invested with the bright coloring and controlling aspect of realities-and where these objects
bring to the mind and the heart their true and appropriate
influence-they are in a state which fearfully forebodes final
perdition.
My design is to show- -
First, To whom the gospel is hid.
Second, The danger of their condition.




THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST.              331
I. The gospel is hid to those who deny its divine authority.:1. No man to whom the manifestation of the truth has been
mnade, has ever been able, to the satisfaction of his own mind,
to disprove the Bible. MIany, indeed, have ventured on an
open professed denial of its authority. But to the strongest
convictions and boldest asseverations of its falsehood, has still
adhered the misgiving, harassing suspicion —this may be
the truth of God; these may be the only overtures of reconciliation firom an offended God, the very language of the
supreme Lawgiver and final Judge of men. The dying horrors
of such men as Voltaire and Paine are decisive on this point.
Such men have rendered no trivial homage to the gospel by
anticipations of its doom in that honest hour. The darkness
of the infidel, then, is not that which consists in the want of
external light, nor yet that which results from the want of an
inward conviction that the gospel is true. That light penetrates even his benighted mind, and in an honest hour extorts,
in open confession, the homage which his conscience always
secretly renders to the truth of the gospel. Yet there is a
sense most clearly in which the gospel is hid to the infidel.
For example, has lie any of those views or perceptions of the
Lord Jesus Christ which his gospel claims?  Has he who
plans a war of extermination against Christianity and its
Autlior-who summons his hosts to the onset, by the watchword, " Crush the wretch"- has lie formed any just views of
the revealed character of the Son of God?  Has he ever
caught even a glimpse of the glory of him whom saints and
angels adore?  Over this scene of manifestation his eye hath
never passed. To all the loveliness of the Saviour; to all the
beauty of his precepts; to all the moral power of his doctrines,
he is as practically blind as had no revelation been made.
2. The gospel is hid to those who are ignorant of its peculiar doctrines.
Almost every man has formed for himself some schemle of
religion, imagined some terms of acceptance with God, but
which in most cases are not derived from the gospel, and are




332      THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE  LOST.
as unlike what is there revealed as are the lessons of the
Alkoran. They have formed such inadequate views of their
own character as sinners-of the character and law of God,
and of the relations which they sustain to him-have adopted
principles of nloral reasoning so opposite to the truth, which
have become so inwrought into all their conceptions by habit,
that they cannot renounce them-that when the peculiar doctrines of the gospel are presented, and come to be tried by
their preconceived opinions and modes of thought, these doctrines appear dark and mysterious, or absurd and self-contradictory. There is no previous preparation of mind to discern
the truth and bearing of the peculiarities of the gospel; there
is in their notions and principles no adjustment, but direct
contrariety to the truth as it is in Jesus; and of course all the
avenues, both of the understanding and the heart, are shut
and barred against it. Let the faithful preacher of the gospel
tell such a man that the gospel pronounces him an enemy of
God, and builds its whole superstructure of doctrine and precept on the existence of such a controversy between man and
his Maker; let the necessity of pardon through the blood of
the appointed Mediator, the necessity of regeneration by the
Spirit of God, and other distinguishing truths of the gospel be
insisted on; and all this is so directly opposed to his preconceived opinions, that he cannot understand, he cannot receive
it. God he does not hate, he has squared his conduct to the
strict rules of morality; a mediator he does not need, or at least
only partially. In a word, so totally inadequate and false are
his notions, that the whole gospel sounds as strangely and as
obscurely as if it were preached in an unknown tongue. Such
men are intellectually blind; blind to the whole scope and
character of Christianity. And, although the truth may at
times flash plainly and powerfully into this midnight of error,
yet it there meets with fatal repulsion fromn the heart, and the
cloud of darkness settles on the mind in all its blackness. To
every such person "the gospel is hid."  From the ignorance
of his understanding moral darkness is inseparable. And let




THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST.              333
him be told that to those spiritual perceptions of Christian
truth which secure its practicad ascendency, he is as really a
stranger as the most benighted heathen.
3. The gospel is hid to all those who do not obey it, however extensive and correct may be their views of its doctrines.
In every congregation, we find persons who are well taught
in the great truths of the gospel, but who, after all, derive
firom them no true and appropriate influence. Indeed, it is
impossible to assign the limit to which the acquisition of religious knowledge, in its speculative views, may be carried,
and yet the gospel be hid in the midst of these high attainments. A man may not only know that the Bible is the book
of God, and be spiritually blind to its contents; but he may
learn the number of chapters and verses-may be minutely
acquainted with its facts-may compare Scripture with Scripture; nay, may understand its doctrines and precepts-be able
to demonstrate its truths with the powrer, acuteness, and learning of the most accomplished theologian-all this, and more
may be true of him; and still he may know only the letter,
and absolutely nothing of the spirit, of the gospel. He may
still carry in his bosom a heart untouched by a single truth
which that gospel-which he knows so well —has revealed.
lie may still be unshaken from any one attachment to the
world, and an utter stranger to the power of those divine
truths, which give to him that feels them the high character
of a co-worker with God. Nor is this mere hypothesis. It is
what occurs within our constant observation. IhIow common
is it to find, for example, persons who admit the being and
perfection of an omnipresent God, and yet live in all the sinful stupidity and unconcern of habitual darkness! The light
which beams from  the objects of sense and sight completely
overpowers the light that beams from this object of faith.
The world, and the world only is seen; and though God may
be occasionally thought of, and his presence and attributes be
confessed, yet the trifles and vanities of the world are enough
to exclude, in every practical respect, the very thought of a




334      THE GOSPEL HIDDEN  TO THE- LOST.
present Deity. The man thinks, and reasons, and feels, and
acts, just as he would do had no ray of light from the eternal
throne ever reached him. The broad daylight of the world
obscures and hides every just view of God, and excludes every
right conception of that awful majesty and glory that surrounds him in full manifestation at every step.
To illustrate in another example. Here is a man who admits into his creed without hesitation, and with the clear discriminations of the soundest orthodoxy, all which the Scriptures affirm of himself, of the law of God, of its precepts and
its curse-all that is said of the character and work of Christ,
and of the world to come. But to the power of all this truth
he is dead; no trace of its efficacy can be found in his heart,
or in his life. It is only to the power of this world's interests
and pleasures that he is alive. He has never been humbled
as a sinner —never trembled at the deserved, acknowledged,
and approaching curse of the Almighty —never derived from
all that lie has seen a feeling impression that he needs a
Saviour. Is not some manifestation of truth, which he has
never had, necessary in his case to secure to that truth its practical energy on the manl?  Has not the obedient believer had
some revelation which he has not had; and must there not be
a revelation to him -I do not say of new truths, of things not
clearly advanced in the written record-but a revelation that
shall throw over these truths the character of realities; must
there not be some perception of these things as realities, of
their real nature and relation to him, of their weight and
glory, that shall enable him to withstand the commanding influence of the things of sight and sense? Mfost unquestionably. He who dies to the world, and lives to God, must live
under that peculiar manifestation of divine things by which
they become visible to the mind, and are brought home with
their appropriate energy on the heart. Where the latter is
wanting, the former is. Where the effect is not, the cause is
not. In this high and important respect, therefore, the gospel
is hid to all who do not obey it.




THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO TIlE LOST.            335
Having thus shown to whom the gospel is hid, I proceed to
showII. The danger of their condition.
This will appear, if we consider1. That the blindness of those to whom the gospel is hid,
is voluntary and criminal.
It cannot be ascribed to the want of light. There is not a
single truth in the Bible seen by him whose understanding is
opened to understand the Scriptures, which may not be seen
by them whose minds are "alienated from God through the
the ignorance that is in them." The word of God is ever the
same. The difference is: one sees these things as they are,
the other does not. The question is, why does he not?  And
the answer is, because "he hateth the light, neither comleth
to the light, lest his deeds should be reproved."  Why, in the
language of an apostle, is the "understanding darkened?"why are men thus " alienated from the life of God, through
the ignorance that is in them 2" Because, as he tells us, " of
the blindness of the heart." The appeal to common sense and
common experience is equally decisive. Why is it that men
contrive so absolutely to exclude God from their thoughts, and
remain as free from every impression of God, and every affectionate regard for him, as were there no God? They hide the
glory of that Being who is present in all the scenes of earth,
and in all the paths and abodes of men, behind the shadows
and visions of this material world. And why is this, except
they choose to do so?  What but the want of a willing mind,
a heart to welcome and desire the divine presence, prevents
any one from marking the footsteps of God wherever he goes,
and living under a continual sense of his presence? Nothing.
It is voluntary blindness. The same remarks substantially
apply to every truth of the gospel. If any thing approaching a right conception of its truths enters a sinner's mind, his
preference for the world drives it all away from him. To
him the Saviour -"hath no form nor comeliness."  The faintest
glimpse of the sun of righteousness awakens disgust, and he




336     THIE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST.
turns away his eyes, or shuts them on his meridian splendors.
The blinded sinner, tllerefore, is in danger of perdition, because
he deserves it.
2. HIis danger is increased by the measure of light and evidence which he resists. " This is the condemnation, that light
is come into the world, and men loved darkness rather than
light, because their deeds were evil." In proportion to the
light is the guilt of him that rejects it. And such an augmentation of guilt does the light of the gospel, when hated by
the carnal heart, bring with it, that Christ declares that the
Jews without his instructions had not had sin. The gospel is
light. It sets before us the things that belong to our peace as
they are. It carries with it evidence of its truth, which no
honest mind can resist. It discovers to us in the beanming
effulgence of mid-day, tile glories of God, the beauties of holiness, the evil of sin, and the amazing interests of eternity. It
unfolds to our own inspection the recesses of our hearts, the
duties we owe to God and man; it sheds the luster of noon on
the path of life, and brings into full view the Saviour of sinners. And what is the effect? Men love darkness rather than
light; they hate the light. What can more aggravate guilt,
and augment danger, than thus to contemn and hate a revealed
God and Saviour? What malignity of sin, what a dark and
settled depravity must that be which can thus maintain its
dominion, amid the realities disclosed by this light from
heaven? What a mighty influence has the God of this world
over the mind of that man, whom he thus holds in allegiance,
when the majesty and glory of the Eternal stand in visible
array before him! What a fearful prelude to everlasting perdition is such a state of mind as this!
3. No other means will be used for his salvation but those
which have been tried and proved ineffectual. Unless that
gospel which is hid from the sinner-unless that gospel, from
whose truths he derives no salutary impression, become the
power of God to his salvation, nothing can. A new gospel
will not be given. Here God has revealed the only overtures




THE GOSPEL HIDDEN  TO THE LOST.              337
of mercy, here he has fixed the terms of salvation, and here
he has presented that truth, which only can bring the sinner
to comply. But this gospel —this truth is hid; not hid as a
matter of speculation —not hid by an honest conviction that it
is false, but while acknowledged to be true, and in many instances understood in theory-hid in its practical energy —hid
as a revelation of realities which are designed to affect human
feeling and human action!-hllid, therefore, to them  that are
lost! Of whom is there not hope if there is of such persons-?
They believe the truth, and yet they do not believe it. They
see it, and yet do not see it; they believe and see it in every
sense except that which gives it its practical power. In this
they believe nothing-see nothing. The truth is perceived by
the understanding, and has commended itself to the conscience,
but the blindness of the heart still muaintains its gloomy and;
obstinate resistance. They believe it in every sense which can
create responsibility, enhance guilt, and secure perdition, and
that is all. -Amid the revealed perfections and glories of God,
the fullness and excellency of Christ, and all that gives to eternity its importance, there is no practical reality but the world.
To all the truths which spread transport through heaven, and
terror throug-h hell, there is indeed a firank acknowledgment,
but an utter blindness and insensibility. And, I ask, if they
are thus blind to truth; if they can confess the majesty and
glory of God, when presented in visible manifestation before
them; if they can see and acknowledge that the claims of their
Redeemer are brought to them by the actual presence of their
Redeemer, and yet remain blind to the perception of the
reality; if they can admit that heaven and hell are opened
before them, that death is at hand, their final Judge at the
door, and yet slumber on; if all the appointed means of impression are thus counteracted, and nothing new will be furnished-I ask, if such men are not outcasts of condemnation?
I ask, if such fearful results alone are realized on the soul from
things like these, if that soul is not lost?
1. Because in danger of being given up of God, to continued
Vol. I. -15                                 22




338     THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST.
ignorance and error. That there are those who are lost in this
higher sense, the Scriptures leave no room to doubt. Who
were those who excited the exclamation of the compassionate
Saviour -"If thou hadst known, even thou, at least in this
thy day, the things which belong unto thy peace! but now
they are hid from thine eyes?" Who are those to whom God
will send "'strong delusions that they should believe a lie,"
but they who " received not the love of the truth?"
And now, in conclusion, permit me to express to you the
painful conviction, that the gospel which we preach is hid
from many of you. The point to be settled is not merely
whether any of you are open and avowed infidels; if that be
your character, there is no question remaining whether the
gospel in every practical sense be hid to you; nor is it merely
whether through the influence of preconceived opinions, you
do not understand and receive the great and distinguishing
doctrines of Christianity; in this case one point is equally
plain-to you the gospel is hid. But you may not only believe
the gospel you may have embraced the exactest orthodoxy,
you may welcome the preacher who deals in the plain and
just exhibitions of God's truth, you may admire the power of
his eloquence, you may allow the truth of all that he says, and
yield to his discourses a solemn and deep attention, a momentary conviction may flash the truth he utters upon the mind,
and carry a thrilling influence to the conscience,-but, my
hearers, there is still a question between you and your Godwhat is the effect on your heart? Do the objects presented
by his gospel, fix and settle on your spirit with the substance
and weight of realities? Are you doers of the word as well
as hearers? You believe the gospel of God, but where is the
fruit of your faith? Where and how do appear the effects
of that gospel, seen and felt in all the energies of its momentous truths? Alas, my hearers, when we come to you, and
look around upon you, Sabbath after Sabbath, and after all
the respect you show by your attendance and your attention,
we are constrained to regard the great majority of you as list



THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST.              339
less and unconcerned about the things of eternity, as obstinately alienated from God, as firmly devoted to the world, your
farm, your money and your merchandise; after all our serl
mons and addresses, all the light from heaven that beams upon
you, we find the power of darkness still upon you, we find
your spirit as firmly locked in the dark and gloomy prisonhold of sin, as ever; we find you knowing enough, and believing enough, to strip you of all excuse to augment the measure
of your guilt, and to sink you to the lowest pit of damnation!
And if there is one on whom we look with emotions of pity
and distress which we cannot utter, it is upon that man who
is adorned with all the amiable decencies of worldly morality,
is receiving the everlasting gospel as eternal truth, reading,
learning its instructions, and treasuring them up in his intellect, and is yet carrying in his bosom a heart unmoved by its
influence, uncheered by its consolations, unshaken from his
sordid attachment to earth, and dead to those truths whose
ennobling, sanctifying power would make him a fit companion
of his God! This is the man onl whom the full experiment of
the appointed means of salvation has been made to no purpose; this is the man who assumes the unchristian attitude of
admitting all that God has said, and yet despises and braves
it all in the acknowledged presence of h]is Maker and his
Judge; this is the man whose weekly acculmulation of guilt
we cannot compute, and whose fearful exposure to the aggravated doom of despising the acknowledged gospel of God we
cannot conceive; this is the man upon who(m all that we can
say, on the authority of the infinite God, has no nmore effect
than the feeble lispings of infancy; who well nigh fills us
with discouragement and despair! Aird such, my dear hearers, are some of you. But we will not abandon you in despair.
From that power of corruption and blindness that maintain
their resistance to the light of salvation, we would learn with
a deepened impression, that our sufficiency is not of ourselves,
but of God; we would feel that another and higher power
must be brought to act on this mass of resistance. In your




340    THE GOSPEL HIDDEN TO THE LOST.
behalf, and for the success of our ministry, we say to all who
can plead for the covenanted grace of God, "Brethren, pray
for us;" and pray "'God, who commanded the light to shine
out of darkness, shine into your hearts, to give you the light
of the knowledge of the glory of God, in the face of Jesus
Christ."
And now what must you do?  I answer, one thing you
must not- do. You: must not so engross the mind, thought,
sensibility, feeling, affection, hope, desire-the whole manwith this world and the things of it. Go on doing this, and
you can never see the objects of the gospel-the objects of
holy affection, as you must see them. Go on doing this, and
you can never comply with the terms of life. Go on doing
this, yielding thought, feeling, and affection to earth and to
vanities, and you will live in the veriest midnight, even amid
the splendors of the light of life. Go on doing this, and you
die. What, then, must you do? You must give the mind to
some sober contemplation of the things of God's revelation.
Give yourself to that solemn pondering of these things, till
your convictions of truth shall give reality to truth, till it shall
take hold of sensibility, and prompt to action. Think of God,
and love him. Think of sin  hate and renounce it. Think
of the Saviour, and trust your soul to his mnercy. Think of
discipleship to Christ, of the character, the duties, the hopes,
the prospects of a Christian-and be a Christian.




XXV.
THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN.
LUKxE xviii. 10.
"Two men went up into the temple to pray; the one a Pharisee and the other
a publican."
IT would seem, that if:men:: would ever form:a:just estimate
of their own character, it would be when standing in the, acknowledged presence of God. -So erroneous, however, is the
standard by which multitudes judge of themselves-so prone
and so accustomed are they to, think better of themselves than
they ought to think-that they can carry their.equivocation
and concealment-to the very throne of Omniscience. Nor do I
know that.we ought much to wonder, if men who have never
compared themselves with the spiritual requisitions of the
law of God, and who, in its stead, substitute as a standard the
average moral character of the world around them, approach
the very mercy-seat of God in the attitude of proud self-sufficiency.
The gates of this sanctuary have been again opened for the
admission of those who choose to enter its courts. -The footof the hypocrite did not stumble as he passed the sacred
threshold, nor is the tongue of the profane and the haughty
sinner withered in the midst of these devotions. To the eye
of human inspection the incense of our prayers, and -praises hasseemed to mingle and to rise with acceptance before the object of our worship.  But there is an eye whichl has penetrated every disguise and searched every heart. God knows
the heart of every professed worshiper in. his presence, -and




342       THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN.
doubtless sees in each substantially the spirit of the Pharisee
or the spirit of the publican. It may help us to know ourselves, to consider particularly the spirit and character ascribed
to these two men.
The Pharisee, as the parable describes him, "stood and
prayed thus with himself." The pride and self-exaltation of
this man appear in the very posture he assumes. "He stood
and prayed." Mere posture, indeed, can have no influence in
itself, to render our supplications more or less acceptable to
God. Still, circumstances may be such that the posture shall
strikingly evince the temper of the heart. The posture of
standing, for example, as in this case, may evince a spirit of
high self-complacency, and a desire to be seen of men, and to
be noted for great sanctity in devotion. So, too, the posture
of kneeling in other circumstances, may just as plainly bespeak the same spirit. Still many a sinner to whom it has
been proposed to kneel with others in the act of supplication
has found, and doubtless many, were it proposed to them to
enter their closets and assume this attitude of a suppliant,
would find, that like the Pharisee, they have a heart too proud
thus to bow the knee before the footstool of the Almighty.
Each one can ascertain how the fact is in his own case, by
making the experiment.
The Pharisee "prayed with himself."  The phrase denotes
the inward thought of his mind, the secret estimation of himself, made in an ostensible act of worship, and thus indicates
that pride and self-complacency, which occupied his mind with
himself, to the exclusion of the God whom he professed to
worship. This state of mind is exhibited substantially by
thousands, occupied with the conceit of their moral superiority
to others, and who thus quieting the reproaches of conscience,
can thank God with the same thoughtless flippancy of compliment, and the same self-congratulation. Now, it is not that
they believe the grace, the unmerited grace of God, hath made
them to differ; it is not that God has shed abroad his love in
their hearts when deserving his wrath; it is not even that they




THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN.                343:
discover by an enlightened spiritual discernment, real moral:
excellence of character in themselves, but it is simply that
they are better than others-that compared with others they
have whereof to glory. The question in such a case, is not
whether they have in the lowest sense complied with the standard of righteousness which God has given. It is simply a
question of comparison; and no matter how far below the true
standard they may fall, if others fall below them, if there are
others worse than they are, they still find cause for congratulating themselves, and thanking God.  Miserable delusion!
Who will ever acquire a knowledge of himself while he takes
such a method to form the estimate? Who cannot find some
one in the circle of his acquaintance, or at least some one in
the world of perdition, worse than himself? And who can
think that a spirit which boasts of such pre-eminence as this,
is the spirit of a true worshiper of God! Yet such was the
spirit of the Pharisee; such is the spirit of thousands who resemble him.
But let us trace still farther the workings of his mind.
"God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are, extortioners, unjust, adulterers, or even as this publican."  Now, how
far was this true, and how far was it false? And in deciding
this question let us admit his own declaration in its full import. He was not an extortioner, nor unjust. Ile had not
wrung from his debtors their hard earnings; he had not taken
advantage of their necessities; he had not snatched the bread
from the mouth of a famishing family, nor left the father to
pine away in the cold damps of a prison. He had been content with moderate profits; he had been concerned in no usurious contracts, no sly or crafty impositions, falsehoods, and
frauds. IHe was surprisingly free from these external immoralities which he had no temptation to be guilty of, and of this
wondrous outside purity he comes to the temple of God to
boast.
He was not an adulterer. No, he has never been willing to
run the risk of being stoned to death by the law of Moses,




344-      THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN.
for such a crime, and for this, too, he thanks -God, and triumphs over others. The catalogue of virtues had now been
exhausted, had he not perchance discovered a poor publican
who had also come up to the temple to pray; when he adds,
"or even as this publican." Tile publicans were a peculiarly
odious class of men to the Jews, as the appointed collectors of
the revenue exacted by the Romnan government. Generally
they were as iniquitous and oppressive as they were odious.
Such, then, was the character of the Pharisee, and such his
consolation, that he was not so bad as the lowest and most
despised members of the community.
And how common is a similar estimate! What multitudes
delude themselves and offend God by these partial estimates
of their moral worth. HIow easy to glance over the darker,
and fix with delight on the brighter portions of our character.
Few, it may be, are extortioners, or unjust, or adulterers, or
distinguished for the avarice and oppression of publicans-I
say these may be few, perhaps there are some, who cannot
say as much for themselves as the Pharisee. But allow the
number to be small who outstrip their neighbors in degeneracy and corruption of morals. Is the number small who value
themselves highly on account of such distinction? Are there
not many who think it a great virtue, and, indeed, about
enough to challenge God's acceptance on the ground of it, that
they have abstained from great vices? Be it so-they have
abstained fiom these-they are completely exempt.:They
know it, and those who are best acquainted with the minutest
parts of their history also know it, and must acknowledge it.
But are they not on this account tolerably well satisfied with
themselves? Are they not even in the presence of God proud
of their superiority? Yes, they are thus superior. They are
perhaps singled out by the admiration of one another, and by
their own, too, as the just, the true, the upright, the amiable,
the kind and the charitable among the many around them.
They are not as other men, for others are a great deal worse
than they are, and perhaps even in this temple of God, and




THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN.                 345i
before his mercy-seat,: their own conscience can tell them how
pleased they are to hear the acknowledgment.
But not so fast. For we have to inquire whether, after all,
the declaration of the Pharisee was not substantially false. I
mean to raise the question whether, in character, he was not
substantially like other men-even just like the publican.
What, then, decides moral character?  Motives-principles.
Did the Pharisee abstain from overt acts of extortion, injustice, adultery, fraud, and oppressionn?  Be it so. What was
his-motive? Nothing appears to prove to the contrary, and
much to prove directly that he was actuated by nothing but
a spirit of mere selfishness. The fact that such a man would
be apt to boast of all he could, and he boasted only of external
exemption from gross sins, looks very much as if he had nothing better to boast of; and that, therefore, nothing better
than a riegard to his own reputation, or an avaricious spirit, or
some other selfish principle, was the moving spring of all his
boasted abstinence from the crimes which others committed.
What, then, is the mighty difference between the man who is
unjust, or sensual, or oppressive through selfishness, and one
who abstains from these overt acts from the same principlebetween a man who, to promote a selfish purpose, defrauds
you in a contract, or who, to secure the same selfish end, deals
honestly?  Do you say the difference is great in the degree of
wickedness?  Be it so. What is the difference as it respects
substantial character, as that is decided by motives-by principles? Not a whit. Besides, what is there in such a man,
which might not be in him, and form precisely the same character, were the belief of a God utterly discarded? Were the
being of a God denied or unknown, still there might be a
feeling of compassion for suffering:humanity the shame of
being detected in any thing mean and disgraceful. Still a
regard to reputation might make men outwardly just, and
true, and kind, and public-spirited. But would there be any
moral excellence in such a character, any goodness in a heart
that acknowledges no God, and thinks of none?  And does
15*




346       THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN.
the fact that there is a God, and that he has come to man with
his claims upon the whole heart of man, in nowise touch the
question of character? Are the very principles and motives
which might exist in the midnight region of atheism-are
these enough, when the reality of a perfect God is revealed
with his claims on the heart? Men may say it is enough, the
deluded man of pride and self-sufficiency may say it is enough;
but will God say it is enough? No. Ile says, and every conscience approves of the decision-he says of such a man, be
the operation or form of his selfishness what it may, he loves
the world, and the love of the Father is not in him. lie loves
the world, and the friendship of the world is enmity against
God. Whether a Pharisee or a publican, whether graced with
all the charms of external morality, or debased by the deformity of the greatest vices, in character he is a rebel against the
government of God, so long as he wants the love of God. For
surely, if such principles may exist where all is atheism, because God is unknown-how does he stand convicted of a still
deeper and more determined atheism of heart, who, under a
full revelation of a ruling God and all his claims, is still satisfied with himself, and proud of his moral superiority, while
living without God in the world! And are there no facts to
prove it? lHave you never heard it said, we have done no
harm in the world; there are others a great deal worse than
we are; we have done a great deal of good? H Iave you never
heard the humble Christian ridiculed and laughed at for his
humility and self-abhorrence, and all that part of experimental
religion which lays the sinner guilty and condemned at the
feet of mercy-have you never witnessed all this denounced
as hypocrisy, cant, and enthusiasm —and have you not witnessed, too, at least a secret self-congratulation, like a thank
God of the Pharisee, that we have no cause for such humiliation before him? Y es, yes, we have all witnessed it in others,
if we have not felt it in our own proud hearts! And thus it
is, that in this world of alienation from God, and of rebellion
against him, the very rebels themselves, who have one and the




THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN.                347
same character, and are under the same condemnation, and
for whom the same atoning blood was shed, are praising one
another, flattering themselves, and secretly thanking God, too,
that they are not as other men are.
But the Pharisee has something more in reserve, even some
works of supererogation to recommend himself to God. "I
fast twice in the week, I pay tithes of all I possess." The
observance of these fasts rested on no higher authority than
the tradition of the Rabbins, and was designed simply to make
an impression of superior sanctity. It is true, useful as occasional fasting may be to the Christian, that it is not the
method of discovering our religious character, and of securing
a reputation for religion. And as to tithes, although our contributions, and donations, and charity are demanded, and
although more of the Spirit of the Lord Jesus would double
them; and although we are not so Judaical and superstitious
as to avow the creed that such punctilious observances will
atone for the want of'vital piety-still are there not many
who take such a complacency in these things, so substitute
them for something better, as really to overlook their own
want of vital godliness? Is it not fashionable with many, to
acknowledge with much seriousness the importance of religious
institutions, religious doctrines, and to deprecate the prevalence of heresies and infidelity? Is it not creditable to lend
to the religion of the gospel, generally, our countenance and
approbation, to show to its ministers agreeable attentions, and
to its ordinances an honorable respect? Is it not a matter of
custom with many, to give a scrupulous attendance on the
worship of the Sabbath, and even on all other occasions of
meeting for this purpose? Is it not also sometimes a fashionable affair to make contributions to the religious and charitable
enterprises of the day? Now, in all this, in itself, there may
be nothing to condemn. I will not raise the question whether,
in any of these things, there is excess or defect. There may
be both. We are glad to see religious institutions respected,
we are certainly, as ministers, thankful for personal favors; but




348        THE PHARISEE AND -PUBLICAN.
do not ask us, in return, to strengthen you in the delusion:that
all this is of necessity real religion-that any outward respect
will atone for the wickedness of a heart that sets at- naught
its authority, or to allow you to rest in the quieting hopes
of ultimate salvation, upon these easy expressions of respect
and good-will to religion. Is there no reason to fear, in your
case, that you substitute these for that thorough purity and
inward devotion of heart which are the life and soul of Christianity?  Is it not an easy and a pleasant service to contribute a word or a dollar in support of divine institutions, but
would it not be a task and an aversion to give an example of
the graces these services would form, or to sacrifice a sin that
is at war with their spirit? Is it not a matter of some selfcomplacency that you are so punctual at places of worship,
and yet a matter of no painstaking to govern your tempers or
to practice the more self-denying duties of the family? How
does your religion thrive in the closet? What are the emotions of your heart when alone with God? - Now, the religion
of fashion, the religion of habit, the religion of inheritances
and the religion of form may all exist, and the heart cherish
real enmity to the God who made it. Can you, then, apart from
all that is connected with the religion of externals-all that is
adapted to obtain for you applause-all that is calculated to
foster pride, or sloth, or self-dependence-can you then appeal
to the affections, when religion is reduced as it were to its very
elements and substance-the naked exercise of the spiritthe longings and the purposes of that spirit, and its practical
results, as the proof of real godliness?  If not, it is all the
homage of a formal, hollow-hearted service; and yet thus it is
that thousands deceive themselves. They are resting their
hopes for eternity on this rotten foundation, and secretly, if not
openly, thank God that they are so much better than others.
We now recur to the publican, who is set before us as an
example for imitation.- WVe can only refer briefly: to some of
the prominent facts respecting him.
"Thle publican standing afar off, would not lift up so




THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN.                349
much as his eyes to heaven, but smote upon his breast,
saying, God be merciful to me a sinner."  There is nothing in this- account that leads us to conclude that the publican, after all the boasting and the abusive insinuations of
the Pharisee, was any worse than himself, or that he fell below the average character of unrenewed men. At all events,
if this were the time and place for boasting, he might have
made no unfavorable comparison between himself and his
fellow-worshiper. He might have said, God, I thank thee
that I am not as proud, as vain, as- superstitious, as formal as
other men, or even as this Pharisee. I place no reliance on
ritual observance, I am not a slave to the traditions of the
elders, but I worship thee, who art a spirit, in spirit and in truth.
If boasting belonged to either, it belonged to the publican. If
it be the actual possession of moral excellence that is a just
ground for self-complacency and gratitude, it is the sinner
humbled at the foot of the cross, and he only, who has cause
to glory. But you hear no encomiumn on himself from the
publican-you never hear it from any hunmbled sinner. You
hear it, if you hear it at all, from those who have nothing to
boast of; and who must be not only filled with pride and selfconceit, but bold enough in iniquity even, to lie at the very
footstool of Omniscience. No other men do or can boast of
their good deeds.
" The publican stood afar off."  Here you can contrast his
feelings with those of the proud suppliant near him. The
place was the temple, and he felt it to be consecrated by the
presence of God. Not the conceited imaginary worth of his
own character, but a sense of the purity and awful majesty of
the God he worshiped, occupied his soul-and you see in his
very attitude and demeanor that deep reverence and solemn
awe which a sinner ought to feel when, as it were, he is alone
with God, and holding converse with him. The worth and
majesty of the Eternal stood in visible array before him, and
well might he feel that his place was afar off.
You can see also his sense of unworthiness and guilt. He




350       THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN.
would not lift up so much as his eyes to heaven. To lift both
the hands and eyes toward heaven was a common attitude of
supplication. In his refusal to lift so much as his eyes, we see
the deep sense he had of his own unworthiness. It tells with
an emphasis what language could not tell, how unworthy he
felt to appear even in the attitude of a suppliant; how unworthy to look toward the habitation of his offended God;
how unworthy of an inheritance in that world of purity and
blessedness.
He felt as if he had not a word to say. His unworthiness
was too great to permit him to tell God his necessities. He
scarcely dares vent his griefs and desires. To utter a word in
his own vindication he could not; to offer a single deed of
his life, or even his present anguish and distress, as a reason
for the divine favor, he could not. He is too wicked to pray,
and too wicked not to pray. To defer his application for
mercy, is to add to his guilt, to multiply his provocations, and
to be more wicked still. To offer to God the desires of a heart
unbroken for sin, iS mockery, and he has no evidence as yet
of his own contrition; whether he can pray with acceptance,
or whether his very prayer will be an abomination, he knows
not. What shall he do? "He smnites upon his breast." What
an expression of inward grief-of his sense of the wickedness
of his heart-as if he had said, oh, this wicked heart of mine,
how alienated from God, how ungrateful for his mercies, how
rebellious against his authority! What a fountain of iniquity
it hath been; what authority, what motives, what obligations,
what light and love and grace I have slighted! How desperately wicked it hath been, every imagination of the thoughts
thereof! It is full of evil; and even now, how hard and stubborn and unyielding! Still I can reject the proffered salvation of God; still my heart will not relent. Oh, what must
become of me!  To return to stupidity in sin, is death; to
remain where I am, is death.  I have never prayed aright
before, and it is high time I had. I can but persist; I am
resolved to try. "God be merciful to me a sinner."  And




THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN.               351
never did a sinner utter a better prayer. Though short and
unlabored, it flowed from a full soul; and this man went down
to his house justified rather than the other.
Let us, then, briefly examine this prayer, which prevailed
with God. It was dictated by a broken and a contrite heart. As
in the case of Paul, the commandment had come, sin revived,
and he died. He saw and he felt the evil of sin as the transgression of the perfect law of a perfect God. He saw and felt
the evil of sin as committed against God-as a contempt of his
authority-as ingratitude for his mercies-as rebellion against
his throne, and hostility to all his designs. He saw and he
felt the justice of his own condemnation. All questions and
all doubts on this point ended at this spot; he felt his desert of the just sentence of a just God, and his mouth had
been stopped from that moment had that sentence been executed. To be a sinner against God, and to feel it, is to feel all
this.
His plea was for mercy. There was not a word, not a
thought, about justice-about merit-about good deeds outweighing bad ones-not one proffered act of obedience as the
price of God's favor, but he asked for mercy, for favor to the
guilty and the hell-deserving.
Nor is this all. It was the prayer of faith in the atonement.
This the original word decisively denotes. Whether he knew
the precise nature of the atonement by the Son of God or
not, is immaterial. He knew, as did all the saints under the
old dispensation, that God showed mercy to the guilty only
through an atonement-only in a way which should magnify
his law and vindicate his justice. Here, then, was his reliance.
He did not approach God as too severe to punish sin, as an indulgent God who can overlook the sins of his creatures, whose
denunciations of wrath are mere empty threatenings that
neither will be, nor ought to be, executed. Such was not the
God whom the publican approached. HIe came to that God,
whose justice is pledged to execute wrath for sin, and will execute it, either on the sinner or on a substitute-to that God




352       THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN.
whose justice has poured his wrath upon the head of its propitiatory victim and shines with no less splendor in the pardon
than in the punishment of the guilty. He wished to come in
no other way; he wished to come in this. He saw the glory
of that God with whom he had to do, and he did not indulge
a desire to be saved in a way that should tarnish it. Here,
then, in the mercy of God in Christ, on the merit of that precious blood typified by the blood of lambs-the blood of the
Lamb of God —he put his trust. And here we must all come.
For it is added as the grand point of instruction of the parable, and as the decision of eternal truth, "For every one that
exalteth himself shall be abased, and he that humbleth himself shall be exalted."
REMARKS.
i. How vain must be the hope of those who expect heaven
because they are not so wicked as others. Few there may be
who frankly avow that such is their hope, but there is proof
enough that multitudes cherish it. We have heard the hope
expressed on the very bed of death, and witnessed there the
delusive quiet, the consolation, the pride, and the contempt
of Jesus and his salvation, which result firom the persuasion
that the dying sinner is not so wicked as some others. And
is it so, that this is just ground for such a hope? How wicked
must a man be to be damned?  Is it no matter how wicked
if so be another can be found more wicked than hinself.? Tell
us where is the limit of this hope. If the man who can find
others worse than: himself may, on that account, hope for
heaven, then go down the descending scale of moral character, and tell us where and who is wicked enough to be
damned, and where, in the name of truth and righteousness,
are you to stop?  At the prison, the thief, the cell of the
highwayman, and the gallows of the murderer? No. Peradventure there may be one worse than they, who, by his still
deeper malignity in sin, shall become, to all intents and pur'



THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN.               353
poses, the savior of those who had otherwise deserved and incurred the same damnation! And thus it is that multitudes
are solacing themselves with the conception of the slenderness
of their own guilt and the kindness of an indulgent God; thus
it is that a spirit of deep slumber has laid hold of their conscience, and is speeding their infatuated way to hell. But is
this the plan of salvation revealed in this book of God   Are
you not just as wicked as if you were the only rebel against
God in the universe? Summnon all the devils in hell to your
side, and enter into a comparison, and prove that every one
of them has cherished a deeper malice against God, uttered
more blasphemies against him. Will this lessen your guilt?
Will this impair your desert of the wrath of that God against
whom you have maintained as firm and open rebellion as your
own selfish interests would permit  Tell us if such greater
guilt in devils can take the place of Jesus's blood in your salvation. Away, then, with these flattering comparisons of
yourselves with others, this self-gratulation, this deep and fatal
tranquillity, because you are not the worst sinner throughout
God's dominions. To the law and the testimony. There you
shall find that you have guilt enough to damn you, and that
it will damn you unless you hasten to the spot where the publican stood, and with him cry, "God be merciful to me a
sinner."
2. Let us beware how by comparing ourselves with others
we are led to despise them.
This is what the Pharisee did, not the publican. This is
what God abhors, not what God approves. It is pride. No
humble Christian does it when conviction of sin has taken
possession of the -mind, and the sinner is brought to compare
himself with the law of God, and see himself in that light, as
he is, a guilty, hell-deserving sinner; then he has done with
comparing himself with other men. But a more proud and
haughty man treads not on earth than he who, from the pinnacle of self-righteousness, looks down on his neighbor, saying,
" Stand by thyself, come not near to me, for I am holier than
23




'354       THE PHARISE.E AND PUBLICAN.
thou;" "God, I thank thee that I am not as other men."
Like leviathan in the waters, that man is king over the children of pride.
It is ignorance. It is ignorance -of the most plain and ilnportant of all subjects-ignorance which implies a mind stupefied, degraded, besotted by sin. The man is ignorant of God,
ignorant of his law, ignorant of himself, ignorant of what he
ought to be, ignorant of what he is, ignorant of what awaits
him in a near and hastening eternity. Comparing himself
with other rebels against God, and on the ground of their
superiority in guilt, trusting in himself as right, and expecting God's approbation, what does such a man know?
It is hypocrisy-hypocrisy of the grossest aspect. I know
such men flatter themselves that they abhor hypocrites. It is
their character to despise others; and that whether they are
better or worse than themselves. But who is a greater hypocrite than he who has always lived unmindful of his God, who
has broken his law in every instance of moral action, who has
not a particle of moral excellence, and if he had, would have
no cause for boasting, and yet boasts of his abstinence from
sin, and straightens himself among his fellows on the staff of
his imagined merits? I tell you there is not a more vain, conceited being, as God sees him, either in this or in any other
world.
It is open and base contempt of Jesus and his salvation.
For how can such a man need the benefits of Christ's mediation? He can come directly to God and challenge acceptance;
and why was atoning blood shed for him? It was a vain and useless sacrifice, and this he pronounces it to be. But this is not
the worst of it. The sinner brings his imaginary righteousness, destitute as it is of every quality of holy obedience,
polluted as it is by enmity against God, and tells a spotless
God, in the pride of self-complacency, that this is an adequate
price for his favor; it is a better offering than many others can
make; and that is reason enough why, polluted as it is, it
should be preferred to the sacrifice of the son of God. I ask,




THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN.'355
if he who rejects the atonement of the Lord Jesus, who thus
rejects it with the scorn of self-righteousness, rejects it by
offering his very rebellion against God, as a worthier sacrifice,
does not cause the measure of all ordinary guilt to overflow?
I ask, if the man who thus exalts himself will not be abased;
will not the darkest frown of divine indignation be turned
upon him, and must not this attitude of self-complacency, this
avowed contempt of God and his Son, land him in the deepest
perdition of the pit?
3. No sinner, after such an example as that of the publican, can have any excuse for not praying right, imnediately.
Persons are very apt to suppose, that if they have never
prayed aright, that a long time of preparation is necessary;
that they must at least feel more strongly, that they must wait
and wait till they grow better, and often they wonder that
ministers should urge them to a surrendry of their hearts to
God, in the first prayer they offer. They know not how to do
it, and there may be those who would be glad to ask us how
they shall do it now. We answer by asking them, how did
the publican do it a Knowing as you do, that you are guilty and
under God's condemnation, how long a time is necessary that
you may feel it; knowing as you do that there is no hope for
you till you put your trust in the Lord Jesus, how long a time
is necessary that you may feel that?.Knowing that you grow
no better till this is done, but rather grow worse; knowing that
to think you are growing better is a fatal delusion; knowing
that the Lord Jesus is willing to be trusted, and that you must
come just as you are, how long time is necessary to feel that?
What was there in the case of the publican which is not, or
may not, at this moment be true of you? If he was in the
temple of God-as you now are-if he was under a conviction
of guilt, as you now may be, and in the act of prayer actually
yielded himself to God, why may not you. Fellow sinner,
you may; and if you refuse now to give up your heart to the
same Saviour, you will add sin to sin.




356       T-ET PHARaISEE AND PUBLICAN.
4. Every one of us' must be humbled before God, if we
would partake of his mercy.
Every one of us, wise or great, rich or happy-be we who
or what we may-if we: would partake of the salvation of
God, must come down  to the place where the publican was
brought. Sinners we are, and -sinners we must feel ourselves
to be. Christ died for us in this character; all his overtures
of mercy are made to us in this character; and God will accept of us in no other. That sense of guilt and just condermnation which makes mercy our only plea-. that believing sense
of the efficacy of Christ's atonement which leads us to make
it all our dependence, must be felt, or his wrath must be felt
for eternity. And now, my dear hearers, have you felt it;
have you smote upon your breast before God, as did the publican? If not, you are yet resting in proud security concerning your eternal all, while eternity is coming nearer and nearer
every day. You are still clinging to a delusive notion, which
defies the decisions of the eternal God, and pours scorn and
contempt on the atonement of his Son. And, oh! fellow-sinner, what shall sustain your tranquillity when death shall:come
and look on you in earnest. Will your own righteousness at that
hour of pain and breathlessness-that hour when eternity and
the God of eternity shall be so near-will your own righteousness then charm away the anticipations of vengeance? Or if
your delusion should be strong enough, for so it may be, to
stupefy and conduct you, without alarm, to the judgment-seat,
-how will you then feel, when shall be laid bare to God's inspection, and your own, and that of assembled worlds, all
your devotedness to the world, all your proud imaginations,
all the filthy rags of your own righteousness, all your insolent
contempt of Jesus' blood, all your enmity to God, and all
your defiance of his decisions and his attributes? Oh, when
this shall-be-when the Judge shall have come to fix the destinies of yourself, and your fellow-immortals-when the high
test of heaven shall be applied to your character-when you
shall thus be convicted of your utter and constant rebellion




THE PHARISEE AND PUBLICAN.             35T
against God, and stand speechless before the coming retributions of eternity, what shall sustain you  Justify yourself
you cannot; hide from the hastening wrath you cannot;
avert the arm of vengence you cannot; bear the woes it will
inflict you cannot. Fly, then, to the appointed refuge and
be safe.




XXVI.
HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS.
I KINGS Xviii. 21.
"How long halt ye between two opinions? If the Lord be God, follow him;
but if Baal, then follow him."
IT seems to have been the policy of the kings of Israel, at
some periods of their history, to introduce that variety of worship which should suit the taste of all. Accordingly, temples
were erected for the worship of Baal, as well as altars to Jehovah. The consequence was, idolatry became as fashionable
as true religion, and far more prevalent; and the further consequence was, indifference to all religion. The people did not
deny that Jehovah was God, but they considered Baal as God
also. Thus they halted between two opinions, neither openly
avowing Jehovah nor Baal to be the true God to the exclusion
of the other; but were satisfied with rendering to both a
superficial and divided service.
The bold and zealous prophet Elijah, who held men responsible for their opinions on such subjects, could not view such
conduct without deep and strong emotion. Having by the
king's command assembled all Israel, he came and said to all
the people, "I-Iow LONG HALT YE BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS?"
Why this indifference and indecision, on the most momentous
of all questions?  Jehovah and Baal cannot both be God.
Decide, therefore, which is God. If Baal be God, worship
and serve him accordingly. But if Jehovah be God, choose
him and him only as your portion; give him your whole heart,
and submit to all his commands.




HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS.              359
The spirit and conduct ascribed by the prophet to the people
of Israel, are exhibited by multitudes at the present day. They
do not despise religion; they are convinced of its truth, its
importance, its excellence. Neither do they despise the world.
They wonder, indeed, at the conduct of the profane and grossly
wicked; that men should dare to venture upon a course of open
contempt of God and his laws; but still their attachments to
the world are so strong, that they do not wholly renounce this
idol of their heart. Their sense of obligation to God is too
feeble to fix them in a steady, uniform course of obedience to
his will. There is too much self-denial in this; and yet they
have such convictions of its importance, that they do not deliberately resolve to renounce his service wholly and forever.
If they do not profess to be religious, and openly and decidedly
arrange themselves on the Lord's side, yet they profess not to
be irreligious. They intend to be religious, perhaps sometimes
attempt to be so, but the world easily diverts their attention,
and weakens and breaks down their strongest resolutions.
They bring nothing to pass. The reason is, they are undecided,
they halt between two opinions. Thus multitudes go on, year
after year, in a middle course between open irreligion and
vice, and real devotion to the service of God. Thus, too, they
die and go to the judgment.
The text justlyFirst, Condemns this indecision in religion; and
Second, Enjoins the duty of deciding who is truly God, and
of serving him.
I. This indecision is justly condemned.
1. It is not honest.
This indecision is not honest. It exists rather in appearance
than in reality. It is an attempt to accomplish an utter impossibility. No man can have two objects of supreme affection. To whatever degree, therefore, such persons may pretend to renounce the world; to whatever degree they may
pretend to serve God, it is in fact mere pretense. So long as
their hearts are not fixed supremely on God, they are the ser



360      HALTING  BETWEEN  TWO OPINIONS.
vants of mammon. In all that they seem to do for God, nothing is truly done for him. The heart is insincere; their purpose fluctuates, and therefore is unreal. God is not chosen as
the portion of the soul. The whole attempt is, in reality, a
hypocritical artifice.
2. They derive no full enjoyment from religion or the world.
They enter not into the spirit of true religion; they are in
fact destitute of the least degree of it. They can, therefore,
derive no enjoyment from religion. As to the world, their
convictions of duty are too strong to suffer them to derive the
full measure of enjoyment from that which it might otherwise
afford. They desire from the world what they cannot have
without uneasiness, and seek to find at least some good from
religion, with no relish for its joys. They resort to two opposite sources of enjoyment. What they derive from one is embittered by what flows from the other. And it is alike true
with respect to religion and the world, they can neither be
satisfied with it, nor satisfied without it. They are self-tormentors. A life of self-inflicted misery —themselves self-tormentors.
3. They have no peace of conscience.
Conscience, whenever it speaks, and it speaks often and distinctly, too, condemns them. They are strangers to its cheering testimony, that by the grace of God they have had their
conversation in the world.  In the prospect of sickness, or
death, it never whispers peace. On the contrary, it awakens
the most distressing forebodings. In such minds, conscience
seldom sleeps; their whole life is little else than a conflict with
this inward monitor, a course of efforts to stifle its voice, and
to avoid reflection respecting God and eternity. And what
more unhappy state, than to be constantly doing violence to
conscience, and to be as constantly upbraided by its reproaches;
a sinful being making himself wretched under the smile of
God's pardoning love; and instead of the hopes, the peace,
the prospects of a probation of mercy, having perpetual earnests and foretastes of the retribution of guilt!




HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS.    3861
4. This state of mind is attended more or less with a sense
of shame.
Few things are more wounding to the pride of man, than
conscious imbecility of purpose and character. And in no
case, perhaps, is this consciousness more inevitable than in a
state of indecision with respect to religion. To be convinced
of the magnitude and importance of the object, to form resolution after resolution, to make effort after effort, and accom-:
plish nothing, to be frustrated in such an undertaking, by the
most insignificant causes, must bring the reproach of weakness,
and the feeling of self-contempt. How constantly he wishes
he had more reason, more sense, more any thing, which gives
self-respect! How he must feel reproached by the kindest
estimate of the wise and good-that he has none of that resolution and firmness of character, which produce results-that
he is one of those light, passive bodies which, under the most
powerful impulse, is put at rest by the most trifling obstaclea floating leaf whirled and stopped by every weed or eddy in
its way!
5. This state of mind is full of danger.
If such are not sooner or later discouraged, and led to abandon all thoughts of becoming religious, nothing will be effected,
as the result of such a course. Indecision never did any thing
to the purpose in worldly pursuits, much less in religion.
Analyze this state of mind, and you will see that it must be
so. An undecided purpose is the want of all purpose. And
the want of a purpose to act in such a case, is a purpose not
to act. A determination to do nothing. It may vary in its
strength from the purpose of the openly dissolute and abandoned; but it is the same in kind, a determination not to be
religious; and what can be the result of such a purpose but
death?
At the same time it has an awfully deceptive influence.
The openly profligate can hardly admit that he is either right
or safe. He can at least be more easily shown his danger.
[But the man who imagines himself but at a little distance from
Vol. I.-16




362     HALTING  BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS.
the path of rectitude and safety, who supposes at most but a
few steps need be taken to reach it, and who perhaps persuades himself that he is fast approaching it, has of all men
most cause for alarm. While the real danger of his condition
is as great as that of any other, he is blind to the fact. Ile is
beyond the reach of alarm. Ile sees not the evils of his case
to be great, and therefore is satisfied that mere palliatives
should be administered; every severe remedy is rejected, because it is deemed unnecessary. He is content to halt between two opinions, to stand on the brink of perdition, with
his eyes shut.
6. This state of mind is highly criminal.
Whether Jehovah or Baal be God, he is the supreme good,
the being who has a right to command; he ought to be
obeyed. No matter which be God; no matter which be the
eternal self-existent Being that made us and all things, that
preserves and blesses us; no matter which is the truly excellent and truly glorious being, possessing in himself, and capable of imparting to us, all that can perfect and bless the
immortal spirit; no matter to which we are under the infinite
obligations which result from facts like these, be he whom he
may-Jehovah or Baal, God or the world-that being, that
object, we ought to love and choose and serve forever. These
obligations exist somewhere. We cannot annul or lessen them.
We are created, we are upheld, we are blessed in this world,
we are capable of joy and blessedness through eternity. There
is one to whom we owe all that we are and possess. This
being is Jehovah or Baal; there cannot be more than one
supreme God. There must be one. There can be no conflicting claims, no compromise of services. Who, then, can
measure the guilt of refusing to decide which is God? What
language can describe the enormity of indifference or hesita —
tion in such a case; what authority does it not despise; what
obligations does it not violate? What, my hearers, if the hosts
of heaven should begin to doubt on this subject, and should:
suspend their songs, and waver, and hesitate, and delay their




HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS.              363
homage, to decide whether the Jehovah that reigns there is
the true. God, and- whether he or a dumb idol deserves their
worship?  How, then, must this conduct appear in man?
What is such conduct but rebellion against Jehovah, unmitigated even by respect, or rather aggravated by proud contempt?
Such are some of the characteristics of this indecision.
Whether the worshiper of Jehovah or the devotee of the
world be right, they who hesitate are wrong.
II. Our text enforces the duty of deciding who is truly God,
and of serving him, whether Jehovah or mammon, God orl
the world. This may be done by considering what they are
in themselves, what they have done for you, and what they
can and will do for you.
1. What they are in themselves.
There is a Being possessed of every perfection and every
excellence. There is a Being, the very thought of whom fills
the mind at once, and will fill the highest created intelligence
with adoration and astonishment forever. The most daring
flight of imagination, the utmost comprehension of thought,
even of angels and archangels, instead of fathoming the abyss
of glory, are lost in the inexhausted and inexhaustible riches
that spread and multiply around them. There is a Being
whose majesty and dignity no created being can describe,
who is first, and last, and midst, " that is, and that was, and
that is to come." He formed all things by a word; he sustains and pervades the universe he has made. Nothing is too
vast for his control, nothing too little for his inspection. If
we attempt to conceive whatever is great in power, colnprehensive in wisdom, perfect in purity, and enchanting in goodness, we shall form to ourselves not a living picture of Deity,
but a faint and shaded image, such as our mortal vision may
bear to behold. What an assemblage'of attributes must that
be which exalts his glory above the heavens; what perfection,
what excellence must that be, before which angels cast their
crowns and vail their faces; what glory is that which wakes




364     HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS.
the song that echoes through heaven's eternal arches and
makes all its pillars tremble? This Being is Jehovah. Look,
then, at the world, what is it! Its wealth, but glittering
atoms; its honor, empty breath; its pleasure, animal sensation. Vanity and vexation of spirit is the whole amount.
Who, then, is God-Jehovah or Baal? Who is worthy of the
love and service of such a being as man-God or the world?
2. Consider what they have done for you.
There is a Being whose hands have formed thee and fashioned thee, who hath breathed into thee the breath of life, and
made thee a living soul. His visitation hath every day and
moment preserved your soul in life; you have lived on the
provisions of his bounty; his constant care hath preserved
you from innumerable evils; you have walked amidst sickness, and dangers,.and sorrows, and death, but in God you
have lived and moved and had your being. There is a Being
who has borne more than a father's love to you-a Being
whom you have provoked by your sins —yet has withheld his
anger; and, instead of destroying you forever, has waited to
be gracious. When you were lying on the verge of endless
woe, beyond the reach of all created help, that being sent his
only-begotten Son into the world to redeem and save you-to
redeem and save you, when his enemies, by dying for you.
He made atonement for your sins, brought in an everlasting
righteousness for you, and opened to you, in all your guilt, the
portals of everlasting life. Read the greatness of his love and
his zeal for your salvation in the blood he shed, the pains and
agonies he underwent for you. There is a Being who hath
sent his holy Spirit into the world, that this work of redeeming love might not be lost upon you through your contempt
and obstinacy-sent him to renew and sanctify your polluted
soul, to enstamp on it his own likeness, and to fit it, for his
own eternal and blissful presence.
Now, in opposition to these claims, what pretensions can
the world make? What has it done for you? If it hath administered in some degree to your comfort, still it has deceived




HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS.             365
you at every step; it has corrupted your heart and debased
you in the depths of moral degradation. It has vexed, and
troubled, and almost ruined you forever.  It has not, in a
solitary instance, promoted your real good. Which, then, is
God-Jehovah or the world?  Which deserves your heart?
What but unspeakable folly and madness can doubt?. Who
does not say, " To thee, O God, my Maker, my Preserver, my
Benefactor, my Redeemer, my Sanctifier, I devote, I consecrate myself.? I perceive thy right to all that I am; to thee,
through him who bought me with his blood, I devote myself,
my all. Had I ten thousand times more to give, it should all
be thine. God's I am, and God I will serve."
3. What can the world, what can God do for you?
The world promises much, but what has it truly in its
power to give? Nothing. For even the good things of this
life are distributed by the providence of God, and without his
leave you cannot enjoy the meanest comfort. True, the world
sets before us -a few images of outward pomp and grandeur;
there are those among its devotees who, as it would persuade
us, are happy. But it hides the thousands who die martyrs
to its wretched cause. Even those who make a great and
gay appearance outwardly, and whose happiness appears complete, are for the most part truly miserable within-mere objects of pity. But let it be supposed that all which the world
promises it will actually perform. Contemplate, then, the value
of its gifts, and give them all they possess. Suppose you live in
ease, in pleasure; that you are ever exempt from sickness and
calamity, from care and anxiety; that you enjoy uninterrupted prosperity; that you are rich and honorable; that you
live long in this scene of unmingled enjoyment, with nothing
to disturb your peace without, and the accusations of conscience silenced within, not a cloud obscuring the continual
sunshine of your life. Delightful prospect! Yes, here is all
that the world can give, and it gives it all to you. But how
long will it last? Look at your grave, which lies open a little
way before you. Hlow soon will death spread a dark vail over




366     HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS.
all these scenes of pleasure; how soon will a shroud, a coffin,
and a spot of earth for your body, be all that will remain to
you? What, then, will be your condition? What scenes will
you then have to witness? The trial of the great day of account; the final sentence that will fix your endless doom; the
pains and torments of eternity! There was a rich man who
was clothed in purple and fine linen, and fared sumptuously
every day. He died and was buried, and in hell he lifted up
his eyes and cried in vain for a drop of water to quench his
thirst. Ask him what the world is worth.
Consider now what the Lord can do, and what he will do,
for you. There is a Being in whose favor is life, and whose
loving-kindness is better than life. True it is, in his service
many things grateful to your corrupt appetites must be abandoned; much self-denial must be practiced; many conflicts
must be sustained. We would not deceive you with unreal
representations. After all, who will say that the good things
of this life are not ordinarily distributed as bountifully to the
righteous as to the wicked?  Be this as it may, there is one
who will give you as much of these things as infinite wisdom
sees best for you. Who would wish for more? If a friend of infinite wisdom and kindness will choose for you, who would wish
to choose for himself? There is one who can and will be your
refuge in every time of trouble. IHow delightful amid all the
strange and disastrous changes and calamities, to lift an eye of
joy and confidence upward to an almighty omnipresent friend,
to cast away all solicitude, and to lean safely on his everlasting arm? There is an infinite Being who will impart peace to
your soul, give you the privileges of the children of the highest,' and hold frequent and delightful communion with you in
this world. I-Ie will give an interest in those promises whose
length and breadth and height and depth have no limit but
his own boundless goodness, and accompany that interest with
a humble hope that these promises are yours. He will deliver
you from the vexation and the defilement of sinful passions,
create within you the moral image of his own unspotted




HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS.              367
purity, unite you in heart, in principle, in conduct, in employments, and, of course, in bliss, with himself and with the holy
universe. He will lift upon you the light of his countenance
as a foretaste of heaven, cleanse you from guilt in that blood
which satisfies every claim of eternal justice; he will, as the
eternal Spirit, dwell in you.to enlighten, guide, sanctify,
strengthen, nrd comfort you. He will impart to you that
submission, and confidence, and gratitude, and love, which
are the elements of the Christian character-holy and heavenly
elements that shall survive the lapse of ages and flourish in
eternal beauty. He will erect and finish a kingdom that will
show what infinite power, directed by infinite wisdom and
goodness can do, to bless his creatures and make you a partaker in its joys-joys as pure as heaven and lasting as his
throne.  In a word, there is one who is the fountain and
source of all good-who made the heavens and the earth-the
giver of all that ministers to the good of man, whose presence
diffuses joy and rapture through all the hosts of heaven-who
is full of glory, bliss and goodness, and who gives them to all
who love him. Who, then, can halt between two opinions
any longer; what ground can there be for a moment's hlesitation? Who does not say, the Lord, he is God-the Lord, he
is God?:
And, my dear hearers, let me call your serious individual
consideration to the subject before us. Are there not some-I
speak both to those who do and those who do not profess religion-are there not some among you, whose state and character have been described.
To all such I would address the words of the prophet, " HIow
long halt ye between two opinions?" Why do you hesitate in
such a concern as this? Is not the question worth decidingwhether you will take God or the world for your masteryour eternal portion?  Is it not easily decided? Is there any
thing to hinder your choice? Is not indecision a state of shame,
vexation and wretchedness; is it not replete with guilt and
danger?  Do you not dishonor God, by standing to compare




368     HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS.
his claims with those of a dumb idol, or this polluted world?
Does not the plea of mercy grow feebler and feebler, and the
demands of justice louder and louder? Can any thing be lost
by a decision? Will not your soul be lost without it? As you
are, are you not every moment provoking an offended God to
pour out his eternal vengeance upon you? By one decisive
purpose of your soul may not everlasting life be yours? How
long, then, halt ye between two opinions? Oh, shame on our
species! Creatures, surrounded by the proofs of the eternal
power and Godhead of Jehovah-sustained every moment by
his righteous hand, and blessed with the ceaseless flow of his
bounties; reprieved from hell and damnation by his mercy,
and invited to fellowship with him in blessedness and glorythese creatures, looking on this corrupting world, hesitate
which they will serve! These creatures, knowing what the
world is-what the soul is-what its doom is; knowing what
sin is-what hell is, and what heaven is; knowing what Jesus
Christ the Saviour is-what his love to them is; these creatures
of God knowing what God is-what he is in his wrath, and
whathe is in his mercy-what his friendship is-what it is to
go away an outcast from that friendship for eternity-what it
is to live forever under the frown of his indignation, and what
it is to live forever under the smiles of his love, and what it
is to be happy as God can make happy, such creatures of God,
when called to his service hesitate-come into his presencehear his voice of entreaty, hear the thunders of his vengeance,
and look on the bright visions of his promises, and halt between
two opinions! And, my dear hearers, what more can be said?
"If the Lord be God follow him; if Baal, then follow him."
Make your choice at all hazards. If this world be the only
good, if this be the fit and proper object of your affections, if
this world can satisfy your immortal desires, if it can support
under trials, give you peace of conscience, if it can cheer you
in death, and bless you through eternity, then fix your heart
upon it, pursue it as your chief good, resolutely, and to the
end; cast off the fear of God, silence the voice of conscience,




HALTING BETWEEN TWO OPINIONS.    369
away with the fears of death and hell, and make the most of
this object of your choice. But if the Lord be God-if he is
the eternal, self-existent, glorious being whose claims upon
your heart no tongue can describe, if he is the only object that
can fill the soul, if without his blessing all is wretchedness
here and forever; if, my dear hearers, you are immortal, if
there is a judgment to come on whose throne he will sit, —if
there is a heaven which his mercy hath prepared, if there is
a hell kindled by his justice, if there is a God, follow him.
16*                                         24




XXVI.
MAKING EXCUSES.
LuxE xiv. 18.
"I pray thee, have me excused."
No man goes on quietly in his sin, with just views of the
nature of sin and of his desert of its fearful consequences.
To avoid such views, and to secure to the mind some tolerable degree of quietness in determined iniquity, the most common and the most effectual expedient, is that of making excuses. Notwithstanding the clear revelation which God has
made of his will, almost every one has an extensive list of pretexts, excuses, palliations and apologies to which he resorts, as
occasion demands, to weaken the force of his obligations, and
to hide from his own view the guilt of transgression. The
practice commences so early, and is adopted so universally,
that it seems to be not so much the result of habit, as itself a
kind of instinct. The learned and the ignorant, the young
and the old, appear alike acquainted with the art, and almost
equally skilled in its application.
A propensity so universal, with a practice founded upon it
so hostile to the interests of the soul, demands our serious
consideration. I shall consider it as vain, as criminal, as
r~uinous.
I. All excuses for disobedience to God are vain.
It were easy to show, by an examination of all the excuses
which are offered for irreligious negligence, that they are
utterly false, and therefore utterly vain.  I can only notice
briefly, a few of those which are most common.




MAKING EXCUSES.                  371
One is, God makes us sinners, either by creating sin as a
substantial prloperty of the soul, or by the laws of propagation, just as the other properties of the mind, or as the members of the body are propagated. But can this be so? God
create men sinners, or make them sinners by the laws of proppagation! God make that sin, which, in the nature of things,
cannot be sin! God make the essential properties of the soul
sin! Why not, then, the organs of the body, or the features of
the face? Take care, you say, you limit the power of God.
Limit the power of God! Is it limiting the power of God to
say he cannot make two and two five, or a part equal to the
whole, or a thing to be and not to be at the same time?
Plainly it is no limitation of the power of God, to say he cannot do such things. Power, in the true sense, has no concern
with such things, and for this very good reason, they are not
things. It is time that Christians and ministers had done with
claiming for God the honor of the power to create sin in the
human mind. A sinner for being what God made me! God
send men to hell for being what he makes them! No. Sin
is man's work. Sin is moral action-the act or exercise of
the heart. God creates the man a free moral agent; and the
man makes himself a sinner. " O, Israel, thou hast destroyed
thyself."
Again, it is a sort of standing excuse with some sinners,
when urged to perform their duty, to reply, we cannot. But
what is the nature of the inability? Their own consciousness,
and the word of God, alike testify that it is the simple inability
of disinclination-the inability of the carnal mind, which is
enmity against God-the inability of wickedness, and nothing
else-an inability, therefore, which is itself the essential crime,
the very substance of guilt. Can it, then, be an apology? Will
God regard the very guilt of sin, the very quality which renders it worthy of his wrath, as its vindication?
Another excuse is, the Spirit of God is not ready to change
my heart. And we ask, in reply, first, what if he is not ready
to change your heart? Who made it necessary that this divine




372..            MAKING EXCUSES.
agent should interpose to subdue the proud and wicked heart
of the sinner to the love of God?  The sinner himself, and he
only-he only, by his voluntary, cherished perverseness in
sin. What, then, if the Spirit is not ready will this excuse
you a moment-will this annihilate the guilt of that perverseness in sin, which, as a free moral agent, you can and ought
to relinquish instantly, by loving God? But I have another
answer. You have no warrant to say, that the Spirit of God
is not ready. I do not say that he is, or that he ever will be
ready. You may be already given up to hardness of heart.
But you have no warrant to say, that he is not ready. You
do not know it-you cannot prove it; and, in so saying, you
may be lying against the Holy Ghost. He may be now striving with you, in a manner, that would result in your instant
conversion, were you not resisting and grieving him to the
utmost. What if it should be so?  What sort of an excuse
will your resisting and grieving the Holy Ghost, and then
lying against him, prove to be at the bar of God?
The multitude of worldly cares and business, and a consequent want of time, is another common excuse for neglecting religion.  The apology assumes that the business of
the world and religion cannot go together-that one or the
other must give way; whereas, the divine requirement is, that
men must be as religious in their business as in the duties of
the closet, or in the house of God. He, therefore, who has
time for the business of the world, has at least, all that time
for religion. And, as it respects the retired and devotional
duties of religion, let the hours of every man's life which are
wasted, answer. Let the sinner compare the value of his interests on earth with those of eternity —let him produce the
result of his incessant worldly occupation; and then ask whether God will be satisfied that he wanted time for his service?
It is often said, we are as good as those around us, at
least as the majority; and why need we be thus importuned
on the subject of religion?  The force of; this excuse depends
on the fact that others around you are as wicked as yourself;
VolY. I. r_




MAKING EXCUSES.                   373
and the corrupt inhabitant of Sodom or Gomorrah, to stay
the storm of fire and brimstone, might have pleaded the same
apology.
Others say, there are so many hypocrites in the world, that
we have our doubts whether, after all, religion be a reality.
But why should there be hypocrites, if religion itself is not a
reality?  If there were no true bank-notes, no bank, would
there be counterfeits? Do you excuse one debtor from the
payment of his debts, because others have paid you in: base
coin? aWill God excuse rebellion in you, because others mock
him with hypocrisy? No; the demand is on you with additional force, "Come, and do better than they."
I might proceed to mention and expose many other similar
excuses, for the neglect of religion generally. Equally empty
and absurd are those which are offered for the omission of the
particular duties of religion. Are we called upon to perform acts
of charity, how commonly do we withhold our substance, under
the plea of bestowing it upon some more worthy object, or because we are too poor, while the more worthy object is never
selected, and while we are blessed with an abundance. But
will God be satisfied with such pretexts? God requires us to
work that we may have something to give to him that needeth-to practice self-denial, too, that in this way we may increase our charitable contributions. What, then, will it avail
to say, that our property is our own, our health requires indulgence, our station demands iexpense, ourf dependents are
numerous, while we hoard up a fund that ought to be conse-'
crated to the solace of misery, or the advancement of knowledge and religion? What will it avail to say, the wants of the
poor, the demands of charity are perpetual? Will God subtract from our obligation because others are always miserable
-because the opportunities of doing good are multiplied2
What will it avail to say the times are hard?   Will God justify us in retrenching folnm our charities, or from our useless
and criminal indulgences 
How readily multitudes excuse themselves for omitting re:




374               MAKING EXCUSES.
ligious topics in conversation, the neglect of family prayer, or
brotherly exhortation and admonition. They want confidence
or talents, or it will answer no useful purpose. Do they want
confidence or talents to express their opinions on politics or
on the business of the world? If not, their excuse is a falsehood; and as to its answering no useful purpose, why, then,
did God prescribe the duty? Did he not judge it useful?
Can lie not make it useful? Will he, then, accept of an apology which rejudges and condemns his decision and distrusts
his grace?
The same course substantially, and to as little purpose, is
adopted with respect to the sins of life. Are we angry? We
are naturally of a quick and passionate temper-as if the very
business of religion was not to govern our temper, and as if
the sin of not doing it, was its own apology. Are we worldlyminded? It is prudence, necessary in providing for our families
-as if the religion of the gospel was fatal to the duties of humanity, and as if God would accept of the reproach thus cast
upon himself as an apology for making the world our god.
Are we peevish and fretful under the little crosses of life; do
we murnmur under disappointments, or despond under afflictions? Such things are irritating, or provoking, or trying, or
hard to be borne by such creatures as we are —as if the very
events of Providence which are designed to try our hearts, by
detecting their depravity, excuse it. Do we neglect to profess
Christ before men? We are not Christians-it would be hypocrisy in us to profess to be what we are not-as if the Lord
Jesus Christ, when he shall come to judge the quick and the
dead, will excuse a refusal to profess his name and espouse his
cause, because we were his enemies, and never thought his
cause of sufficient importance to espouse it. But it is not
necessary to proceed further to expose the emptiness of the
particular excuses that are offered for disobedience to the will
of God. There is one principle which exhibits them in all
their vanity. God has not revealed his law and precepts for
men to alter. He knew the character, conditions and circum



MAKING EXCUSES.                   375
stances of each and every individual; he knew how to measure
their exact obligations, what duties they ought to perform,
and, of course, what laws to prescribe. Such laws he has prescribed. He knew all the reasons which would or could exist
to impair the obligations of each, to extenuate the guilt of
transgression; and as a righteous sovereign, if one such reason
could exist, would have made the exception. But he has'not
made it. He has issued his commands as the infinitely wise,
holy, just sovereign of men, without specifying a single exception to the demand of unqualified obedience. Can man make
these exceptions?. Can he assign reasons to set aside his obligations, or to palliate the sin of one known transgression or
command of God? Can he invent reasons which will serve
the purpose of an apology, which Omniscience never discovered? Will it thus appear when he shall be summoned to the
bar of God, that the righteous Judge had been unreasonable
in a single demand? No; after all the ingenuity of carnal
sophistry, to excuse and palliate the sins of men, each will
appear replete with unabated guilt, and worthy of unmitigated damnation.
II. All excuses for disobedience to the will of God are criminal. To make an excuse for what we have done is impenitence, and for not doing what we ought to do, is determined
disobedience.
In the one case it is impenitence. The very nature and
design of an excuse for past transgressions, is to conceal, or
rather to take away, their guilt. The moment that any action
becomes excusable in our estimation, it ceases of course to be
sinful. Its moral turpitude is gone, and no cause or ground
for repentance remains. It is not a self-excuser who repents;
he has nothing to repent of. So, on the other hand, it is not
the true penitent that frames excuses, for the obvious reason
that in his own estimation he is guilty. What is repentance,
but a deep sense of sin; and what is a deep sense of sin, if it
does not involve a deep sense that we are wholly without
excuse?  I-ow, then, can the holy relentings of repentance




376               MAKING EXCUSES.
reach the heart- of him who is clad in this impenetrable armor
of excuses and apologies  -Shoot at him the arrows of the
Almighty, they fall without effect at his feet. Array before
him the demands and terrors of the divine law, force him to
go alone with his God and extort the confession of guilt from
his lips-but is he convinced of sin, is he penitent? No. His
heart is beyond the power of truth or motives-yea, the Holy
Ghost cannot reach- it.  He has found an expedient more
powerful than the atoning blood of his Saviour; his excuses
not only take away the curse, but annihilate the guilt of sin!
After all:that can be done he is a self-excused, impenitent
rebel against God.
Again, excuses for what we ought to do are no other than
purposes of disobedience.  This connection between an excuse and the purpose to continue in sin is obvious. What
we take pleasure in, we employ no excuses to avoid. When
we are hungry, do we invent excuses for not eating? or, when
we are fatigued, for not taking rest? And who that delights
in the service of Godj who that is not determined to rebel
against him would offer apologies for disobedience? How do
the hosts of heaven perform the divine will? Is it anI obedience from which they shrink? Do angels rack their ingenuity
to find some reason why they should intermit their songs?
What if they should? Would they evince the spirit of obedience?  Would God be satisfied with that reluctant service
which would be looking about for some apologies to authorize
the neglect of it? What, then, is the language of an excuse
for disobeying any of God's commandments but a direct and
avowed declaration of a purpose to disobey? What but a
most undeniable proof that the service of God is abhorred?
Besides, every excuse is a direct denial of every obligation to
obedience. If obligation exists, there can be no excuse; if
the excuse be valid, there can be no obligation. Thus the
authority of God is denied and disclaimed upon principle.
The supreme Majesty of heaven and earth has no right to
command. His authority is usurpation; his government a




MAKING EXCUSES.                   377
lawless despotism; himself a tyrant. Guilt, worthy of the
endless wrath of God, belongs to the sinner, or it does not. If
it does not, what shall we say of the God that threatens it? If
that misery is not deserved by man, infinite blame attaches to
Mhin who inflicts it. God declares that he will inflict this
dreadful punishment on sinners for not making to themselves
new hearts; for not repenting of sin; for not believing in the
Saviour; for not submitting to his authority.  The sinner
arrays his excuses, and affirms that no blame belongs to him
for the failure to obey. To whom, then, does it belong? To
God. Yes, every excuse he offers lays the blame on God,
and makes him the veriest tyrant that ever terrified the heart
of man. Rebellion is, of course, legalized; the standard of
revolt should be reared throughout his vast dominions, and
he who should -dethrone the living God    but I need not
proceed; it is plain that these excuses for disobeying God,
which are so common the guilt of which is so little thought
of-are enmity, war, high-treason, against the majesty of heaven
and earth, in its most horrid form-in its naked aspect.
III. This practice is most ruinous.
The real nature of disobedience to God cannot be altered
by any delusive covering we can give it. On its real character God will fix his own estimate; and while we cannot deceive
him, in deceiving ourselves-if that be any consolation-we
shall have great and lamentable success. To that heart which
" is deceitful above all things," self-delusion is an easy task.
Nor is there any form in which it can prove more certainly
fatal than by leading us to make habitual excuses.  These
persuade us to cherish faults by whispering peace; they produce complacency and satisfaction in that very conduct which
God pronounces worthy of his wrath; conduct us to the brink
of the precipice, and blind us to our danger. And who shall
hope to conquer his sins who refuses to see them; who shall
turn from and escape the danger on which he shuts his eyes?
Not only is God provoked to withdraw his Spirit, but the
conscience is steeled against conviction, and a fatal barrier is




378:              MAKING EXCUSES.
raised between the soul and eternal life. This obstacle must
be taken away. The sinner must take the shame and guilt of
sin to himself, and clear his Maker, or nothing can be done for
him. Until he shall strip himself of this covering of excuses,
until he shall throw off the disguise which hides him from
himself, he takes the readiest and surest way to ruin himself
forever.  He must lie down under a sense that he is without excuse; he must let the conviction come in and possess
the soul-with all its tremblings-that he deserves hell.
This is the first step that ever was or ever will be taken
toward salvation. If he will not take it, if he will stand
there excusing himself till he dies, he will, he must, inevitably
perish.
Toward this sin, God has manifested his signal displeasure.
Thus his wrath was kindled against Moses, when he excused
himself fiom his mission into Egypt. Jonah, for a similar
offense, was cast into the deep, "in the midst of the seas; the
waters compassed him about, even to the soul." And concerning those who rejected the invitation to the gospel feast,
by excuses, the Saviour declared, "None of those men who
were bidden shall taste of my supper."  For the contemptuous rejection of the Saviour by excuses, the anger of God
was kindled against the Jews-he cast them off from being
his people, and gave them up to blindness of mind and hardness of heart. And why should the principles of his providential administration be changed toward us?  If God has
expressed his displeasure against this sin, in his most faithful
servants in other days-if he has abandoned sinners to final
impenitence and ruin- how can we expect a dispensation in
our favor, who live under the meridian light and heavenly
privileges of his gospel? " He that covereth his sins, shall not
prosper."  The threatenings of the living God are not empty
menaces. If he has executed them on sinners in other ages,
he will execute on the more flagrant offenders in this. Thus,
whether we consider the nature of these excuses, or the manner in which God regards them, the.y are among the most




MAKING EXCUSES.                     379
fearful harbingers of his wrath. Facts show it. We have
seen sinners persisting in this expedient of warding off the
power of divine truth, and the force of their obligations to
God and to the Saviour. Year after year, we have seen them
on the verge of eternity, still palliating, in this way, a life of
past rebellion. We have seen them, as far as the human eye
could judge, abandoned to their delusions, believing a lie, till
death placed his cold hand on the mouth open to utter its last
excuse, and the soul was summoned to judgment.
REMARKS.
1. IHow infatuating is the power of sin!
The power of sin to deceive, is indeed, apparent in almost
every thing; but how strikingly it appears, when it persuades
man that he is under no obligation to his God-when, by its
carnal sophistry, it persuades the mind that the demands of
God are unjust. And yet this is the design, and this, in a
greater or less degree, the effect of every excuse for disobedience to the divine will. It is true, indeed, that these apologies, when first invented, may be suspicious, and even known
to be false; they are, indeed, for the most part, adopted from
a consciousness of sin, of a weak point which needs defense.
But by a little repetition, they soon become valid, as to all
practical purposes: on the strength of them, rebellion against
God is persevered in with a quiet conscience; the judgment'
day, if thought of at all, is anticipated with reliance on these
apologies, as a relief from all its terrors. In this book of God,
it is written in letters of light, it is declared by the voice of
eternal truth, that the impenitent transgressor is in a state of
condemnation and wrath. The gulf of destruction stares them
in the face, and must soon close upon them forever. And what
do they hope? To convict the all-perfect God of error and
mistake in his demands-to convict him, either through weakness or design, of injustice-to flatter the ear of Omnipotence,
and to beguile the scrutiny of the omniscient Spirit? Anld




380:              MAKING EXCUSES.
thus they are venturing onward to eternity! And this is your
infatuation, my dear hearers,. in every excuse, and apology,
and pretext, which you invent or offer for your sins! And,
if there is such deceitfulness in your heart-if it can thus seduce you into deliberate, settled disobedience to God and contempt of his Son, have you not cause for trembling? Is it not
time to turn your eye inward to your own bosom, and measure the effects of such delusion? You have seen how unworthy, how empty and absurd your excuses are. Will they
acquire new importance at the throne of God? Will God
accept of mere insult, as the ground of exemption from his
righteous curse? Dismiss, I beseech you, this thought of madness, and let your lips never utter another excuse for offending
God, and rejecting your only Saviour.
2. How opposite is the spirit of excuses, to the spirit which
the gospel inculcates.
The one is the spirit of treachery and impenitence-the
other, of frank, open confession, and of devout contrition.
The one a spirit of determined perseverance in sin, the other
a spirit of prompt, cheerful obedience. The one, prays, "' Have
me excused;" -the other, "Search me, 0 God!"  The one
owns no sin-the other pours out its confessions in no false or
scanty measure-" I thank thee that I am not as other men
are," -"God be merciful to me a sinner."  The language of
one is,. I knew thee that thou wert an hard master,"-that of
the other, "My mneat is to do the will of my Father in heaven."
The one is the spirit of determined rebellion, which the torments of hell will never abate-the other, the delighted spirit
of the heavenly hosts, to be heightened in degree, and made
more blessed in its effects throughout eternity. By which,
my brethren, are we actuated? Do we examine ourselves to
discover our sins, to detect our.guilt in all its enormity? Or
do we resort to shifts, and evasions, and subterfuges to conceal
our guilt from our own view, or that of God? Are we frank,
and free, and full in our confessions; and do we bear this mark
of a child of God, a ready obedience to do his will?.God will
10*                                      15




-MAKINKG EXCUSES.:381
not accept of a spirit of duplicity and evasion, but "he that
confesseth and forsaketh his sins, shall find mercy."
-3. Let all self-excusers reflect how they must appear at the
judgment of the great day.
Should they be permitted to offer these excuses at the bar
of God, how will they look? You plead your inability to
love God. Plead it, then, at the judgment-seat of Christ. Go
there and expose your ingratitude and enmity, by telling the
Judge on the throne, the Saviour that died for you, whose
glories fill heaven with rapture-tell him you were so much
his enemy, that you could not love him-that you could not
help trampling his blood underfoot-tell the living God you
could not help making him a liar, by not believing the record
of his Son. Plead the incessant occupation of your time-exhibit then its results-show your bags of gold, your houses,
your farms, your shops, and tell him these so occupied you,
that you had no time for the concerns of your soul. Bring
forward these and other apologies. Will they dazzle the eye
of Omniscience-will they beguile the Judge of the quick and
the dead-will these atone for the sin of the soul-will such
insult and trifling avail with the almighty God, when seated
on the throne of final judgment? You know it will not. Why,
then, cheat your soul in thoughtless security by apologies like
these? Why, hastening as you are to your last account, are
you not now willing to see yourself as God sees you, and as
you will then appear in your own eyes?  Why attempt to
mock an omniscient God-why cheat your soul into hopeless
perdition? God knows your excuses are false. Men know it,
and you know it. You know that you ought to love God and
believe on his Son. You know that all the apologies you have
ever framed are false, and that a single glance from God's allseeing eye will dissolve them all,
Yes, my dear hearers, the season of apologies will soon be
past. Death will stiffen the smoothest tongue of self-conceit,
and blot out at a stroke these refuges of lies. The light of
eternity will present your polluted soul in all its nakedness




382              MAKING EXCUSES.
and deformity before the tribunal of God; nor will an excuse
be thought of to mitigate your sill. Not your excuses, but
the great decision, repeated from the throne of the Eternal,
will stand- "He that believeth not, shall be damned."




XXVIII.
HARDENING THE HEART.
HEB. iii. 7, 8.
"To-day if ye will hear his voice, harden not your hearts."
AMID all the demonstrations of the power and goodness of
God in behalf of the Jews, they had still hardened their hearts
by their continued and aggravated rebellions. At length,
wearied and grieved by their provocations, he formed the
irrevocable purpose, and confirmed it by an oath, that they
should not enter the land of promise, the type of the heavenly
country.
This severe judgment of God, against these ancient Israelites, was appealed to by the Holy Ghost in the days of David,
as a solemn warning to unbelievers of his time. The same
use was made of it by the Apostle Paul; and it is left on record as equally applicable to those of similar character in
every succeeding age. "To-day if ye will hear his voice,
harden not your hearts."
The object of the apostle is evidently to enforce an immediate compliance with the demands of the gospel and the voice
of the Son of God. It is as if he had said, if you ever intend
to hear and obey the voice of God, no longer harden your
hearts. No time must be lost. With a hard heart the gospel
never can be obeyed; and if you continue still to harden your
heart, you will have fearful reason to fear that after the example just cited God will swear in his wrath, " Ye shall not
enter into my rest."
In considering the exhortation not to harden the heart, our




384            HARDENING   IIE HEART.
attention will be directed to what it is to harden the heart,
how it is done, and the reason for hardening it no longer.
I. To harden the heart is to cherish a voluntary insensibility to God and divine objects.
Sin consists in electively preferring God to the world. This
state of mind continued-that is, the mind, the heart withholding its affections from God and fixing them on the world,
is the act of hardening the heart, the act of perpetuating this
moral insensibility toward God and things divine.
The soul of man is as truly capable of deriving those affections and emotions from those divine objects which correspond
with their nature, as is wax of deriving the image from the
seal. That state of mind in which man voluntarily counteracts and resists this influence of truth, is what the Scriptures
term hardness of heart.
Fears of punishment may occupy the soul, conscience may
awake and inflict its severest pangs, and yet the heart remain
hard. In the world of woe there is no stupefaction in the
conscience, and yet hardness of heart reigns without the least
mitigation. The question, then, is, not whether we have feeling, but whether we have any such feelings toward God,
toward Christ, toward sin, as are appropriate to these objects?
Have we that love to God which is due to that perfect Being?
-Have we that faith without which we cannot please him? If
not, then it is strictly true that we have no feeling. The
heart, in respect to divine and eternal realities, is as cold as
ice, and as hard as the rock.
This state of mind is voluntary and criminal. The commands of God forbid, substantially, nothing but a hard and
unfeeling heart.  The threatenings of God are denounced
against nothing but a hard, unfeeling heart. Is that, then,
a matter of irresistible necessity, or is it free, voluntary, and
criminal action, which a perfect God forbids and punishes
with eternal death?  The same truth is evinced by human
consciousness. There are some things that do not depend on
the will.  Every one knows that it does not depend on his




HARDENING  THE HEART.                  385
will, when fire is applied to his flesh, whether he shall feel or
not. But how is it, when the realities of God's revelation are
presented to the mind?  Every one knows that he electively
holds his affections to his idol, to the world, and from God.
He knows that it is a matter of choice with him. Ile is conscious of a voluntary act or state of the mind, the very object
and design of which is to prevent all right feeling. fIe is not
only conscious of insensibility, a state of wrong affection, but
he is also conscious, that he cherishes, guards and protects it
against an invading power that would otherwise, at least, carry
agitation and alarm to his inmost soul. He retreats from that
scene of manifestation, where otherwise the influence of such
realities as a present God, an offered Saviour, and the realities
of eternity would tell on his spirit; and he knows it. He
knows, therefore, that his heart is hard, because he chooses it
should be hard.
This will more clearly appear, if we inquire,
II. HIow the heart is hardened.
In answer to this inquiry, I remark,
1. By fixing its affections supremely on the world.
So long as the heart is supremely set on the world, there
can be no true sensibility to God and divine things.  "No
mnan can serve two masters, for he will either hate the one and
love the other, or cleave to the one and despise the other."
The same heart cannot have two supreme objects, two Gods at
the same time. That on which the heart is supremely fixed
will engross its sensibilities, and when the world is that object
there is, there can be no sensibility called forth to the glory of
God, the excellency of Christ, or the joys of heaven. Accordingly no persons furnish more decisive proof of hardness of
heart, than they who are actively engrossed in worldly pursuits. Look at the man in whose heart avarice has fixed its
dominion, and who, embarking all his desires in the pursuit,
and all his hopes in the acquisition of riches, makes an idol of
his wealth. Or the man of ambition, who for the gaze of this
world's admiration, makes an idol of fame.  Or the man of
Vol. I. —17                                   25




386           HARDENING  THE HEART.
pleasure, whose every wish is directed, and every hope bounded by anticipations of sensual indulgence. You need only
look at such a person, at one whose heart is thus devoted to
the world in any form, to see that insensibility to the. will and
glory of God marks his whole deportment.  A striking exemplification of this was furnished by that miser whose hand,
cold in death, still held its firm grasp upon his gold, when his
spirit had gone to the bar of God.
2. The heart is hardened by refusing to turn the attention
to divine things.
No truth is plainer than this; that a mall will not feel what
he does not think of. In reproving the stupidity of his ancient people, God saith, "The ox knoweth his owner, and the
ass his master's crib, but Israel doth not know, my people will
not considers."  The grand and only cause of hardness of heart
in multitudes is just the same. The things of eternity are not
thought of intensely enough; they are not seen distinctly
enough to produce feeling according to the laws of our mental
constitution. They are ever kept in the background of contemplation. Other objects of contemplation, other objects of
thought. are suffered constantly to intervene, and thlus to move
and excite all the feelings of the soul. The glimpses which
such persons may have of the realities on the other side of
time, are so faint, and so rare, that the real nature of those
objects is never seen. Their clearest perception only discovers
dark, obscure, undefined shadows in eternity; while, for the
most part, these great realities are thrown off into the region
of complete forgetfulness. Of course, nothing is felt. The
consequence cannot be otherwise. The revealed glories of
God, unthought of, must leave the heart as hard and unmoved
as it would be were there no God, no Christ, and no heaven.
3. The heart is hardened by excusing sin.
The object of every excuse formed by the mind is to impair
or destroy a sense of obligation and guilt. This object attained,
the power of every cause of right moral feeling is annihilated.
For what right moral feeling can that man possess who is dead




HARDENING  THE HEART.                   387
to all sense of obligation to God,' and to all::sense of guilt in
rebelling: against him?  It is true, indeed, that all sense- of
obligation is not easily eradicated from the human mind. -But
it is an easy and a common thing fatally to impair it by excuses and palliations. Whatever be the nature or shape of
the excuse devised, whether it be derived:from the character
or purposes of Godj the character and relations of man, or the
pressure and necessity of worldly avocations, just so far as an
excuse serves to prevent a frank and full confession of. sin, and
abates the influence of our obligation to obey God now, so far
it hardens the heart. The reason is plain. The only cause of
moral sensibility is wholly resisted, and the heart is opened to
the full influence of every thing that can benumb and stupefy.
Excuses for sin and hardness of heart are inseparable. This
is the most obvious dictate.of:common sense. Is not that man
a hard-hearted sinner, who even thinks of an excuse for disobeying the living God a moment?
4. The heart is hardened by presumptuous hopes and expectations from futurity.
Nothing is more common than such hopes, founded on the
purpose of future repentance. Nothing has led so many thou;
sands onward to the brink of eternity,: and plunged them uinprepared into it, as the delusive hope that God's patience will
consult their convenience. It is this vely dream that now
holds this guilty world in the. deep: slumlers of death, while
the voice of: God is sounding* in their.ears. The effect is: unavoidable, and is obvious by every such. sinIer's own experience.
He knows that his present quiet in sin is the direct and in
some sense the exclusive effect of these very hopes. Hle knows
that without them he could not resist the terrors of his condition, and that he cherishes these hopes for the very purpose of
suppressing all sensibility to divine things. He knows that
they answer this very purpose, or he should not resort to them.Does he doubt on this poi.nt?  Would he not then feel, did he
know that this was his last hour of mercy?  Should the curtain of eternity now rise directly before him, would he not;




388           HARDENING  THIE HEART.
feel? Yes, and therefore he refuses to regard life as the vapor
which it is; therefore he deadens all present sensibility to
eternal things, from hopes of futurity. The very language of
such hopes is, the authority and glory of God shall not be felt
now; the calls of an inviting Saviour, and the excellence of
his character shall not be felt now; the evil of sin and the
awful realities of a future world shall not be felt now; an experiment shall be made how much provocation God will bear;
the interests of the soul are not in jeopardy, and all anxiety
shall be quieted; all sensibility shall be deadened by hopes
from futurity. I need not say how fearfully inevitable is the
effect designed. These hopes of a future repentance, fellowsinner, are a shield to your heart, which the arrows of the
Almighty will never penetrate.
Having thus shown what it is to harden the heart, and some
of the ways in which it is done, I proceedIII. To enforce the exhortation no longer to harden the
heart, by the considerations implied in the text " To-day if
ye will hear his voice."  The declaration implies,
1. That to harden the heart is a fatal obstacle to hearing
and obeying the gospel.
The apostle evidently makes it indispensable to hearing the
voice of God to any salutary purpose, that the heart be not
hardened. The very nature of the case shows it. So long as
the heart remains hard, that voice which speaks to us fiom
heaven speaks in vain. IHow can man obey the command to
love the Lord his God with all the heart, while that heart remains stupidly insensible to all the excellence and glory of
the divine character?  How can he intrust his soul, with an
affectionate confidence and heartfelt joy, to the Lord Jesus
Christ, while his heart is cold and dead to all the love and
mercy of his Saviour? How can he repent of sin while his
heart is fortified against every humble relenting, and every
contrite emotion for its odiousness and turpitude?  I-Iow can
he be hastening a preparation for heaven, when the attractive
glories of that world are repelled by a heart sordidly riveted to




HARDENING THE HEART.                  389
the atoms of earth? Obey God with a hard heart! That God
whose every demand reaches the heart, and requires its strongest sensibilities, its purest, holiest affections! It cannot be
supposed for a moment. No matter what fears and anxieties
may alarm the soul; no matter what convictions of guilt may
harass the conscience; no matter what service may be rendered by the feet, the hands or the lips, if the heart continue
shut to the holy influence of divine realities, there is, there can
be no obedience to a single divine command. Whatever reason, then, there is in the commands of the living God-why
they should now be obeyed-there is all that, why the sinner
should no longer harden his heart. Whatever there is in the
beaming glories of the Godhead, whatever there is in the
claims of a creating God, of an all-providing God, of a re,
deeming God, whatever there is in the majesty and authority
of a reigning God, why his voice should be heard and obeyed
to-day, it all combines to enforce the exhortation, "To-day,
harden not your hearts. To harden the heart is death to every
right feeling, to every holy affection. So long as you harden
your heart, you hear not the voice, you break every command
of him that speaketh from heaven.
2. To harden the heart is the only obstacle to an immediate
compliance with the demands of the gospel.
It is clearly implied in the text, that if sinners will not
harden their hearts to-day, they will hear his voice to-day.
To be perfectly satisfied of this truth, we have only to suppose
the hardness of the heart to be wholly removed; that instead
of a heart whose every sensibility is moved, and whose every
affection is engrossed by the world, the mind becomes susceptible to divine realities, and opens itself to their influence, as
it would were the sinner standing on the threshold of eternity?
Do you say man is depraved, and has in his nature no sensibility to divine things? Depraved! —without this sensibility he
could not be depraved at all. The more he has of it, if he does
not love these objects, the more depraved he is. Let us look
a little at this. Does not the poet tell us right, when he says,




390           HA-RDENING THE HEART.
of the fell spirit that entered paradise, and looked on the moral
beauty of an unfallen fellow-angel,:that "he saw virtue in her
shape how lovely, and felt how awful goodness is?" And has
man no sensibility to the revealed glories of a perfect God?
Is not his character clearly revealed to our intellectual apprehension 2? And is not the character of man, of a human benefactor, an object of distinct apprehension and vivid emotion?
And is there not enough in divine objects, revealed as they
are in the brightness of noon-day, to secure their true and
proper influence on our affections. Is not character in such
a case an object of our distinct apprehension?  And does the
God who put: life into us, who sustains us every moment, and
multiplies - his blessings on us and all his visible creation, filrnish no proof of what he is? Can we rely on this deceitful,
empty, disappointing world to make us happy; and yet can we
see no security, no ground of assurance in the promises of the
living and unchangeable God to bless us?  Surely the difficulty is not here. The reality, the nature, and the worth of
divine-things are shown us in the brightness of noon-day. And
as to the sufficiency of these things, is there not enough to produce the effect? Is there not enough in the worth and majesty
of. the Eternal-is there not enough in that assemblage of all
that is pure, and holy, and gracious in the Lord Jesus-is
there not enough in the joys of a blessed eternity on the one
hand, and the terrors of an undone eternity on the other, to
awaken every holy affection, and fix every holy purpose in
such a being as man? There can be but one answer to the
question. Do you say you are dependent on the Spirit of
God?;True. But what makes you dependent onthe Spirit
of God?  Nothing but a ]hard heart. Cease to harden your
heart.:-Let go of the world with your heart; turn yourl
thoughts on God, and Christ, and heaven; give up your mnlind,
your heart to the sacred influence that would come upon it,
and you would no longer need the HIoly Spirit to soften your
heart. Do this, and you would no longer be dependent on the
Spirit. Do this, and there is nothing in the way -of your sal



HARDENING  THE HEART.                   391
vation. Do this, and instantly would your heart go forth in
sweet and holy affection to such a Saviour as Christ. The
Holy Ghost surely does not prevent such affection in your
heart by any thing he does, or fails to do. There is nothing
in God, nothing in man, nor in the universe to prevent immediate obedience to the divine will, but every thing to secure it
as an inevitable effect. What weight does this consideration
give to. the exhortation of the apostle?  Nothing, absolutely
nothing, prevents any man from now obeying the voice of God
but a cherished obduracy of heart. The only obstacle to an
immediate submission to the gospel and a participation in all
its blessings, is, a voluntary insensibility to the amazing and
glorious realities which that gospel discloses. "To-day if ye
will hear his voice, harden not your hearts."
3. To abstain from hardening the heart, is as easily done at
the present as any future time.
This is clearly implied in the urgency with which the immediate performance of the duty is pressed in the text. God has
never, in a single instance, required man to obey him to-morrow. [But every call, and evely command, and every promise,
brings duty to man with the urgency of a present business, a
matter on hand; something now to be done. It comes accompanied with the proclamation, " Behold, now is the accepted
time, now is the day of salvation."  And is it credible that it
is as well, or even better, to postpone compliance to a future
day?  But this is not all. As a moral agent, man has all the
powers and faculties of moral agency, all he ever will possess.
He has every qualification, in this sense, to perform present
duty, as truly as Gabriel has; and should he be sanctified
wholly by divine grace, and admitted into heaven, he would
receive no new faculties; he will only use these faculties differently fromr what he now does.
As it respects means, the Bible has poured all its treasures
at his feet, and not another truth or motive or object will ever
be presented which that revelation has not unfolded. "M What
more could have been done in my vineyard that I have not




392           HARDENING  THE HEART.
done in it 2"-this is his own vindication, and I repeat it in his
own words. As it respects the difficulties of performing the
duty, these will not be diminished. Is it difficult to resist the
attractions with which the world assails the heart? The world
will remain the same tempting world-the same, till it is
burnt up. And if you wait till the world cease to tempt, you
must wait forever. Is it more difficult to resist these attractions now than in more advanced age? But the world has
lost none of its power over the sinner whose locks have whitened in sinning against God. Is it difficult to overcome habits
of sin already established? Such habits continued only multiply their cords and bind with a firmer grasp. Will it be
easier to regard the admonitions of conscience by still longer
stifling its voice? Will it be easier to fix your thoughts on
the unseen realities of your future being the longer you refuse
to think of theml; will it be easier to abandon your excuses the
longer you rely on their validity at the judgment-seat; will it
be easier to renounce youi' quieting, presumptuous hopes and
expectations from futurity, the longer you thus embolden yourself in sin; will it b)e easier to submit to the authority of God
the longer you contemn it; will it be easier to delight in his
perfections the longer you loathe and abhor them; will it be
easier to intrust your soul to the Lord Jesus Christ the longer
you despise his salvation and crucify him afresh? Will these
things be easier to-nmorrow than to-day; at any future timethan now; will they be more easily done when every cause
which has secured the irpenitence and perdition of thousands
shall have augmented its power on you a hundred-fold?
4. The last consideration is, that those who now harden
their heart may never hear and obey the gospel.
This appears, if we consider, in all such cases, the increase
of guilt. To harden the heart against the voice of God once,
is a high measure of provocation; and if it be the tendency of
sin, of accumulated guilt, to exhaust the patience of God and
to provoke his speedy vengeance, what must be the effect of
hardening the heart with the formal design of continuing to




HARDENING THE HEART.                 393
rebel against him? What must be the effect of such a purpose, with all the accumulation of guilt, in hating God, rejecting his Son, grieving his Spirit, which it brings with it through
successive months and years? When in its own nature it involves every act of future sin; when its whole strengthstrength, too, thus to offend God-is derived from the fact
that God is good and long-suffering? What purpose embodies
baser ingratitude, a more direct insult to God, greater hardihood in rebellion, and a greater amount of crime; and what
purpose could the sinner form to provoke God's instant vengeance if this does not?
Again, there is a fearful principle of God's administration
which arrays all its alarms before such persons. " Ephraim is
joined to idols, let him alone."  "Because I have called and ye
refused, I have stretched out my hand and no man regarded, I
also will laugh at your calamity; I will mock when your fear
cometh." " If we sin willfully, after we have received the knowledge of the truth, there remaineth no more sacrifice for sin."
" Oh," said the compassionate Saviour, " oh that thou hadst
known, even thou, in this thy day, the things which belong to
thy peace."  God, then, often abandons willful sinners to
their own chosen way; and the principle is as applicable to
sinners now living as to thousands who admit it in everlasting
burnings. Not one who hardens his heart to-day can prove
that to-morrow will not be a day too late. In connection with
these things is to be considered the frailty of health, of reason,
and of life. How easily, how commonly, how suddenly, are
our fellow-men overtaken with disease and pain that utterly
disqualify for the great work of turning to God? How common are those stupors that benumb every faculty-that delirium that extinguishes reason? How often does death come
without a single warning, or at least, without the expectation
of its approach. How many within our own acquaintance
has death snatched away, with no thought of their state, till
they opened their eyes in eternity?
Further, it is probable that he who resolves to-day to harden
17*




394           HARD'ENING  THE HEART.
his heart will continue to harden it to the end of life,- because,
on the one hand, there are no reasons for the resolution now
which will not exist hereafter; and, on the other, there are
all the reasons for renouncing it now that ever will exist.
Habit will give still greater power to every cause which now
operates to produce the purpose of delay and greatly diminish
the influence of every counteracting cause. As to the resolution to wait for the interposition of divine grace, the tendency
of such a resolution is fatal. No sinner ever was converted
while hardening his heart and stupidly waiting for God to
convert him. The only reasonable expectation is, that the resolution to defer will continue till death, and eternal retribution
shall break it; and that he who hardens his heart to-day will
go down to hell amid the fragments of his broken vows and
vain expectations.
I shall conclude the discourse with one remark.. The difficulty of giving your heart to God is not in the time. There
will never be a better time than the present; it may be the
only time; every cause of the damnation of the sinner is only
augmenting its power upon you by delay. No; the difficulty
is not in the time, it is in the heart. You are still hardening
your heart, and you will harden it till you feel that you must
do it no longer. Sooner or later you must feel that now is the
time when this work must be done.  Come, then, anxious
sinner, come to-day, and see and feel the dying necessity of
your case. Indulge not a hope from to-morrow. To-morrow,
the Spirit of God may abandon you; to-morrow, painful disease or wild delirium may seize you; to-morrow may break
upon you in the torments of hell. It will then be too late.
To-day, then, as if it were your only day; to-day, as if to-morrow were known to be a day of darkness and despair; to-day,
as if you knew your soul this night would be required; today, even now, agonize to give your heart to God, your soul
to Christ. Throw away every hope from futurity, and fix the
hour, fix the moment, when, with a holy desperation of
effort, you will commit your soul to the everlasting arms.




HARDENING THE HEART.                  395
Do' it as you would if you already heard the noise and Saw:the: terrors of approaching judgment; do it as you would,
were you to:have but one more- offer of mercy,- one hour
more of probation, but- one moment's respite froim:eternal
damnation.
The subject addresses those who remain stupidly insensible
to their eternal interest.  Mfy dear hearers, is my anxiety
groundless, are my fears without cause, is my conviction without evidence, when I tell you that it is my honest belief that
many of you will continue to harden your hearts and neglect
the great salvation till the day of mercy shall be past? HIave
you not deliberately resolved still to harden your heart and
still to postpone this great concern? Have not the persuasives.
the reasons, and the motives, to defer no longer, been urged
upon you a hundred and a thousand times, and left you with
the same purpose still? On this day of God's merciful visitation you still harden your heart. Even now, all the authority of God, all the weight of eternal realities, all the love of
Jesus, and all the danger of your present state, change not
your purpose to delay or cause it to falter.  Thus is your
guilt accumulating; thus your provocations are multiplying;
thus habit is fixing its iron grasp; thus, while your life is a
vapor, you are treading in the very steps of thousands who
have gone down to hell, and every cause of damnation is augmnenting its power over you. And what sinners were ever
likely to perish, if you are not? My dear hearers, I tremble for
you. You may think my anxiety is groundless, and flatter
yourselves that you shall repent hereafter. That is the very
reason why I tremble for you; that is the very purpose which
I expect will seal your perdition. And it is with such emnotions; it is with such solicitude as this view of your condition
is fitted to produce; it is as if this were the only day in which
you can ever secure God's pardoning mercy; it is as if I knew
that to-morrow you would stand at the bar of God-if I knew
you would to-day cast your last look on that setting sun, and
before it rises again would open your eyes on the scenes of




396          HARDENING THE HEART.
eternity; it is as if I knew that you had only this day's, this
hour's respite, from eternal damnation, that I say to you, in
the words which the Holy Ghost teacheth, " To-day if ye will
hear his voice, harden not your hearts."




XXIX.
THE SINNER'S DUTY TO MAKE HIMSELF A NEW  HIEART.
EZEKIEL xviii. 31.
"And make you a new heart and a new spirit."
I HAVE selected this text for the purpose of explaining and
enforcing the great duty-the sum of all other duties-which
God requires of sinful men.
This command of God was addressed to sinners who impeached the rectitude of his dealings by insinuating that he
punished them unjustly. God solemnly declares the insinuation to be false, absurd, and impious; and, by appealing to
reason and to conscience, shows them that their guilt is their
own. He then calls on them to repent and cast away their
transgressions, and to make them a new heart and a new
spirit.
The plain and important truth which I shall attempt to
establish is, thatIt is the duty of every sinner to mcake himself a new heart.
This will appearI.:Fromr the nature of a new heart.
What, then, is a new heart? Some would answer, it is a
great change in the sinner. And so it is most truly. But the
question is not merely whether the change is great, but what
is it?  Some would say, no one can tell but they who have
experienced it; it is a something which we can know and understand when we experience it, but not till then. But is this
so?  Cannot the sinner understand God's commands and his
own duty before he actually obeys God? Then, to what purpose is the command given? To what punrose is the duty




398             THE SINNER'S DUTY
described or even named?  Why talk about duty which nobody can understand? Is God such a lawgiver and the Bible
such a book? God reveal, and man not able to understand?
Man a moral being, and yet cannot understand what a wrong
or wicked heart is, or what a right or holy heart is? Then a
bad man cannot understand what it is to become a good man,
even if the wished to become one, and so is destitute of that
knowledge which is essential to all obligation-and whether
man is holy or sinful, the object of God's love or abhorrence,
none can tell. But some will tell us a new heart is a change
in the very nature of the mind-in the very structure or constitution of the soul itself —or, in plainer language, God has
made the soul -wrong and he must make it right.  He has
implanted that in every mind which he only can remove, or
he must implant something there which he only can implant.
Well, then, let God, I say, be responsible for his own work.
If he has made men sinners, it belongs to him to unmake
them. To talk of a work which God only performs, as my
duty, is out of the question. If this work be to transform the
very nature which God has given me, and thus to remake the
very work of my Maker-whether it be to create a whole soul
or a part of a soul-then I say I know, and all men know, that
not even the command of God himself could make me feel my
obligation to do this.
But it will be said that the Bible teaches that a new heart
is a new creation, and that, whether we can explain it or not,
sinful man must be literally created anew in Christ Jesus. I
answer: the error is palpable, and consists in one of the grossest of all mistakes, that of supposing the figurative language
of the Bible to be literal. True it is, the Bible speaks of this
change in man as a ~new creation. But it also speaks of it as
a new birth, and as a resurrection from the dead. All these it
cannot be. A new creation is not a new birth, nor is it a resurrection from the dead. Indeed, if the change be truly and
literally any one of these three things, then it cannot be truly
and literally either of the others. And if you may say, it is a




TO MAKE HIMSELF.  A NEW  HEART.              399
literal creation, another may say, it is a literal new birth; and
a third, that it is neither, but a literal resurrection. And what
shall we make of the Bible by such interpretation? Plainly
the language is wholly figurative, since otherwise it must be
contradictory and false. But the case is too plain to be mistaken. The language of the Bible is the language of common
usage, and of common life the world over, in all similar instances. Suppose a man degraded by his vices, idle, profligate-a victim of sensuality and crime-to become reformed
-sober, industrious, respectable-how natural to speak of him
as a new man-a new creature, born again; and even as raised
from the dead! To describe: the greatness of the change, these
forms of speech are to be found in all languages, and in all
ages. None so appropriate to exhibit that moral transformation by which a bad man becomes a good man. A new heart,
then, is nothing more and nothing less than a holy heart, the
grand element of a new moral. character. It is a heart that
loves, and fears, and serves God. It: is called new, as being
entirely another and a different heartfilomn that of the sinner.
The sinful heart is a selfish heart-.a heart fixed in its supreme
affections on the world, and opposed to God. A new heart is
a heart of benevolence or love. It loves God and the sentient
universe. The sinful heart rejects the Saviour, a new heart
believes in him; a sinful heart loves; sin, the new heart hates
it; the sinful heart leads its possessor into sinful practices,
the new heart prompts. to a course of holy obedience to the
will of God. Such is the new heart. And is not every manl
bound to have such a heart as this a To ask whether the sinner ought to make himself a new heart, is to ask whether he
ought to love God, and not to hate him. And no one can be
at a loss for an answer to the question, for one moment.
II. From the nature of man.
Man is an intelligent voluntary being. I-e is capable of
knowing his duty, and of performing it. IIe has understanding;
the power of knowing what is right and what is wrong. He has
the capacity of feeling the motives to right and wrong action.




400             THE SINNER'S DUTY
He has a will or heart; the power of choosing and refusing, or
of loving and hating. IIe not only possesses these powers and
capacities, but he uses them. And the only question is, how
ought he to use them? Ought he to use them right or wrong?
The possession of these powers is the foundation of all accountability. Give them to the stones of the street, and you
make them moral agents. Take them from angels, and they
would cease to be under the least moral obligation. Let these
powers be possessed by any being, and it is impossible to conceive that he should for a moment be free from obligation to
love that most which is most worthy of his love. It matters not
how he uses these powers, whether for good purposes or for
bad purposes; the obligation to use them right remains.
Now sinners possess all these powers. And surely tihe fact,
that they have always used them wrong is no reason why they
are not bound to use them right. The fact that they have always
loved the world more than God, is no reason why they should
not love God more than the world. The degree of their aversion to God is no better reason. For their obligation arises
not from the manner in which they use these powers of moral
agency, but from the possession of them. On this principle
it is that devils are as truly bound to love God, as seraphs
before his throne. They have the same high powers; and the
only difference is, they use them differently. They once used
them right, and are bound still, and will be forever, to use
them right. On the same principle the sinner can no more be
excused for refusing to love God this moment, than Gabriel
could be, were he now to raise a rebellion in heaven. Being
as truly a moral agent, having all the powers that make a'
moral agent, it is as easy, in this respect, to love God, as to
hate God. Man would have no more power to love God were
he actually to love him, than he now has. With ample powers
to love God or to love the world, he is required to love the one,
and forbidden to love the other. Ought he not to comply?
Ought not such a being to put away his old heart of enmity,
and to make himself a new heart of love?




TO MAKE HIMSELF A NEW  HEART.              401
III. God commands sinners to make themselves a new heart.
The text is explicit. " Make you a new heart, and a new
spirit." The Old Testament abounds in similar commands.
" Circumcise the foreskin of your heart, and be no more stiffnecked;" "Oh, Jerusalem, wash thine heart from wickedness, that thou mayest be saved." Our Lord directed all his
precepts to the heart.  "Thou blind Pharisee, cleanse first
that which is within;" "  Make the tree good, that the fruit
may be good also."  In this he was followed by his apostles.
" Cleanse your hands, ye sinners, purify your hearts, ye doubleminded."  The command to repent, so often repeated, and so
strongly pressed upon this sinful world, is precisely of the same
import. The very word used by our Lord and his apostles,
signifies to change the mind-to change the disposition. The
command is, amnend, reform; in other words, matke you a znew
heart.
The same thing is implied in every other command of God
given to sinners. There is not one which does not require a
right heart-the exercise of those affections in which a new
heart consists. Does God require sinners to love him?  It is
with all the heart. Does he require them to believe? It is
with the heart. Does he require them to pray? It is to seek
him with all the heart.  And so of every other command.
The most distinct utterance that ever fell on mortal ears from
the throne of God is, "My Son, give me thine heart;" and
what good reason has any human being to give for refusing to
obey the mandate? I now ask, do these commands-let any
one say no, if he dare —inpose no duty; or, is the sinner's
duty to make him a new heart as binding as the authority of
the living God can make it?
IV. The same thing is evident from facts.
The thing has often been done; and this in two forms.
Thus Adam was once holy-his heart was right with God.
Now, in turning from holiness to sin, he changed his own
heart-he made himself a new heart. And surely, if a man
can turn from right to wrong-from holiness to sin, he can
26




402:  THE SINNER'S DUTY
turn, and ought to turn, from sin-to holiness-from  wrong to
right. HIe who can make, and has made himself a wicked
heart, can make, and ought to make himself a holy heart.
Whether the previous state of the heart be right or wrong, he
himself has made it. And if it be wrong, he is bound to make
it right. As Adam, then, made his heart wicked in turning
fiom holiness to sin, so he was at once bound to turn back to
the service of his Maker. For the same reason, sinners who
have made themselves wicked hearts from the first, are: bound
to make themselves new hearts.
But this is not all. Every Christian has, in fact, through
grace, made himself a new heart. Let me not be misunderstood on this point. What, then, saith the Scripture? "Ye
have purified your souls in. obeying the truth, through the
Spirit;" " Ye have put off the old man, and put on the new
man." True, when the sinner does this, he does it through the
Spirit. Still he does it. IIe purifies his soul. It is his act.
It is an act of obedience. I-e obeys the truth. And what
does God do, when by his Spirit he brings the sinner thus to
act? IHe causes the sinner to love, to repent, to believe-to
give his healt to God in the exercise of these affections. It is
not God who repents, believes, and loves, but the sinner. It
is the sinner and the sinner exercising his own powers in a
right manner through the Spirit —and, in the very manner in
which he can exercise them, and ought to exercise them, without the Spirit.  The Spirit is not given to create any new
powers, or to create any new obligation or new duty; but only
to secure the right exercise of powers, and the performance of
a duty already existing. If it were not the sinner's duty to
make himself a new heart without the Spirit, then the Spirit
could not bring him to perform  such a duty, for the plain
reason that there would be no such duty to be done. God
cannot cause stones and trees to perform acts of duty. It is
the most palpable of all absurdities to suppose that God should
cause a being to perform his duty, who, in his very nature,
can perform no duty, and owes no duty. While, then, every




TO MAKE HIMSELF A NEW  HEART.              403
Christian has, -infact, through the Spirit, made himself a
new heart, so in doing it, he has simply done what it was his
duty. to do, and what every sinner is bound to do without the
Spirit.
V. If sinners are not bound to make themselves a new
heart, then the law of God is not binding on men.
The sum and substance, the very thing which the law of
God requires of the sinner, is a new  heart.'Thou shalt love:
the Lord thy God with all thy heart, and with all thy soul, and
with all thy mind."  This is man's duty, and his perfection as
a moral being. No other change in the sinner is desirable.
God can do nothing better for him than to bring him  to
fulfill this command-nothing better than to bring him  to
love himself, with all his heart, mind, soul, and strengthb. e., as much as he is capable of loving him-neither more
nor less. If, then, the sinner is not bound to make himself a
new -heart hehe is not bound to do as well as he can do —he is
not bound to obey the law of God, and commits no sin in violating it; for there can be no sin in violating a law, when
there is no: obligation to obey it. On the same principle, man
has never broken the divine law. Or, ratllher, there is no law
of God; for a law which imposes no obligaition, is no law. If,
therefore, the sinner has not always been, and is not now
under obligation to make himself a new hleart, or what is the
same thing, to love God, he never has sin;led at all-he commits no sin now. Can any believe this? 1Has God abandoned his law to accommodate rebellion?  HIas h-le given up
that eternal rule of right which measures man's duties by
man's powers?  Can any one believe or say, that ththat law, to
magnify which God gave his beloved Son to die on the cross,
is not binding on sinners? If it is not, the sinner is innocent.
If it is binding, then every sinner always has been, and is now
under the highest obligation to obey it-to make himself a
new heart.
VI. The same is evident from the nature of the gospel.
The gospel is a system of grace from beginning to end. Its




404             THE SINNER'S DUTY
great atonement by blood-the awakening, renewing, and sanctifying influences of the divine Spirit-is all grace. But, as we
have seen, if man is not bound to make himself a new heart, he
is not a sinner. Christ, then, has not died for sinners. IHe
did not come to seek and save those who were lost —those who
deserved eternal death; but those who were innocent. Christ
died for those who needed no salvation.  The awful scene
when, at the death of the Son of God, the sun was darkened, and
the earth to its center shook, was at best a solemn pageantry.
This must be said, or it must be said that men were sinners,
and sinners because they had broken a law they were bound
to obey-because they had not, when they ought to have, a
heart to love and serve the ever-blessed God.
Again. If the sinner is not bound to make himself a new
heart, there is no grace in the influences of the Holy Spirit.
Grace is favor shown to sinners-to the ill-deserving.  If,
then, man is not bound to make himself a new heart, without
the aids of the divine Spirit-then he is not to blame, is not
ill-deserving for not having such a heart, and of course there
is no grace in giving him such a heart. Were God to withhold the aids of his Spirit, and threaten to punish man for not
having a new heart-for not repenting, it would be an act of
injustice. The sinner can say with perfect truth, either God
mlust not denounce punishment against me, or he must furnish
me with the aids of his Spirit, which are requisite to enrable
me to perform my duty. It is a matter of plain equity. If'
God denounce punishment against the sinner, the sinner can
claim the aid of his Spirit on the score of justice, and God is
bound to furnish it. And where is grace?.Where is grace
in a gift which God is bound to bestow-in a gift, which the
sinner can of right demand? It is plain, that the whole system of grace is annihilated. Every word in the gospel about
grace should be stricken out.  "Grace is no more grace."
Every reason for gratitude and praise is taken away. Saints
on earth, and saints in heaven, have no song to raise to him
who washed them in his blood, and renewed them by his




TO MAKE HIMSELF A NEKW HEART.             405
Spirit. He was bound to do it. Convince the Son of God of
this-persuade them before the throne to shout no more the
praises of redeeming grace-take the crown from Jesus' head
-tell the Holy Ghost, that he has done only what he was in
justice bound to do; or, admit that you are bound to make
you a new heart and a new spirit, and that the wrath of God
is your desert for not doing it.
VII. Finally, the character of God decides the truth of our
doctrine.
Here I present the simple question of reason and of equity.
Ought the sinner to love the all-perfect God? God, his
Maker, his Preserver, Benefactor, Saviour —God, the best
friend he has in the universe- God, whose character is infinite excellence, combining all that is comprehensive in wisdom, vast in power, enrapturing in goodness and mercy —
claims the sinner's heart-claims it of right-claims it under
his own promise and oath to give all he can give to bless. In
opposition is arrayed the world, which deceives, ensnares, corrupts, and destroys the soul forever. And can reason-can
conscience hesitate as to the reasonableness and the equity of
these opposing claims?  See what a God Jehovah is! Behold his glory which is above the heavens! Look into that
eternal temple where he unvails those glories! How angels
love! How all heaven loves, exults, and sings as they behold
him face to face! Such a God there is, and he claims the
sinner's heart. Now, produce the objects of your affectionyour wealth, your honor, your pleasures-bring forward your
vanity and  vexation of spirit; and say, whether this, or the
ever-blessed God, deserves your heart! Let any Christianlet any sinner-let any devil answer.
R EMAR KS.
1. They who deny the sinner's power as a moral agent to
make himself a new heart, deny the scriptural doctrine of
the divine influence, or the work of the Holy Spirit.




406              THE SINNER'S DUTY
What is the work of the Holy Spirit in changing the sin-ner's heart?. It is that influence or operation by which he
brings the sinner, in. the free unconstrained use of his own
moral powers, to fix his heart: on God. It is not the creation
of any new mental power or property, but it is an influence
which secures simply and solely, in a complete moral agent,
the right use of powers already possessed, and which he has
hitherto always perverted; a work which the Holy Ghost cannot accomplish in any being except in a complete moral agent;
for it is a self-evident absurdity to suppose a being to use
powers in a right manner which he does not possess.
Shall we, then, be told that the work of the Spirit is a literal
creation of some new mental property-some new constitutional taste, relish, or something nobody can tell what; and
that it is heresy-damnable heresy-to deny it? And is it
so?,-The work of the Holy Spirit. in regeneration, the literal
creation of a new soul, either in whole or in part? You may
as well say that the work of the Spirit is building the Tower.of Babel. The work of the IIoly Spirit is not such a work.
Every human soul, ever since the apostasy as well as before,
is made in God's image, as an apostle teaches. In speaking
of the tongue, he: says, "Therewith bless we God, even the
Father, and therewith curse we: men, which are made after the
similitude of God."  Not, indeed, that man is made holy, but
made an intelligent, voluntary being, with all the mental powers in kind which pertain to God himself...Otherwise, he could
not be a sinner. In creating souls, God's work is perfect, and
not to be mended. And to deny this, and to maintain that
the work of the Spirit consists in making a new soul either in
whole or in part-to maintain that it is any thing but securing the right use of powers already possessed by the sinnerthat is the heresy. No; it is moral change. The influence of
the Spirit is that mysterious influence that moves upon, softens, and wins a rebel heart to the love of God-an influence
under which: the sinner, in the free.exercise of his. own adequate powers, loves, believes, and obeys God his Saviour




TO MAKE HIMSELF A NEW HEART.              407
-a work of moral transformation-a work compared with
which the creation of a new soul-aye, the creation of the
heavens and the earth-shall not be remembered nor come
into mind.
2. This subject shows us that ministers are bound to exhort,
sinners to make themselves new hearts, and to do nothing
which implies that they are not to do this.
This is the sinner's duty.  And if ministers are bound to
call on sinners to perform their duty and not to come short
of it, then they must exhort them to make themselves a new
heart, and not rest satisfied with any thing in which this is
not included. Thus, if sinners are exhorted to think of God,
it should be in order to love him. They may be exhorted to
such reflection,- but it should be that they may exercise such
love.
It will not be pretended that ministers are to give no exhortation to sinners, nor that they are to exhort them to wait in
sloth and inaction, and do nothing. They must then exhort
them either to seek a new heart, with their present heart of
enmity and unbelief, or to make themselves a new heart. But
shall they exhort them to go on in sin; to act fiom a wicked
heart in order to become holy?  Can this be done, and the
gospel be preached? -Does the gospel allow any man to do
any thing, as the enemy of God, for one moment-or, to do
that which necessarily implies that he is to continue God's
enemy while he is doing it? Does it exhort him to do any
thing in this character?  If not, how shall the minister of the
gospel do it? Rather, how shall he exhort them to do what
the gospel forbids-exhort them to do what they may do, and
perish when they have done it? Did Christ preach so? Did
his apostles? We have told you how they preached. The
very substance of their preaching consisted in exhorting and
urging sinners to immediate duty, to making the heart right
with God. And shall not the minister of Christ preach as he
did, and as his apostles did? Does he know how to preach
better than they?  Shall he, on the authority of his own




408              THE SINNER'S DUTY
speculations and vain philosophy about regeneration, dare to
preach otherwise?
Another thing ought here to be remembered. No sinner
ever did and no sinner ever will give God his heart, even
through the Spirit, while he believes either that it is not his
duty to do it, without the Spirit, or that he must wait for the
Spirit to influence him in the act. The work of the Spirit consists in bringing the sinner, as an intelligent moral being, to
perform his duty, and for the sinner to act under any other
view of the subject is to resist the Holy Spirit. If he is ever
regenerated through the Spirit, it will be only when he believes that he ought to give God his heart, and that through
the Spirit he may actually do it, and when attempting to do
it in the free, voluntary exercise of his own powers. And so
the minister of Christ should tell him. HIe must shut him up
to the act of duty, as the only hope even from the Spirit of
God. If he does not, he opposes the very work of this divine
agent, and unites with the sinner in resisting and grieving the
Holy Ghost.
3. We see the absurdity of the sinner's plea, that he cannot change his own heart.
If the doctrine of this discourse be true, he has no inability
which excuses him for a moment-no inability which God regards as an excuse at all, none but what renders him deserving
of the wrath of God, so long as his heart is unchanged. What
is the sinner's inability to change his heart? Is he required
to create any new powers or faculties? No. Is he required
to do any thing which he has not ample powers to perform?
No. Is he under any restraint from without; does any foreign
influence prevent him or destroy his ability? No. Is there
any want of susceptibility to motives, any constitutional incapacity to be moved to right action? No. What, then, is
his inability? I will tell you, my hearers. It is the perverseness of a wicked heart. I-Ie cherishes so strong a love for the
world and of himself, and so strong an opposition to God and
his duty, that he will persist in this opposition. Were the op



TO MAKE HIMSELF A NEW  HEART.             409
position of his heart to God less-were it so small in degree
that he might be actually persuaded by truth and motives to
renounce it-would he not be to blame for cherishing it 
And now when his opposition rises so high as to set every influence at utter defiance but the power of the Holy Ghost, is
he no longer to blame?  Has it come to this,-that if a man
commits murder once he is to blame; but if he commits murder
ten or twenty times, and thus becomes immutable in his purpose of death, he is no longer to blame for it? And is the
sinner to blame for hating God a little; but if he hates him so
much that he will hate immutably and eternally, is he innocent? Shall he complain that he has no power2 No power?
Look at his power to love the world, to love sin, and to resist
all the efforts which infinite love and mercy make in his behalf. No power? IHe has all the power which he would
have were he perfectly holy-all the power in kind which an
angel has, to love God. But his enmity rises so high against
the living God as to defy every thing short of Omnipotence to
subdue it. This is his so called inability. And is it an excuse? What more abominable object in the sight of infinite
purity than such a giant rebel as this!
4. We see why the influences of the Holy Spirit are necessary to change the hearts of sinners.
I have heard it said, that it is an act of God which justice requires him to perform-that as man lost all power
to perform his duty by the fall of Adam, the aids of the
Holy Spirit are given to supply this loss, and to restore to
man ample powers to obey God. But we have shown that
man has ample power, even the power of a perfect moral
agent; we have shown that it is right in itself, that he
should make himself a new heart without any divine influence; that he is under obligation as a moral agent to obey
the law of God perfectly; that if he is not, he is not a sinner-that if he is not a sinner, there is no grace in the gospel,
and that the aid of the Holy Spirit is not grace, but debt.
This aid, then, cannot be given to make man a moral agent.
Vol. I.-18




410        -    THE SINNER'S DUTY
IHe is such without it. He; is able to do:his whole duty, for
God requires nothing but a given use of powers possessed.
Nor are the influences of the Spirit given, because it would
not be right that God should withhold them, and lay his wrath
on sinners for not changing their own hearts without them.
But they are given, because God designs to save sinners, and'because sinners left to themselves will continue in sin, and
perish; they are given, because the sinner is willfully blind,
and deaf, and dead in sin; because no motives in the universe
will ever induce the sinner to alter his purpose of rebellionbecause he will persist in sin, will cherish the obstinacy of his
heart, will set at naught the voice of God, will trample underfoot a Saviour's blood, will go down to hell, if Almighty power
does not prevent him.
5. The duty of the sinner to make himself a new heart is
to be regarded by him as a practicable duty.: Many suppose otherwise. At least they suppose that every
attempt at its present performance is nugatory and vain; and
that they have only to wait till God interposes, and by his
grace constrains them to give him their heart. My hearers,
there is not a more fatal mistake than this; nor one more absolutely groundless. Fatal, because so long as you act under
it, nothing will be done to anypurpose in the work of conversion. Give God your heart, while you regard every attempt
to do it as hopeless as the creation of a world! -Never. Under
this persuasion, it is as certain that you perish, under the wrath
of God, as that there is a God. If the time never comes in
which you believe that you may give God your heart, you
will never try to give him your heart; and if you never try to
give him your heart you never will do it, even through his
grace, but will only resist his Spirit till yol die. Cherish this
persuasion, then, that this duty cannot and will not now be
done, even if you attempt it, and surely as there is a hell, you
are the victim of its woes.
But the persuasion is groundless. Look at the commands
of God-think of his calls, his entreaties, his expostulations,




TO MAKE:HIMSELF A NEW HEART.            411
his promises, his threatenings, his beseeching tenderness, his
overflowing compassion and grace! Is not all this designed
to make the impression, that what God calls upon you to do,
may be done? Do you say, it never will be done without his
grace?  True. But it may be done through his grace. Yes,
yes; oh, yes, fellow-sinner, through the grace of God it may be
done. It may be done now-now, as well as at any future
moment of your life. Now, now, now, fellow-sinner, you may
give your heart to God, and become an heir of his glory.
What, so soon? Yes, now, even Now, through grace it may
be done. But, you say, I am not even awakened. Be it so.
Then it is high time you were; and how long a time would it
take you to become awakened, if you knew you had but
another moment to live? It is time you were awakened. It
takes no time for a sinner falling into hell, as you know you
are, to be awakened. If you are not awakened, it is your own
fault-if you continue unawakened another moment, it will be
your own fault. But you say, "I have no evidence that the
Spirit of God is striving with me." But you know that you
are a sinner against God, and momently exposed to his wrath,
and is not this enough to awaken you?.Would it not, in fact,
awaken you, were you not determined not to be awakened?
And as to the Spirit of God, how do you know that he is not
now striving with you, in all the tenderness and grief of resisted love and grace-aye, striving with you for the last time?
How do you know that it is not so; and that the reason that
you are not awakened is, that you are resisting and grieving
the Holy Ghost for the last time? IDo you not now clearly
see and understand your duty?  Do you not feel the firm
grasp of obligation on your conscience-every consideration
of right, and reason, and duty, pressing you to obey the living
God? And how do you know that this is not the Spirit
of God striving to bring you to instant repentance, and that
you are not even now resisting and grieving him for the
last time? —resisting, and resisting for the last time, an influence that would result in your instant conversion, if you




412          THE SINNER'S DUTY, ETC.
were not resisting it? How do you know that you are not
thus breaking away from these arms of everlasting love
for the last time-struggling to escape from the embrace
of omnipotent love and mercy, that you may plunge into
hell? Aye, thus-thus grieving the Holy Ghost for the last
time!




xxx.
PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW.
LuxE ix. 62.
"And Jesus said unto him, No man having put his hand to the plow, and looking
back, is fit for the kingdom of God."
THERE are few persons to whom the solemn alternative of
the gospel is presented, who do not feel the importance of
deciding the simple yet momentous question, What will Ido f
Its overtures must either be accepted or rejected, and that
under the pressure of the most weighty obligations, and with
the prospect of the most tremendous consequences. Now it
is, we believe, impossible that these things should be clearly
brought before the mind, without producing a state of anxious
hesitation between opposite determinations, which leads the
mind to incline first to the one, then toward the other.
It was to a person in such a state of mind that our Lord addressed the declaration in the text. On hearing the call of
the Saviour, he said: " Lord, I will follow thee;" but, at the
same time, proposed first to go and bid them farewell that were
at home at his father's house. Thus, in the very act as it were
of forming the resolution, he betrayed its weakness. He discovered a purpose far below that strength of decision, and that
unqualified devotedness which the case demanded, and thus
virtually surrendered the enterprise in which he professed to
engage.
By a proverbial mode of speaking, our Lord then most
pointedly reproves this indecision of purpose in religion. To
yput the hand to the plow, is to enter ostensibly upon some
undertaking, to embark in some pursuit with an apparent purpose of securing its object; and to look back, implies that




414      PUTTING  THE HAND TO TIIE PLOW.
divided state of mind, and that irresoluteness of purpose which
are a virtual abandonment of the end proposed, and are, therefore, fatal to success. We are thus taught that a wavering
and undetermined state of mind in religion is as fatal as it is
in any other pursuit, that it can never form that character
which qualifies for the kingdom of God.
}My design is to considerFirst, Some instances of this indecision of purpose in religion; and
Second, Its utter insufficiency to form the Christian character.
I. Among those who, in the language of the text, put the
hand to the plow and look back, may be mentioned the following classes.
1. Those who would become religious were it not that they
wish first to secure some worldly good.
The reality, the excellence, and the necessity of religion,
such persons readily acknowledge.  Often they feel a painful
internal conflict, a self-dissatisfaction and vexation of mind
that they cannot obtain some new thought, or feeling, or motive, that they have not more sense, more resolution, more any
thing, which shall secure them  from such disgraceful indecision, and constrain them  to a course so obviously rational
and so vastly important. Every such person, at times, thinks
that he will begin to make religion his grand object. The
end is too glorious, the interests at stake too momentous to be
longer neglected. The feeling seems to be, "Lord, I will follow thee." - But just when the first decisive step toward executing the purpose by a full surrendering of the whole man to
God, just when the turning-point comes, new thoughts occur.
Religion is, indeed, a good thing; it is too important to be
finally abandoned. But, then, how can all the happy prospects which the world spreads before its votaries-how can
all these promising schemes of wealth, or honor, or pleasure
be abandoned, be sacrificed, by an immediate surrendry of
the whole heart to Christ? Let these be first' secured, and




PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW.              41'
then religion shall have an unreserved attention-an unhesitating purpose. Thus religion is not ultimately abandoned,
God's dominion and favor are not finally abjured, Jesus and
his salvation are not forever renounced; but all their claims
must be deferred till a portion on earth is first secured. Thus
the weakness of the resolution is betrayed; the object on which
the purpose seems to fix as one of unrivaled importance, and of
indispensable accomplishment, is abandoned. Every such person has put his hand to the plow, and looked back.2. The same thing is true of those who are prevented from
coming to a decided purpose in religion by certain embarrassments and difficulties.
Often under the clear exhibition of its divine excellence, its
high obligations and supreme importance, they resolve to
makeI it the grand concern, and to begin immediately, or at
least to resolve that nothing shall long detain thern from so
doing. Thus they are often brought to the very point of
making firm resolve in this highest, noblest enterprise of man.
But then there are many things to be considered. Is the present the best time; will not circumstances become more f:avorable by delay; will not more leisure, less care and bustle in
business, or fewer worldly engagements, be found to prevent
or hinder the effectualI accomplishment of the purpose hereafter? At present friends are not pious, and how difficult to
separate from them; perhaps the time may come, and oh that
it might, when they shall be willing to enter on a religious
course. What awkwardness and difficulties will be felt in
effecting the necessary changes in the family, and in other
departments of social intercourse! HIow can the society and
friendship of such and such persons be forfeited, as it must be,
by the proposed change in the manner of life? If friends and
acquaintances were different from what they are-if others
around were making religion the grand concern-how easy it
would be to act more decisively. [But as it is, what will
people say-how many remarks, how many questions, how
much ridicule and contempt, and alienation? How singular




416     PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW.
it will appear. Thus, if the purpose is not formally renounced,
there is a secret wish to renounce it. Again, however, the
conviction of the wisdom and necessity of the case returns
with greater force-for what are all these things compared
with the loss of the soul? And now, is it practicable?-shall
I become a Christian if I undertake? Perhaps if I form a determination it will be only to abandon it and to incur the
shame and obloquy of beginning to build and not being able
to finish. Thus, in the minds of such persons the embarrassments and difficulties seem to be peculiar and insurmountable. There are ten thousand insuperable ifs that rise like
mountains to prevent the salvation of their souls. Thus, the
strength of their purpose abates and its ardor expires. Soon
the wisdom, or the necessity, or even the possibility of conversion, is made a question, and the purpose is surrendered, if
not finally, only to be resumed with less hope and relinquished
with less regret and concern, till it is terminated by death and
damnation. Every such person puts his hand to the plow and
looks back.
3. The same thing is true of those who, in times of deep
affliction, sudden danger, or alarming sickness, have formed
resolutions to become religious, and who abandon them on a
change of circumstances. Such cases have fallen under the
observation of almost every one, if they have not been matters
of fact in his own experience.
Under affliction the sensibilities of the soul are softened,
the influence of the world to seduce and blind and harden
is diminished, the need of a more enduring substance is seen,
and the powers of the world to come are felt.  At such
a season, it is as easy as it is common to form resolutions
and purposes to renounce the world and sin, and to make
religion and the concerns of the soul the grand object. The
countenance, the conversation, the abated ardor of worldly
pursuits, the suspension of worldly pleasures, all seem to
say, "Lord, I will follow thee."  But scarcely, in many
cases, is the rod of chastisement withdrawn-scarcely has




PUTTING  THE HAND TO TIlE PLOW.              417
the wound time to heal, or its first anguish to abate-scarcely
does health again smile inl the family, business assume its
successful course, and the world invite to its accustomed
pleasures, before the first rising tide of prosperity rolls back
with it the same indifference to the soul, and buries it in the
same sottish devotion to the things of time and sense.
In seasons of danger, how many have resolved on amendmient, should deliverance be granted. Then no more is expected from the world; then no space for delay remains, the
world vanishes, and but a moment, perhaps, remains for preparation for eternity; or, if life should be preserved, then it is
seen how frail it is, how near death always is, and how presumptuous have been the confident expectations cherished in
the day of health and apparent security, and how wise, when
so liable to be met by death at every step, to be always ready.
Who in the hour of peril has not felt all this, and, under its
influence, resolved to devote his life if prolonged, to diligent
preparation for meeting his final Judge?  But oh, how frail
the purpose! In the mloment of danger there are resolutions,
vows, prayers, tears, solemn protestations, deep relentings,
promises, every thing to secure a life of future piety. But the
danger past, how soon is all forgotten'! IIow easy and common to tremble amid the terrors of the tempest, and yet when
it is over, to blaspheme the Creator of the storm!
Under the alarms of dangerous disease, when death is seen
in the mourning countenances of friends, in the desponding
efforts of physicians, and in every symptom of the diseasewhat tears of sorrow, what self-condemnation, what strong
resolutions, what fair promises, what solemn vows have been
witnessed. [But when health returns, what then, in most cases,
becomes of these hopeful plans of salvation?  The condition
of such persons changed, and how is every thing changed
with it; prayer into presumption, and terror into security!
A1ll this piety has subsided with their fever, all this devotion
vanished with their disease, and all these promises, and vows,
and resolutions have lasted only with their inability to break
18*                                          27




418      PUTTING  THE HAND TO THE PLOW.
them.. This man of prayer, this soul of sanctity, what is he?
A bolder rebel against God than ever-a faithless, may I not
say, a hopeless apostate. He also has put his hand to the
plow, and looked back.
4. The same charge lies against those who have been the
subjects of special religious awakening, and who afterward
return to stupidity in sin.
Instances of this kind, in places blessed with the revival of
religion, are commonly not rare. Few can stand by the displays of mercy made during such a period, without some
secret wish that they may be included in the number, or at
least without occasional fear and trembling that, while others
are taken, they shall be left. Conscience now pleads with irresistible power in behalf of religion and the soul, the world
sinks to something like its true insignificance, eternal realities
weigh on the spirit. Every thing, to the eye of external observation, looks fair and promising. The purpose to make religion the grand concern, and that at every sacrifice, and in
defiance of every obstacle, seems to have taken possession of
the soul. Mleans are used with apparent diligence. Christians
pray, conscience urges, the Spirit of God strives, and in anticipation we seem to see the humble, happy, devoted disciple
of the Lord Jesus. But, alas, the change! He has been, perhaps, relying on the efficacy of his impenitent, heartless doings,
and flattering himself that, though unsuccessful, he has done
all he can do; the failure disappoints and discourages, and the
purpose is abandoned.  Or, perhaps, he persuades himself,
and on the authority, as he thinks, of his own experience; that
religious awakening is not a difficult attainment, and that he
can discard his present anxiety, and recall it at a more convenient season. Or, perhaps, reluctant to encounter the shame
and mortification of making known his religious fears and
disquietude, he has in fact remained willfully ignorant of the
instruction and direction which would have issued in his conversion. Or, perhaps, wearied with his unsuccessful efforts,
and with a heart still longing for the world, and yet unable




PUTTING  THE HAND TO THE PLOW.               419
to resist the power of truth on the conscience, he listens to
false instruction that quiets his alarm, or even becomes the
victim of some strong delusion, and is left to believe a lie that
he may be damned. Or, perhaps, he changes his associatesone laughs, another frowns, another assures him that all this
anxiety is useless enthusiasm and gloom, far beneath a man of
sense, kindly regrets that he should have been thus deluded,
and persuasively invites and artfully charms his unwary steps
to scenes of amusement and pleasure, where his feet take hold
on hell. Every such person has put his hand to the plow, and
looked back.
Having thus attempted to trace some of the operations of
an undecided purpose in religion, I proceed, as I proposed, to
considerII. Its utter insufficiency to form the Christian character.
1. An undecided purpose in religion is sure, sooner or later,
to abandon its object.
Strength of resolution is requisite for every purpose of
human life. Show me a man destitute of it, and I will show
you one who never did well in any thing. A divided purpose
never secured wealth to the merchant, nor victory to the conqueror-least of all, can success be expected to crown such a
purpose in religion. This path is beset with difficulties, with
temptations, with dangers, with terrors, a(ld with death; and
he only can hope to enter upon it with success, who has that
determined, self-decided spirit which is prepared to act, to
suffer, or to die as duty may require. The path is so obstructed
that no other spirit can pass. With any other purpose the man
yields to whatever may assail him; and amid the innumerable
things that will occur to arrest his progress, as he tries to go
onward, with a heart easily seduced in its affections, and yet,
in fact, supremely devoted to the world, what chance is there
that he will not, like the floating leaf, yield to every current,
and be whirled on every eddy?  If one is to become a Christian only when difficulties, and temptations, and obstacles of
every kind shall be cleared from his path, when the world, in all




420     PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW.
its endlessly diversified forms, shall acquiesce and bid him God
speed, in kind accommodation to his wishes-what is to be
hoped for? Nothing at all. No. He must set up a firm
resolve, taking things just as they are. HIe must look well to
the emergency, he must count the cost before he lays down
the resolution; but when he has resolved, he must be immutable. He must become the master of his own mind, and thus
rise above the world, and through prosperity and adversity,
fame or persecution, life or death, go from conquering to conquer. Instead of being governed by events, he must govern
them, and like the providence of God take a steady direction,
and make the course of things bend to his purposes, and terminate in his glory. Do you say such a purpose is fi'om the
grace of God? Be it so, as it undoubtedly is. But come
whence it may, you must have it, and you must form it too,
or you never will have it. I Nothing else constitutes discipleship to the Lord Jesus, nothing short of it qlualifies for the
kingdom of God. Without it, whatever other resolutions you
may form-if you do not settle it as a question of life and
death, if you do not resolve on heaven as your object in God's
appointed way-you will never see it; the world will tempt,
and seduce, and ultimately draw you down to perdition.
2. An undecided, fluctuating purpose in religion greatly impairs the energies of the mind, and thus defeats its object.
This principle of the mind is seen in every thing. Whoever knew a man that was always forming and revoking his
resolutions, I do not say that ever accomplished any thing, but
who had the requisite mental energy to accomplish any thing?
The very feelings are expended, and the sensibilities impaired,
which are necessary to firmness of purpose and vigor of execution. These principles not only hold in the concerns of the
soul, but have here their most alarming application.  The
whole measure of sensibility which pertains to the soul, is here
required to give energy to the purpose. All its practical sensibilities are on the side of the world and of sin, heightened
by habit, and made as it were omnipotent by indulgence. The




PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW.              421
first feelings of the soul toward religion are always the most
powerful. Every exhibition of motives which is counteracted,
renders the same exhibition more and more hopeless as to all
effect. Familiarity only produces stupidity; resistance, obduracy. At the same time, all the opposite tendencies of the
soul are strengthened. Thus every broken resolution gives the
world new strength of dominion, invites and welcomes temptation, impairs all the susceptibilities of the mind toward
spiritual realities, and binds the soul in the iron chains of
exhausted energy,,deep discouragement, and determined sin.
Do you doubt it? Many a gray-headed sinner, who, in youth
or even in advanced age, formed again and again resolutions
to begin a holy life, scarcely thinks of such a purpose, but
abandons the concern in sullen inactivity, as if he had read
the counsels of heaven, and found his perdition sealed.
What, then, is to be hoped for from such a process? What
to be expected, when the judgment is put in requisition to produce excitement which only exhausts and wastes all the energies of the inner man, and thus reacts -only with augmented
obduracy in sin? What is to be expected, when conscience is
summoned to act, and roused to feel and resolve, only to blunt
and benumb its sensibilities as if seared with a hot iron?
Nothing but death. No-when the judgment decides with
a strong preference toward religion, then must be roused along
with it all the moral sensibilities of the soul. The intellect,
or the power to see, must carry with it the conscience and the
heart the power to feel. When the judgment is convinced,
then the conscience must be yielded to the power of obligation
as to the pressure of great mountains, and the heart applied to
objects of holy affection as if heaven with its glories beamed
on the sight.  No part of the energy must be lost till the
purpose is formed. And it must be formed not for an experiment, to see what results may follow; but it must be formed
for eternity, and thus insure its results by the:promises of
God. Without some such intenseness of mind, and decision
of purpose, there can be no discipleship to Jesus. Thousands,




422      PUTTING THE HAND TO THE:PLOW.
in a series of unsuccessful resolves, have wasted feeling and
energy enough to have secured their salvation had it been concentrated on a single purpose. They resolve and re-resolve,,but, never bidding the world farewell, never going so far away
from it that they cannot go back, every purpose fails, and the
end of it is, they go down to hell amid the firagments of broken.vows and broken resolutions, to bewail their folly in the horrors of despair.
3. That an undecided purpose in religion cannot form the
Christian character, is evident from the fact that it still leaves
the soul as completely under the dominion of sin as if it had no
existence.
-It is nothing in any case but a convinced judgment, and a
troubled conscience struggling with the heart. The former
summons to the service of God; the latter refuses submission,
and still maintains its devotion to the world, and its opposition
to God. And what fitness is there for the kingdom of God in
all this-what of the spirit of loyalty to the Eternal in a convinced judgment and an opposing heart —what qualification:for the service required of his subjects here, or for the joys to
be awarded to them hereafter?  Was it a mere struggle between an enlightened conscience and a rebel heart that led
prophets, and apostles, and martyrs to resist unto blood, to
take joyfully the spoiling of their goods, and to rejoice that
they were counted worthy to suffer for the name of Christ?
Is it a mere fluctuation of purpose, which results from a conviction of duty on the one hand, and opposition to it on the
other, which serves and enjoys God in the heavens? Will
such a purpose prompt the disembodied spirit to fly on errands
of mercy from heaven to earth, or to fulfill the holy services
of that temple, whose song is, "IHoly, holy, holy, Lord God
Almighty?"  Could such a spirit associate with beings whose
love is as a flame of fire'? Could it strike the harps of angels,
or shout the hosannahs of the redeemed? And what would
such a spirit of hesitation do in heaven? It would still hesitate, and still revolt, and oppose and hate, and sink and die




PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW.    423
under a sense of perpetual dissolution and anguish. To qualify, then, for the kingdom of God, as it exists on earth or in
heaven, there must be a full purpose of soul. Without it,
nothing is done-nothing can be done. There is nothing but
absolute, perfect fitness for heaven, or fitness, absolute, perfect
fitness for hell.
4. An undecided purpose in religion grieves the Holy Ghost
and fearfully exposes to judicial abandonment of God.
The very object for which the Holy Spirit strives with the
sinner, is to bring him to a full and decided purpose of soul in
the service of God. To torm, therefore, these half-way resolutions, and still to maintain a hesitating purpose, to refuse
and hold back the surrendry of the whole man to God, is a
direct resistance and counteraction of the work of the hIoly
Ghost. Aprl how long can this be safely done?  How long
can the Holy Ghost, whose principle of dispensation is not to
strive always, be safely resisted. How long can the sinner,
thus constrained by conscience, make resolutions, and through
the influence of an opposing heart revoke them, and yet expect the Spirit of grace to visit that heart with his influence? 
Who are the sinners whom he abandons but those on whom
the experiment of his grace has proved thus ineffectual? Who,
if not those whom his influence has brought again and again,
as it were, to the very point of submission, and who have
there, again and again, with the spirit of unconquerable rebellion, withstood the efforts of his grace? If there be any
sinner whom God abandons to hardness of heart-if there be
any who is left to treasure up wrath against the day of wrath
in hopeless impenitence, and that there is the Bible clearly
asserts-then of that sinner, who forms and revokes resolutions,
who resolves to make religion his grand concern to-day, abandons the purpose to-morrow, who has been often brought to
feel that he must begin, and will begin, and yet has really
never begun the work of turning to God-I say, if there be
any sinner whom God abandons to inevitable perdition, of this
sinner it may be said, "Thou art the man."




424     PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW.
And now, my dear hearers, in conclusion, let me send the
question to all of you who are yet out of the kingdom of
Christ, have you not often put your hand to the plow and
looked back? HIave you not, in some one or more of the
ways which have now been pointed out, formed and revoked
purposes of repentance and salvation? Have you not, by the
power of truth, been brought to a stand, and, as it were, forced
to resolve to take care of your never-dying soul —and has not
the world still seduced and drawn you back into former forgetfulness and neglect? And tell me, what has all this availed; are you not yet in the gall of bitterness? Does not your
own experience tell you that every new resolution is weaker
than the former, and does not reason, does not the Bible tell
you that continuing in this course there is for you absolutely no
hope? Corne, then, fellow-sinners, to a full decided purpose. The
Saviour calls, " Come and follow me;. take up your cross and
come after me." Deny thyself, give up the world as an object
of supreme affection, and with a purpose that will lift you out
of this materialism around you, and place you high above every
temptation and every obstacle the world can interpose, with
a purpose that shall hold out through time and through eternity, now resolve to be the Lord's.
Do you say it will do no good to resolve; that it is better
not to resolve than to break resolutions, and therefore you will
make no resolution? Then you are undone. Never to resolve is death.  [Never resolve, and all the mercy of the
Saviour and love of God are in vain, and as sure as there
is a hell you are the victim of tribulation and wrath and
anguish without end. Do you, then, say you will resolve?
When? Do you say to-day-even now? But Ahow will you
resolve? Will you resolve to abandon some vice, resolve to
become more thoughtful, resolve to enter the service of
Christ with your heart glued to the world? Better not resolve
at all. Will you resolve to consider, and read, and pray, and
thus to wait and see if God will not convert you? Still you
have not come to the point. All this you may do and still




PUTTING THE HAND TO THE PLOW.              425
determine to withhold your heart, and thus grieve the I-Ioly
Ghost in your very prayers. Your resolution, if this be all,
will come to naught in this world but confirmation in sin, and
perdition in hell in the next. Do you now ask what you shall
do? Resolve on an interest in Christ and devotion to his
service at every sacrifice; come to the point of giving up the
world once for all; come to the resolution that, whether saved
or damned, the world shall be no longer the object of your
affection. Turn your back upon it and bid it farewell forever.
Your soul and all its eternal interests are at stake, and something must be done, and done soon. Now is the time, the
best time, perhaps the only time, to provide for those interests.
Now, then, begin; begin with a purpose which neither earth
nor hell can shake or cause you to abandon. Resolve, and resolve for eternity, to be the Lord's. See to it that your decision is final and unchangeable. If the first attempt fail repeat
it. Rtepeat it now-repeat it in your closet. Repeat it again
and again. Go where you shall be alone with God, and there
repeat it. Here is the pivot on which your eternal destiny
turns. If you make no resolution you are damned; if you
form none but undecided, wavering purposes, you are damned.
Form, then, the resolution that shall endure throughout your
immortality-that this shall be ever the great concern-that,
saved or lost, you will ever be the Lord's.




XXXI.
APOSTASY.
JOHN Vi. 67, 68.
"Then said Jesus unto the twelve, Will ye also go away? Then Simon Peter
answered him, Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words of eternal life."
NONE of us wonder that vast multitudes attended the ministry of the Lord Jesus. Such was the sanctity of his character, so heavenly and powerful was his preaching, and so amazing were his miracles, that the natural curiosity of the human
mind, would lead great numbers to follow him. But we have
wondered-as often as our thoughts have recurred to the fact
-that while thousands and ten thousands followed him from
place to place, heard him preach, and witnessed the displays
of his omnipotence, few, very few became his real disciples.
The multitude had just witnessed the miracle of our Lord in
feeding the five thousand.  With high expectations fiom a
leader who could do such things for his followers, they crossed
the sea to Capernanm, and came after him to make him their
king. Here, he took occasion to deal plainly with this multitude, charging upon them their selfish purposes, correcting
their mistaken expectation of finding in him a temporal prince,
unfolding the great purpose for which he came into the world
as an atoning sacrifice, and declaring unto them that they believed not. At this they took offense, and vented their emotions in murmurings and complaints against the doctrines
which he taught. From that time, many even of his professed
disciples went back, and walked no more with him. It was
with this melancholy instance of apostasy, that " Jesus said




APOSTASY.                     427
unto the twelve, Will ye also go away? Then Simon Peter
answered him, Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hast the words
of eternal life."
I propose to considerFirst, Our Lord's question; and
Second, The disciple's answer.
1. This question of our Lord, was the language of affection.
It was designed and exactly adapted to lead those whom he
addressed to reflect on the happiness promised to his faithful
disciples, and the misery of those who had just forsaken him.
The former were his friends, his brethren, those whom he had
loved with an everlasting love, and for whom he had come to
die on the cross. Our unbelief, our wayward affections and
fond attachments to our own selfish indulgence, often lead us
to distrust the kindness of this our best friend, and give even
to the injunctions and warnings of his kindness, which the
benevolence of a God dictated, the aspect of severity and unnecessary rigor. Like froward children, we count nothing
kind in a benignant parent which crosses our inclinations or
defeats our wishes. HIow false is such an estimate, how ungrateful such a thought!  When or in what did the Lord
Jesus show any other emotion, toward his disciples, than that
of love?  Whether he intercedes with the Father of all mercies in their behalf, or faithfully utters divine denunciations
against apostasy by unfolding its woes-whether he enjoins
the strict, and pure, and holy precepts of his gospel on the
authority of him that sent him, or invites and entreats by the
blessings of his grace-whether he counsels or admonishes,
warns or reproves, the same affection glows in his heart. See
it in the tears he shed at the tomb of Lazarus. tHear it as it
blends the accents of compassion with the severest denunciations of justice. " O Jerusalem, Jerusalem, thou that killest
the prophets, and stonest them which are sent unto thee, how
often would I have gathered thy children together, even as a
hen gathereth her chickens under her wings, and ye would not!
Behold, your house is left unto you desolate." An exclama



428                   APOSTASY.
tionl uttered with more tenderness than human bosom ever felt:
Behold it in that look of energy and love which: he cast on
Peter, and which melted him  into repentance.  Behold it
taking away the scruples of the unbelieving Thomas, by permitting him to thrust his hands into his wounded side. Hear
it in the fervor of that prayer, even for his murderers, poured
out in the agonies of death. Nor can we doubt, though he is
invisible to us, that still, we have a high Priest who is touched
with a feeling of our infirmities, and whether he invites or threatens, intercedes or commands, blesses or rebukes, that he does
it with a heart as warm, as gracious, as endearing as when he
allowed the beloved disciple to lean on his bosom. I-Ie loved
us enough to lay aside his glories in the heavens, and die for
us on the cross. When we were yet enemies, he reconciled
us to God-he sought our restoration with a love stronger than
death —he could not bear to leave us in hopeless alienation
from God; and when he has restored us, brought us back, and
made us partakers of the full purchase of his atoning sacrifice,
how can he consent that we should forsake him, and go away
into eternal exile from God, from mercy, and from hope? It
is with such emotions he says to us, as to the twelve, "Will ye
also go away?"
2. The question of our Lord implies a solemn warning.
He had just been forsaken by thousands of professed followers; and with such a fact before the twelve, the question from
their Lord, whether they would also forsake him, could not
fail to come to their minds as a solemn admonition against
similar apostasy.
The propriety or fitness of such admonitions and warnings
which are so frequently addressed to the professed disciples of
Christ, rests on two grounds: the possibility, so far as they
know, that they are not real disciples; and the possibility that,
if real disciples, they may apostatize. The former consideration our Lord powerfully presented to the minds of the
twelve. Immediately on hearing the answer of the confident
Peter, as in the text, and with the addition, "' We believe, and




APOSTASY.                     429
are sure, that thou art that Christ, the Son of the living God,"l
Jesus answered them, " Have not I chosen you twelve, and one
of you is a devil?"  How must the declaration have thrilled
in every bosom, and with the deepest solicitude for his own
personal safety, have constrained each to make the inquiry,
"Lord, is it I?"
Nor is there any reason to doubt that, in any similar number of professed Christians in our age, there is at least one
hypocrite. No human eye may be able to distinguish himhis real character may be, and probably for the most part actually is, unknown to himself. Still he is a hypocrite, and,
sooner or later, his open apostasy will probably proclaim the
fact to his own conviction, and that of the world. At least
the judgment-day will reveal it. The Scriptures constantly
exhibit this truth.  The church is represented as including
both good and bad men, and with such a resemblance that no
human discrimination can separate them. The institution of
discipline in the church, shows that there will be a necessity,
in certain cases, for an open separation between the true and
the false followers of Jesus; and not only during the ministry
of Christ, but in the churches planted by apostolic labors, and
in those of every successive age, there have been constant defections calling for the application of gospel discipline-defections enough to settle the point, that visible members of the
church may go to hell as well as other men. There is also
often a measure of false confidence connected with a profession of religion, which the most solemn admonitions and warning cannot disturb. A delusive hope produces a stillness in
the conscience, removes misgiving fears, creates a reluctance
to self-examination, and a deliberate purpose not to have their
good opinion of themselves shaken. It is in this way that;
with confident expectation, a'KAany will say, Lord, Lord,, open
unto us;" to whom he will answer, "Depart fiomn me, ye workers of iniquity, i never knew you."  It is, then, on the ground
of this mistake, into which any one may fall, that the propriety of warnings against apostasy are addressed to all the




430                  APOSTASY.
professed followers of Christ; that the mistake, if it exist,
may be discovered, before it is too late; that we may fear,
before we are past all hope; that we may see-if we have
built on the sand —the weakness of our foundation, before the
storm and the ruins shall declare it. Oh, the surprise and the
horrors of such a mistake, first discovered at the foot of the
judgment-seat! "Strive to enter in at the strait gate; for
many, I say unto you, will seek to enter in, and shall not be
able."  And when the Lord Jesus puts the question, through
his written record to us, "Will ye also go away?" let us remember that all our past confidence may be but the hope of
the hypocrite, and that our open apostasy here, may yet be a
prelude to our eternal condemnation hereafter.
But it is not merely on the ground that professed Christians
may mistake their real character and apostatize, that we are
cautioned against apostasy. Real Christians may apostatize.
As moral agents they have the same power to sin which they
had before they were Christians. They have power to sin and
to continue to sin, till their breath stops and perdition overtakes them. What they will do, or what they will not do, is
a question not to be taken into the account at all. The only
question is, can they apostatize?-and the answer is, they can;
they can go away from Christ and walk no more with him.
The consequence is, they are in danger of apostasy; and what
better reason can be given for warning them  against it?
What other reason was ever thought of by a parent or a
friend in warning others against danger, but the possibility of
its proving fatal?  Nor is this inconsistent with the certainty
of the saints' perseverance. For it may be certain that a man
will not do many things which, nevertheless, he has power to
do. It may be certain that you will sit still when you have
power to walk. Even the greatest danger is consistent withl
the certainty of escaping it. Were not Paul and his company
in danger in the storm and the shipwreck, and yet had not the
prediction of God proved the certainty that they would not be
lost?  And so in any case of danger from which there has




APOSTASY.                     431
been an escape. Did not God know that it would be escaped?
Does not this fact prove that the escape was certain?  But
does it prove that there was no danger?  HIave those who
have escaped from the winds and the waves and the tempest
been in no danger because they have escaped, and because the
Omniscient knew they would escape? No more does the certainty that saints will not be lost, prove that they are in no
danger of being lost; and that, therefore, the warnings of God
against apostasy are impertinent and useless. Christ said unto
the twelve, " Will ye also go away?" because they were in
danger of apostatizing, and because, without being warned
against it, they doubtless would have apostatized. And he
puts the same interrogatory to us for the same reason. True
it is, the fact that the Christian can apostatize is no reason
for the conclusion that he will apostatize; neither does the
fact that he will not apostatize, authorize the belief that he
cannot, and that he is in no danger of apostasy. IHe is; and
on this account we should open all the sensibilities of the soul
to the warnings of God against it.' I-e that endureth to the
end shall be saved."  "But if any man draw back, my soul
shall have no pleasure in him," should tell on the Christian's
spirit in watchfulness, and prayer, and labor and diligence,
till he enters heaven.
3. The question of our Lord is the language of anxious concern in view of abundant reasons for it.
Many professed disciples had already forsaken him; one of
the twelve was a devil, and would, as he knew, afterward
betray him; all of them whom he addressed were the subjects
of much weakness and prejudice; they were to be exposed to
many temptations, enemies, and dangers, and they were ignorant, to a great extent, of the real nature of salvation through his
atoning sacrifice. HIe might justly regard their situation as
furnishing cause for deep anxiety and concern in their behalf.
It was to make this impression on their minds that their Lord
said unto them, " Will ye also go away?"
Similar reasons exist for anxious concern respecting the pro



432                    A P 0 S T A SY.
fessed followers of Christ at the present day, and it may be
useful to consider some of the sources of their danger.
One principal source of danger and reason for anxious concern, is the deep depravity of the human heart. Its endless
operations and its powerful influence we can attempt to describe only in a few particulars.  I-ow easily does this depravity lead men to deny or disregard the great practical
truths of the gospel! IHow revolting to the natural heart is
that system  of truth which humbles man as a guilty, condemned sinner-which calls him to self-renunciation, to selfdenial, to communion with God, to fix his heart on the glories
of heaven! I-ow many have made shipwreck of this faith!
And yet this truth is the light by which God is seen, by
which Christ is seen, by which man'y obligations, duties, conditions, and dangers are seen; and he who is not willing to
stand in the midst of it and let in its fall blaze upon his conscience and his heart will stumble on in darkness to eternal
ruin.
HIow easy is it, through the same influelce, to lose all just
impression of the broad distinction between Christians and the
world! There is a broad distinction between the one class and
the other, like the difference in the eternal destiny which
awaits them. But how easy to form a low and vacillating
judgment of this distinction, and to lose sight of the fundamental difference between spiritual life and spiritual death,
till a heedless conformity to the world begins and progresses,
till the professed follower of Christ partakes, in character and
hopes, with a world lying in wickedness!
Itow easy also to disregard the comparative worth of temporal and eternal things! Convinced as we are of the low and
fading nature of earthly objects, compared with the realities
to which the stupendous mercy of God invites us, how easily
do we lose all practical sense of it, and with it our solicitude
to escape the contagion around us! Instead of pursuing with
eager step the prize of onr high calling, and rising above the
temporary scene around us by the discovery and attraction of




APOSTASY.                     433
heavenly things, how easily we give our affections to the
world and sink in the love and pursuit of its vanities! Thus,
multitudes are drawn away from Christ.
How easily, too, do we become insensible to the dangers of
small departures from duty, and go over the line of safetydescend the downward way till we come to the place of trembling and dismay! How easily do we lose a just estimate of
the necessity of continual effort in the divine life, and this when
the exertion of the candidate in the race, the wrestler in the
struggle, and the warrior in the combat, is our only safety in
the contest in which we are engaged!
How easily we fail to keep death and eternity in view, and
that when the love of this world is never overcome but by
bringing near the pure and unfading glories of another!
How common to become more solicitous to preserve appearances before men than the reality before God; to become
solicitous to palliate and justify questionable courses of conduct; to become irritable under reproof; to find more time
for amusements, dress, company, indulgence, than for active
co-operation in plans that aim at the promotion of the glory
of God!
How easy to neglect the means of grace, and that when we
know that the grace of God is the Christian's only strength,
and that if the enemy of our souls can keep us from the appointed means of obtaining that grace, he will strip us of our
armor and make us an easy prey!
If we thus reflect on the power of indwelling corruption to
beguile, to ensnare, and to stupefy the soul-if we remember
what weak, fallen beings we are, how quickly we are occupied
by sensible objects, how feeble our principles of resistance,
how irresolute of purpose, how continually losing sight of our
duties, our obligations, our privileges, our dangers, and the
great end of our being —what reason is there for deep solicitude lest we incur the guilt and the dooml of apostasy from the
Saviour!
Another principal source of danger is the power of the
Vol. I.-19                               28




434                   APOSTASY.
temptations without us. The world comprises these.  *-fhe
people of the world are enemies to religion. How pernicious
their maxims, their example, their influence! How seductive
their smile, how intimidating their frowns! IHow powerful
the fear of censure and the love of applause! How sure the
influence of familiarity and friendship of worldly men, to chill
and freeze the Christian's heart!
Every station, every condition, has innumerable temptations.
Wealth flatters our pride; feeds the passions; draws off our dependence from God; furnishes substitutes for the consolations
of religion; multiplies diversions; excuses obstacles. Poverty,
too, has its perils; it tempts to envy, to repining-to many
overt crimes. The world has the advantage of constant contact; we cannot avoid its influence; it presents itself to the
eye, to the ear, to every sensibility; it is within us and about
us, and on our right hand and on our left. It does not ask us
to deny ourselves, but to indulge. It has every diversity of
means adapted to every variety of taste and disposition. If
we are not grovelling enough to be tempted by money, it has
its honors to give. If we despise sensual gratification we may
pursue knowledge that puffeth up. If one temptation be resisted another or another may prevail. In how many forms
can it assail us-how many aspects assume to deceive, ensnare, and ruin us! H-low many like Demas; how many like
Felix; how many like Herod; how many like the young ruler;
how many like Hymenauus and Philetus; how many like those
who received seed among thorns, have been seduced, and
ruined eternally by the varied forms of temptation which the
world presents! What inward peace it has destroyed; how
it has benumbed the spirituality of the soul, obstructed conmmunion with God, and planted the dying pillow with thorns!
Oh, what spoils of truth, of conscience, and of duty, can the
world display-what trophies of ruined immortals can the
world boast! The current flows strong and deep on every
side of us, and who shall not be concerned for his safety!
Who can reflect on the multitudes that have been lost, con



APOSTASY.                     435
sider the progress of their decline and the gloom and terrors
of their end; who can survey the wrecks that everywhere
float around us-look at the rocks and shoals and tempests
that infest the path to the haven of our hopes, and not see
cause for alarm and even for consternation? Shall -we wonder that the compassionate Jesus, with deep solicitude and
concern, says to all his professed followers, " Will ye also go
away?"
I proceed to consider briefly —
II. The disciples' answer to this question: "And Simon
Peter answered him, Lord, to whom shall we go? thou hlast
the words of eternal life." The question bespeaks a just sense
of his wants as a sinner, and of his dependence on Christ as a
Saviour.
As sinners we need the forgiveness of God, and can obtain
the blessings only through Christ. We have broken the laws
of God and are exposed to its awful curse. The law knows no
mercy for the transgressor.  It has nothing to give but its
fearful curse. "Cursed is every one that continueth not in all
things which are written in the book of the law to do them."
The whole world is guilty before God.  There is rebellion
against heaven's law and heaven's Sovereign, and the soul that
sinneth it shall die. The eternal God hath said it. There is
but one way of escape. "There is none other name under
heaven given among men whereby we must be saved."
Neither men nor angels can save. Creation can furnish no
deliverer. If we set aside as naught the atoning blood of
Jesus, hell must be our portion. Out of this hiding-place, all
that is just and holy and immutable, stands in threatening
array against every son and daughter of our species. The
living God looks upon us only in the aspect of a stern, insulted, unappeased sovereign, and throughout the universe
the attributes of God will bear in terror on the soul. To
whom, then, shall we go?  Who-if we forsake the only
Saviour-who shall deliver uls from death and hell?
As sinners we need sanctification, guidance, support,- and




436                  APOST A SY.
consolation, which none but Christ can give. Think, for a
moment, of the corruption of the human heart, and think
what that heaven is for which we must be prepared. How
must the soul be purified and raised to be meet for that world
of glory? The perfect image of God must be given it. "Holy,
holy, holy, Lord God Almighty," is the anthem of each inhabitant of that place. But how can we share in such delights with all our affections fixed on the vanities of earth, and
our whole character formed by their influence! As surely as
these bodies must be changed to avoid pain amid the fires of
the pit, so surely must these souls be transformed, before they
could find aught but disgust and weariness amid the halleluiahs of heaven. But who shall effect the mighty transformation? Who, if we forsake the Lord Jesus, and thus forfeit the grace and power of the Holy Ghost-who, then,
shall give to the soul its purity and its capacity for the raptures of that world of holiness and glory? In our exile from
him, and from the blessings purchased by his death-and
which can flow to us only through the channels of a Saviour's love —to whom shall we go?  Oh, how forlorn-how
wretched!
Who shall guide, and support, and console us in this pilgrimage of tears?  We live in a world accursed, and the
clouds rest dark and deep on the face of it. Oh, how must
the mind sink under its calamities without support! IHow can
we meet poverty, the loss of health and friends, and the countless ills of life, with no Saviour to sympathize with us under our
infirmities, no God to befriend us, no heaven to hope for! To
whom shall we go? Have we known what it is to have the
friendship of God in our trials-what it is with quietness and
assurance to commit all our interests to his keeping —what it
is to understand that the Lord God omnipotent reigneth, to
enter into his plarts, to incorporate our interests with his pleasure, and to say, as the source of firm support and of richest
consolation, "Thy will be done?" And, oh, if we forsake the
strength of that arm, and the light of that countenance, and




APOSTASY.                     437
shut ourselves out from such fellowship with God our Saviour,
to whom shall we go?
And when we come to lie on the bed of sickness, and know
it to be a sickness unto death-when we witness the despair
of friends, who can only turn pale at the sight of our expiring
agonies —when the resistless summons to meet God in judgment shall come-what, then, shall charm away from us the
terrors of anticipated vengeance?  Did you ever see the dying
man who could prop his hope and sustain his tranquillity on
a death-bed, by the retrospect of his own virtues? Did you
at that hour ever see an undaunted eye fixed on God as a lawgiver about to render to the soul according to its deserts?
Oh, no; this is not the support of death-beds! This is not
the triumph of the departing spirit! It is the hope of forgiveness through the great atonement of the Son of God, it is
an entire reliance on the righteousness of Jesus, and this only
which gives peace, and elevation, and joy to the soul in the
severest agonies. It is this which can fix a steady eye on the
great white throne, and the God who sits thereon it is this,
and only this, which lights up the languor of the dying eye
with celestial brilliancy, and wakes the shout of salvation on
the brink of eternity. And, oh, if we go away from Christif we refuse a dependence on him who alone can present this
immortal spirit holy, unblamable, and unreprovable in the
sight of God-on whom shall we depend, to whom shall we
goo
We need eternal life. Christ has the words of eternal life;
not only as his word is the means of that spiritual life which
prepares the soul for future blessedness —not only as he only
has brought life and immortality to light-but as this eternal
life is in him. God hath given us eternal life, and this life is
in his Son. Nor can we be at a loss what this life is. It is
that perfection of spiritual life which we attain in the heavens
-it is the blessedness of that world's employments, of the worship of God, of fellowship with him, of activity as co-workers
with him, of union and intercourse with the happy throng be



438                   APOSTASY.
fore his throne-it is the blessedness of being with Christ,
whose presence brightens and cheers the mansions of the redeemed, and gives to heaven its highest extasies, and wakes
its most rapturous songs-it is eternal life. Its elements in
the soul, its affections, principles, capacities, partake of its own
immortality. Its objects, the sources that feed, and nourish,
and animate its vigor, and impart its joys, are eternal, for
these are God and Jesus, and all the fountains of joy which
spring firom the throne of God and the Lamb. And to enter
the world of spirits, and not be heirs of this life-where are
we? What the character, what the condition of an immortal
in that spiritual state, whom nothing in God, nothing in
Christ, nothing in heaven can bless! Yea, what the character, and what the state of that immortal, who can find nothing
in God but cause of terror and of hate, nothing in the song
to the Lamb but disgust and weariness, nothing in the society
of angels and glorified spirits but cause for enmity and loathing!  I-low forlorn, and solitary, and wretched an outcast is
such an immortal!  Whither shall he go?  Earth and its
works are burnt up. In heaven, with all its fullness of joy
and rivers of pleasure, there is not a drop for him. In hell,
there is only lamentation, and woe, and chains, and darkness,
and fire, and tribulation, and wrath, and anguish forever. Depart from Christ?  "'Tis death-'tis more-'tis endless ruin,
deep despair."
I-ave not some of you, who have professed to be followers of Christ, forsaken the Saviour?  Be not reluctant
to hear the question, nor to apply it.  Carry the search
through all the chambers of the heart, look over the deportment of your life, and say honestly, as in the presence of
God, are there not some sad and decisive marks of apostasy
from your Saviour upon you? Have not the truths of God,
which are the food of the divine life in the soul, lost their influence by unbelief, by indifference, by denial? HIas not the
broad distinction of character between Christians and men of
the world faded, and dwindled, and become almost nothing?




APOSTASY.                     439
Has not the comparative value of temporal and eternal things
-become faint and unreal? Is not death placed at a distance?
-Are not the means of grace neglected? Has not temptation
prevailed?  Is not an habitual dependence on your Saviour
lost?  Are these things so, and yet have you not forsaken
Christ? These things so, and you not an apostate? Bring,
then, the inquiry home, and answer it? If the Saviour felt
such tender concern for the twelve-it; with such tender solicitude, he warned them against apostasy, the same anxiety and
the same admonitions may be justified in your case. If of
the twelve one was a traitor, it would be no cause for surprise
if some one of you should be already an open apostate, or a
real apostate at least. Let the question, then, go round, "-lord,
is it If"  Think of the tremendous nature of this concern.
It is nothing less than the everlasting salvation of your soul;
and dare you trust your state without trying it? Think of the
deceitfulness of your heart. How often has it deceived you!
And, oh, why may it not deceive you to your eternal undoing!
Think how many live and die in the delusion and security of
false hopes. Why may not you thus dream away your probation, till the last sentence of the Judge shall wake you from
the dream in the horrors of condemnation!  Put yourself,
then, to faithful self-examination.  Be willing to know the
worst of your case. Ask, whether the first symptoms of apostasy do not already appear. Ask your Bibles and your closets
— search faithfully your hearts in the light of God's unerring
truth! See if the plague is not begun, and if the very vitals
of your religion are not infected! "And, remember, if your
hearts condemn you, God is greater than your heart, and
knoweth all things." But, beloved, we hope better things of
you. For how can it be-how can it be, that ye who so lately
tasted the wormwood and the gall —who so lately trembled
before the terrors of God-should forget the hole of the pit
whence ye are digged?  How can it be that ye who so lately
tasted a Saviour's love —and with your feet on the rock of
ages, had the song of salvation put in your mouth-should




440                 APOSTASY.
have forgotten your deliverer from hell?  And, my dear
friends, will you —can you ever forget him? Will you-can
you go away from Christ? Oh, spare the Saviour the wounds
you would give hinmt! Has he forsaken you-mwill he forsake
you, if you forsake not him?




XXXII.
THE HARVEST PAST.
JEREIMIAu viii. 20.' The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved."
THIS is the language of the Jews under the impending judgments of God. Abundant means of securing the divine protection and favor had been offered them. Faithful prophets
had warned them of their danger, and urged them to make
God their refuge. Instead of trusting in the Almighty-instead of " breaking off their sins by righteousness," they obstinately rejected the appointed means of security, and persisted in disobedience and rebellion till the season of deliverance was past, and the threatened destruction was ready to
burst upon their heads. With this prospect of speedy and
inevitable ruin before them, they are convinced of their past
folly and madness in having wasted the season when the divine
favor might have been secured, and lament, in the anguish of
despair, that " the harvest is past, the summer is ended, and
we are not saved."
There is scarcely a more painful reflection to the mind of
man, than that the season of avoiding great calamities, and of
securing great blessings, has been neglected, and is irrecoverably gone. The distress will be heightened in proportion to
the magnitude of the evil which might have been avoided,
and of the blessings which might have been secured. Accommodating the language of the text to the interests of the
soul, and to the season in which deliverance from endless woe,
and its future glory and blessedness may be secured, how ex19.




442              THE HARVEST PAST.
cruciating to be forced by the reality to say,'" The harvest is
past, the summer is ended, and we are not saved." A season in
which salvation might have been obtained has been grantedmeans wisely adapted to the end have been abundantly possessed, but these only opportunities have passed unimproved;
means are no longer granted, or if granted, are useless-the
last moment of mercy is come, is gone, and deliverance from
hell is hopeless for eternity. It is in relation to this subject
that I propose to apply the mournful reflection in the text.
I propose to considerFirst, Some of those periods at which: the day of grace ends,
and leaves no hope of salvation to the sinner.
I. Viewing man as an accountable being, it is strictly true
that the whole of life is the season of probation and of mercy.
It is true that pardon and salvation are offered to his acceptance till death, and that as a moral agent he may accept,
and that, if he will accept, he shall be saved. But viewing
man as dependent on the grace of God, as a being who, by
perverseness of heart, has rendered his salvation hopeless, except through the power of that grace which transforms the
heart and brings to repentance, there are several periods during his continuance on earth which truly limit his day of
merciful visitation-periods-at which his future repentance
and salvation become hopeless, and when, with exact truth it
may be said, "The harvest is past, and the summer is ended."
1. The season of youth passed in impenitence, is to multitudes such a season.
Youth is emphatically the season when the character of man
is formed for eternity-the season in which those who do not
embrace religion are almost sure never to embrace it. IReligion to the depraved heart of man is never an easy acquisition. But the difficulties which attend it increase with age.
In youth we are exempt from a thousand obstacles that beset
the path in future life. Schemes of business, the cares of life,
the countless perplexities and pursuits of manhood which occupy and engross, and fatally hinder thousands, are now un



THE HARVEST PAST.                    443
known.  The thoughts are not, by habit, confined to one
channel; not fastened to worldly objects, so that they cannot
be diverted to religion. The sensibilities of the soul are more
easily touched, conscience is more susceptible and faithful, the
affections are nmore easily moved, the soul is capable of receiving more permanent impressions-the whole inner man is
peculiarly accessible to the influence of eternal things. Every
one who, in early life, has been blessed with the faithful instructions of a Christian parent can testify to all this by experience. With what interest and emotion did he then listen
to the great truths of his salvation, which he can now hear
with an almost absolute insensibility. The testimony furnished
by the providence of God conducts to the same conclusion.
Inquire after the age of those who become hopefully pious.
Who are they?  Young people almost without exception.
Look over the list of those who have been the subjects of the
revival in this place or in other places. Comparatively few
can be found above thirty, still fewer above forty; and above
fifty, it is believed, not one in a hundred.  You may make
your estimate on this subject as you will, and you will come
to substantially the same result. The conversion of an aged
sinner is an event that justly strikes the mind with astonishment. The providence of God is a complete comment on the
awful interrogatory of his word, "Can the Ethiopian change
his skin, or the leopard his spots?"  Thus, whether you consult the providence of God, or reflect on the nature of the
subject, youth is the season peculiarly favorable to the commencement of a religious course. All that there is in the
character and circumstances of man to awaken hope is to be
found in this period of life. All that follows is cause for fear
and anxiety, and in the case of multitudes, as God sees it, for
utter despair. They waste the season so favorable for making
provision for eternity. Its precious hloaurs are spent in sloth,
in accumulating difficulties and obstacles, in resisting and defeating the efficacy of those means which divine mercy furnishes. God abandons themn-the winter of age, with all its




4:4:4            THE HARVEST PAST.
frost, and cold, and death, comes on —their "harvest is past,
their summer is ended, and they are not saved."
2. The same precious season is often terminated by some
single acts of wickedness, or by yielding in some single instance to temptation.
That there are those who have given up themselves, and
who are given up of God, to perpetual sin and final impenitence, cannot be doubted by a careful observer of man, nor by
the believer in the declarations of holy writ. To this dark
and fearful course there was some first step.  Behold an
abandoned, hardened murderer; you are shocked at his daring
profligacy, his avowed defiance of God and man, and relinquish the monster of criminality as beyond the reach of mercy.
Could we unvail his history, we should see that some one act,
by its connection with consecutive acts, became the turningpoint of future character, the first step of that career which
terminates on the scaffold, his day of mercy. Take the confirmed drunkard; his hopeless, downward way began in some
place of gay festivity-some hour of thoughtless mirth. Take
the man who scoffs at the Saviour and his atoning blood, and
is given up to "strong delusion, to believe a lie that he may
be damned;" his way to death began, perhaps, in some single
purpose to excite a laugh in impious companions, at that religion which he thus fatally abjured. Another, whose life is
marked by no open immorality, has indulged a spirit of hostility toward some of the humbling doctrines of the gospel
which he heard firom some faithful preacher-hlie resolves to
hear that gospel no more; and never will, till he hears its final
curse pronounced upon him. Another, causelessly absented
himself fiom the house of God, or some other place of religious
instruction, when, had he listened to the suggestions of conscience, he might have heard the sermon which had been to
him the power of God unto salvation. Another, has yielded
to the influence of an irreligious friend, who has enticed or
threatened him, and for the sake of his friendship has resolved
to forego the friendship of his God, and permitted his soul to




THE HARVEST PAST.                  445
be murdered by the very hands which should have saved it.
Another, intimidated by reproach or ridicule, has checked,
and concealed, and stifled the monitions of truth and of conscience; and because he is ashamed to think of that which is of
highest esteem with angels, and Christ, and God himself, of
him the Son of man will be ashamed when he comes to judgment. Another, to banish the thoughts of religion, to dispel
the gloom and the forebodings of conscious guilt at an hour
when had he resorted to retirement, and consented to be alone
with God, his soul might have received his image, resorts
to vain conversation, to diversion, which in other circumstances had been harmless, to a party of pleasure, to the gay
assembly-room, to something which diverts the thoughts and
feelings of the mind, and thus grieves away the Spirit of all
grace, and seals his final ruin. Thus eventful are many of the
acts of man. They become the infallible occasions of future
continuance in sin. What memorable examples are furnished
by the young ruler going away sorrowful from the Saviour,
because "he had great possessions," and could not part with
them; by Felix saying to Paul., " Go thy way for this time,
when I lhave a convenient season I will call for thee."  Could
we draw aside the vail that conceals the providence of God,
we should doubtless see, in the history of every soul that is
lost, some act, some purpose, some state of heart, some violence done to conscience, which was the fatal step away from
the grace of God-the commencement of that downward career, in which mercy was never to reach him-the turningpoint of life and death eternal-the hour in which his day of
grace terllminated, and from which the only result of his protracted life, was the accumulation of wrath-the hour when
the harvest was past, when the sunmner ended.
3. The same precious season is often terminated by the
abuse and perversion of distinguishing grace.
There is no law of nature of more infallible operation than
that the gospel, when it does not soften, hardens the heart
-when it does not save, damns the soul. It is a "savor of




446              THE HARVEST PAST.
life unto life, or of death unto death;" and, in exact proportion to the abundance and power of the means resisted, are
guilt and hardness of heart augmented. Thus it is that the
sinner's measure of iniquity is often rapidly filled up and his
perdition made certain, long before death overtakes him.
"Woe unto thee, Chorazin! woe unto thee, Bethsaida! for if
the mighty works which were done in you, had been done in
Tyre and Sidon, they would have repented long ago in sackcloth and ashes."  Thus he wept over Jerusalem: "If thou
hadst known, even thou, at least in this thy day, the things
which belong unto thy peace! but now they are hid fron
thine eyes."
On this principle of providential dispensation many a youth
who has persisted in a wayward course of sin, amid the counsels, the expostulations, and entreaties of parental piety, has
early reached that profligacy and hardihood in sin, which
evinces the utter inefficacy of all the means of grace and salvation.
Others, and those of every age, who have sat under the
plain, pungent preaching of the gospel, and who have thus, in
order to continue in sin, been obliged to resist the clearest
dictates of their understanding, to maintain a constant conflict
with conscience from Sabbath to Sabbath, and who have perhaps resisted a degree of moral influence which has resulted
in the conversion of many around them, often reach the point
of hopeless obduracy of heart and fatal abandonment of God.
Every faithful minister of the gospel is thus the occasion of
perdition to multitudes. It is credibly related that in a place
where MIr. Whitefield preached, and was greatly opposed by
mnany, that not one of his opposers was known afterward to
give evidence of piety, and that nothing like a revival of religion was known there, until every such opposer was dead.
When, in addition to the more ordinary means of grace, opportunities of hearing the gospel preached, are multiplied-when
religion and the concerns of the soul become extensively the
topics of conversation in families and among neighbors when




THE HARVEST PAST.                    447
the professed followers of Christ awake to a faithful discharge
of these duties and converse with sinners, solemnly and pungently, about the neglected concerns of the soul-and when,
these extra opportunities and means are resolutely shunned
and neglected, or when, in any way, their influence is resisted,
then it is that multitudes put themselves beyond the influence
of the most powerful means that will ever be used for their
salvation, and live only to " treasure up wrath against the day
of wrath."
I might dwell on many other particulars under this head.
Every event of Providence in the natural world, from  the
opening of the flower of the field to the sweep of a tornadoevery event in the moral world, from the admonition of a
friend to the heavens opened above us in showers of grace and
salvation, is an effort to save -the soul of man. The hand of
Providence, is the hand of God.  The voice of truth, is the
voice of God. The whole systemn of events, is a system of experiment on the heart of the sinner to bring him to God and
life again. But when the experiment has been fully made,
and mnade in vain, then does God himself take up the lamentation over him: "O Ephraim, what shall I do unto thee?
O Judah, what shall I do unto thee?"'E"phraim is joined to
his idols, let him alone."  The God of grace despairs, and well
may it be said, "The harvest is past, the s-l rnimer is ended."
4. This season of mercy often terminates with a season of
peculiar divine influence.
There are periods in the life of almost every one when the
truths of religion have peculiar efficacy. The Spirit of God
carries those truths to the conscience with a power which cannot be wholly resisted. Such intervals of conviction may be
longer or shorter, the conviction itself may be more or less
pungent, but let the subject resist and grieve away the Spirit
of God, and' the last state of that man is worse than the first.
God, when he thus awakens the sinner, does the most that God
can do to bring him to repentance, short of actual regeneration; and no act of the sinner so jeopardizes his salvation as to




448              THE HARVEST PAST.
stifle such convictions and grieve the Holy Ghost. The sinner
struggles away from this grasp of omnipotent' mercy, and God
puts into execution that awful denunciation, "My Spirit shall
not always strive with man." It is, however, there is reason
to believe, peculiarly true that such judgments are executed
on sinners after seasons of the outpouring of the Spirit on the
community where they dwell. At no other period of their
probation are such diversified and powerful efforts made by
the Spirit of grace for their salvation. Then it is not only that
the ordinary means of grace are greatly multiplied, but then
also many are used which are peculiar to such seasons, and all
have a peculiar efficacy. Then it is that a peculiar divine
unction attends the preaching of the word of life-the attention is fixed, and the solemn assembly is moved by the Spirit
of God as the trees by a mighty wind. Then it is that the
fervor of effectual prayer takes hold of the counsels of God
and draws down the blessings of his grace. The false glare of
earthly objects fades, the realities of eternity come near and
rise on the mind with their real magnitude. Then it is that
every sensibility of the soul is touched, and obligation puts its
firm grasp on the conscience. Then in the mother, the child,
the wvife, natural affection draws with all its tenderness, sympathy awakens and softens and melts to kindlier emotions,
the voice of friendship and entreaty wins, the beauty and excellence of religion attracts, hope animates, fear alarms. Then
it is that the scenes of apostolic days pass before us again, the
tears of contrition and the joys and songs of hope, the love
of brethren and their sweet communion, in gladness and
singleness of heart are witnessed. The prince of life, in actual
conflict with the grand adversary, multiplies his victories. The
majestic goings of a sovereign God are seen and confessed, as
in the execution of new purposes of grace and mercy, angels
exult, and the powers of the world to come, rest with deep and
awful pressure on every mind. Varied as the effects are, none
are indifferent; and oh, I have seen it here-that silent, soli.
tary, engrossing agony which each will feel amid the surround




THE HARVEST PAST.                   449ing millions of the last day. The scoffer and the blasphemei
are compelled to new efforts of resistance; the skeptic beholds,
despises, and wonders; the grave and prudent wait with
affected composure, but with real solicitude, to see whether
the work be of God or of man; the speculatist summons his
pride of intellect and reasons away the Holy Ghost; the pro:
crastinator in religion half relinquishes, but scarcely retains
his purpose of delay; the worldling immerses himself in- new
cares and hurry and bustle; the men of pleasure multiply
their feasts and amusements; youth seek for laughter and
mirth where it is not; and thus all, in varied ways of counteraction and resistance, evince the presence of the Holy Ghost
no less really than the sinner who, pricked in the heart, bows
at the feet of mercy.
What is the result of such a season of divine visitation?.
As many as are ordained to eternal life believe, while other
multitudes, as the reward of their voluntary obduracy and impenitence, are left to seal their own damnation. At such a
season, God seems to make his last, highest efforts to save;
and those unhappy men who resist them, and still persevere
in impenitence, of all others run the most fearful risk of final
abandonment of that God who has done so much to save them.
It is of such that God says, "Ephraimn: is joined to idols, let
him  alone."  Maake the appeal to facts. Of those who had
arrived at manhood during the outpouring of the Spirit in this
town, in the years 1807 and 1808, how many have since, in the
two successive revivals, been brought into the church, or dare
hope that they are Christians?  So few, as to make the heart
of every one ",meditate terror," who has witnessed and outlived in sin a revival of religion.
Let every such person reflect on the principles of God's dispensations; let him reflect what peculiar influences from God
he perverted, what a scene of divine wonders he has witnessed
unmoved; let him think of the frailty of his life, the little
probability that these efforts of grace will be repeated,: the still~
less probability of their efficacy, if they- should be;  let hil:
29




450              THE HARVEST PAST.
ask, if God is ever to interpose by his grace in his behalf, why
he has not done it already; let him remember that he persisted in his impenitence with his eyes open on the awful
hazard of doing it, and with the warnings of God sounding
in his ears; let him remember, for he may know the fact, that
he has attained to a hardness of heart that can resist all that
the God of mercy ever does for the conversion of men, and
then let him say, if there is not in his case one of the most
decisive proofs, short of death itself, that his harvest is past,
his summer ended, and he not saved!
5. Dleath ends the day of grace to all.
Often wild delirium, or a benumbing stupor, or the violence
of disease terminates these precious hours of mercy before the
spirit departs. It is far the most frequent effect of fatal disease, either in the ways just specified, or by giving only doubtful indications of-its fatal termination, or through the false
hopes excited by the desire to live, or by the deception of
friends, that it wholly incapacitates for the work of repentance.
Did you ever see a dying sinner?  Consider his weakness,
and his pain, and say what power has his poor departing spirit
to work out his salvation. Thus, instead of a faithful monitor
to rouse the soul to the great work of preparation for eternity,
it becomes only a decisive index that the day of mercy is' over.
But death itself is to all the close of probation. It ushers the
soul that is unprepared into the presence of its Judge to receive its unchangeable doom. "It is appointed unto men once
to die, and after that the judgment." The end of probation
must come. The mighty angel standing on the earth and the
sea shall lift his hand to heaven, and swear that time shall be
no longer. Then all will be eternal, unchangeable retribution.
The day is near when these Sabbaths will no more rise upon
us with this heavenly light, when these doors of the sanctuary
will no more be opened to us; when no sermon will be heard,
no prayers offered; when God will invite no more, the Holy
Ghost strive no more; when these accents of mercy will no
longer follow the listening ear; when cries, and tears, and




THE HARVEST PAST.                   451
groans will no longer avail, and when the unforgiverl sinner,
either under the certain anticipation, or actual reality of ceaseless and unmitigated wrath, shall be forced to say, the day of
merciful visitation is past.
And now, my dear hearers, has not this subject, in some or
all of its parts, a direct and solemn application to many of
you?  Are there not some from whom  the precious season
of youth has passed away, or is just passing, who, instead
of availing yourselves of this season of promise, have only
spent it in iresisting the instructions, and warnings, and prayers,
and entreaties of Christian friends? Instead of improving the
advantages of this period of life, have you not wasted them
all, and surrounded yourselves with all the disadvantages, and:hindrances, and hopelessness of more advanced age? Are
there not some of you who have reason to tremble, lest you
have taken that first and fearful step in the downward way to
ruin, which you will never retrace?-been guilty of that single
act, which was the fatal harbinger of those successive steps
which take hold on hell? Inquire whether you have not done
s.ome deed of open and decisive contempt of God, of direct
objurgation of his Son, of despite unto the Spirit of grace,
which marks you as one who is to die, not only without mercy,
but under the sorer punishment of a despised gospel.
Have you not all been favored by distinguishing means of
grace? I venture to say, there is not a spot on the globe more
signally blessed in this respect, and of course not one where
those who neglect and abuse the means furnished, more rapidly
ripen for perdition. And yet are there not many who, before
God, are chargeable with such neglect and abuse; many who
have not only disregarded the calls of the gospel, a thousand
and a thousand times repeated, but many too, who, with a deter-'
mined hardihood in sin, have stood entirely aside, and most
studiously shunned all the peculiar and abundant means of a
season of divine visitation? And have not that number just
cause to fear that all the means which may be used in their behalf will be equally vain?. I go further. Is there one among




452             THE HIARVEST PAST.
us who, during the season of this outpouring of the Spirit, has
not felt the sacred influence?. I do not ask: in what effects that
influence may have appeared; whether in more decided hostility to the gospel, toward Christians and religion generally,
or in deep conviction of sin, and a thorough conversion to God.
But is there any one who has not had thoughts and feelings
peculiar to such a season?  -Iave not peculiar fears and anxieties at times disturbed you? Ilas not conscience administered
louder and sharper reproofs  ItHas it not cost you a measure
of resistance, in order to avoid religious seriousness, which at
times is not necessary? And have not the artifices of the devil
to blind and stupefy the heart, and to enable you to resist
the Holy Ghost, been peculiarly welcome? And have you
not made use of them to a degree that is both strange and
shocking o
Have not some of you who are now quiet in sin, at times,
trembled at the thought that God should pass you by-have
not others, now equally stupid, been actually constrained to
secret prayer, and to ask what you must do to be saved? In a
word, are there any who have not felt the-solicitude, the awe,
and the agitation of witnessing the power and the grace of a
present God; and yet are not many forgetting, or have they
not already forgotten it all?  These are questions, my dear
hearers, which each one can answer for himself. And, oh, could
we take ofi' all concealment from the divine counsels, and see
what God sees, what lamentation, and despair, and horror
would possess even now many a soul, at the prospect-of his
remediless abandonment of God! It is true that we cannot
specifyr these unhappy victims of folly and of sin; but can we
doubt that there are such?  Can we think what God has done
on this theater of his mercy, and what they have done, what
they are now doing, and then reflect on the revealed: methods
of divine providence, and not believe that on many the grand
experiment of eternal mercy has been made, and. that the only
result is hopeless impenitence andhopeless perdition?. And
were an angel to go from seat to seat, and disclose what the




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eye of Omniscience sees, what bursts of horror might be heard
in the cry, "The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and we
are not saved.!"
But the time is not remote when what is now unknown, shall
be made known. Let me assure the man who can now bid
the stoutest defiance to the message of the gospel, whose heart
rears an insurmountable barrier to the grace of God, and who
rej ects every truth of this discourse upon the plea of fanaticism,
or of strange peculiarity, or severe and gloomy views of the
gospel, that the time may come, even in this world, when he
will do homage to the truth he now despises.  Such a one
may despise it while in the vigor of health, amid the activity
and occupation of life, and while he feels his mountain to
stand strong on the foundation of earthly good. But will he
despise it on the bed of death? Is he sure that, with the same
firmness of nerve, he can think of it when death conies to look
at him in earnest? Will he be able to cast an undaunted eye
back upon his probation, even upon this auspicious hour of it,
wasted in rejecting the great salvation, and forward on the
coming judgment of a righteous God? Oh, who can tell the
angullish of such a one, when on the bed of sickness-a sickness which he knows to be unto death! And when finding
withlin him a heart that has despised a;Saviour's mercy so long,
thlat it rejects it still-a heart so hard and so stubborn, that it
yields not, but remains as stubborn and unmoved by a Saviour's
glories as ever, even when the terrors of death and the grave
have taken hold of him! Oh, who can tell the anguish of such
a one when, under all the weight of breathlessness and pain,
and on the brink of eternity, he is forced to cry, "The harvest
is past, the summer is ended, and I am not saved!"  Such
horror, such anguish has been witnessed. I have seen a fellow-man die thus, and heard this exclamation from his lips.
I heard him say, "The harvest is past, the summer is ended,
and I am not saved."  -Ie said it, and died.  And, fellowsinner, you may die thus. And that which shall give peculiar
poignancy to your anguish, may be the remembrance of these




454             THE HARVEST PAST.
bright hours of mercy.  Miay feel it? —you will feel it, should
you die in sin; if not at the hour of death, at the judgmentseat, and through the ages of eternity. On the day of the
second death it will be found, that not the imaginations of
man, but the sentence of God will stand.
When the sound of the last trumpet shall be heard, calling
the dead from their graves-when, amid a burning world, dissolving elements, and rolling heavens, the Judge shall be seen,
then it will be felt that what God hath said, God will do. On
that day each will mourn apart; and, oh! what must be his
lamentation, when in the unchanging decision from, that
throne, and in the certain, dark, and woeful prospect of a
ruined eternity, he learns that his probation is over forever.
Then, to think of the thousand solicitations of his God to
accept of pardon and glory eternal-the glowing entreaties of
a crucified Saviour's love; then to think of this place where
so many accepted these overtures of grace, of the thousand
sermons, and prayers, and Sabbaths-this gate of heaven, which
so many entered-of the friends and companions that entreated
and urged acceptance of the great salvation-of the compassion and long-suffering of God, that waited and wooed and
threatened and almost forced acceptance-of the riches of that
grace that pardoned and sanctified and fitted others for eternal bliss-and then to look up to that' bright world and see
them there-to see them high in those realms of bliss-the full
inheritance of the Redeemer's purchase, the trophies of a
Saviour's love-their raptures, and crowns, and fullness of joy,
and to say, once it nmight have been mine-once it was freely
offered to my acceptance-but, oh! I slighted it all when
placed within my reach. Oh! that day of mercy and of
hope!-could I call back but one hour of it to ask for mercy!
But no; God has closed the ear of his compassion, so long
abused. Jesus has no sacrifice for sin to proffer; the entreaties of his love are heard no more; the grand catastrophe of my
immortal being has come; and now these chains, this darkness, these fires forever and ever! Oh, my dear hearers, can




THE HARVEST PAST.                  455
you bear such a hell as this? Can you bear even this thought,
that there was an hour when heaven might have been yours,
and hell was chosen? The present may be such an hour. It
has all the value now, which it would have in your estimation
were you rolling in the lake of fire. Improve it, then. Peradventure it is a last hour of mercy. Awake now, or soon
you may awake in the horrors of despairing guilt, to say,
"The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I am not
saved."
But venture on the way of determined sin, and what can
you expect? In that path stands death, with which you have
made no covenant. On that path an angry God pours only
the darkness and tempest and fire of his indignation. Aye, at
the next step in it, a reprobating God may say, " lie is joined
to his idols; let him alone."  let him  alone, ye ambassadors
of God's salvation. let himln alone, ye angels of mercy. Prayers, entreaties, calls of Christian love and friendship, let Mhi
alone. Thou, only Saviour of the guilty and the lost, let him
alone.'Tis done. I-eaven is lost. Iell is his certain doom.
"The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and he is not
saved."
END OF VOLUME I.