/'; li \J < ,1 1^::... 'I! 1 !iii':!lliilii iiii P I J li \W' 40 SERMON.— THE ANCHOR OF THE SOUL, PREACHED AT TRINITY CHURCH, CHELSEA, JULY, 1836, IN BEHALF OF THE EPISCOPAL FLOATING CHAPEL -----.... 047 SERMON.— THE DIVINE PATIENCE EXHAUSTED THROUGH THE MAKING VOID THE LAW ---.... 055 SERMON .—THE STRENGTH WHICH FAITH GAINS BY EXPERIENCE - 266 MISCELLANEOUS SERMONS. SERMON I.— JACOB'S VISION AND VOW ---..- 276 SERMON II —THE CONTINUED AGENCY OF THE FATHER AND THE SON - 287 SERMON III.— THE RESURRKCTION OF DRY BONES - - ' - - "96 SERMON IV.— PROTESTANTISM AND POPERY 307 SER.MON v.— CHRISTIANITY A SWORD - . ... 319 SERMON VI.— THE DEATH OF MOSES - - -• . . . . S'^S SERMON VII.— THE ASCENSION OF CHRIST - . . . - 338 SERMON VIII.— THE SPIRIT UPON THE WATERS ... 348 SKRMON IX.— THE PROPORTION OF GRACE TO TRIAL - - -359 SER.MON X.— PLEADING BEFORE THE MOUNTAINS ... 370 SERMON XI.— HEAVEN 381 SER.MON XII.— GOD'S WAY IN THE SANCTUARY - - 394 SERMON XIII.— EQUITY OF THE FUTURE RETRIBUTION - 406 1291G.'57 EDITOR S PREFACE The autlioi* of these discourses is well known in England as an eloquent and earnest preacher of the Gospel, " EuNy itself," says the British Critic, " must acknowledge his great abilities and great eloquence." After having occupied the highest standing, while an under-graduale of the University of Cambridge, he was chosen to a Fellowship in St. Peter's College, and, for some time, was a tutor to that Society Thence he was called to the pastoral charge of Camden Chapel, (a pro- prietary chapel,) in the overgi'own parish of Camberwell, one of the populous suburbs of London. The first twelve discourses in this volume were preached in that pulpit, and the rest, while he was connected therewith. It has not unfrequently been the privilege of the Editor to worship and Li&len, in company with the highly interesting and intelligent congregation that crowds the pews and aisles, and every corner of a standing-place in that edifice ; fully participating in that entire and delightful captivity of mind in wliich their beloved pastor is wont to lead the whole mass o^ bis numerous auditory. Melvill is not yet what is usually called a middle-aged man. His constitution and physic% p ower s are feeble. His lungs and chest needing constant care and protection, often seem deter mined to submit no longer to the efforts they are required to make in keeping pace with his high- wrought and intense animation. The hearer sometimes listens with pain lest arj instrument so frail, and struck by a spirit so nerved with the excitement of the most inspiring themes, should suddenly break some silver cord, and jsut to silence a harper whose notes of thunder, and strains of warning, invitation, and tenderness, the church is not prepared to lose. Generally, however, one thihks but little of the speaker while hearing Melvill. The manifest defects of a very peculiar delivery, both as regards its action and intonation : (if that may be called action which is the mere quivering and jerking of a body too intensely excited to be quiet a moment) — the evident feebleness and exhaustion of aframe charged to the brim with an earnestness which seems laboring to find a tongue in every limb, while it keeps in strain and rapid action every muscle and fibre, are forgotten, after a little progress of the discourse, in the rapid and swelling current of thought in which the hearer is carried along, wholly engrossed with the new aspects, the rich and glowing scenery, the bold promi neiices and beautiful landscapes of truth, remarkable both for variety and unity, with which every turn of the stream delights him. But then one must make haste, if he would see all. Melvill de- livers his discourses as a war-horse rushes to the charge. He literally runs, till for want of breath he can do so no longer. His involuntary pauses are as convenient to his audience as essential to himself. Then it is, that an equally breathless audience, betraying the most convincing signs of having forgotten to breathe, commence their preparation for the next outset with a degree of unan- imity and of business-like effort of adjustment, which can hardly fail of disturbing, a little, a strang- er's gravity, Ther6 is a peculiarity in the composition of Melvill's congregation wliich contributes much to give peculiarity to his discourses. His chapel is a centre to which hearers flock, drawn by the re- putation of the preacher, not only from all the neighborhood, but from divers parts of the gi-eat me- tropolis, bringing under his reach, not only the higlicst intellectual character, but all varieties of states of mind ; from that of the devout believer, to that of the habitual doubter, or confirmed infidel. In this mixed multitude, young men, of great importance, occupy a large place. Seed sown in that congregation is seen scattered over all London and carried into all England. Hence there is an ONa- deut effort on the part of the preacher to introduce as much variety of topic and of treatment as is consistent with the great duty of always preaching and teaching Jesus Christ; of always holding up the cross, with all its connected truths surrounding it, as the one great and all-pervading subject of his ministry. To these circumstances Ire alludes in a passage towards the end of the sermon on the Difficulties of Scripture, a sermon we would particularly recommend to the reader — and a pas*- 6 editor's preface. age, introductory to one of the most eloquent and impressive parts of the whole volume. '•' Ws feel (he says) that we have a difficult part to perform in ministerin" to the congregation which assem- bles within these walls. Gathered as it is from many parts and without question including, often- times, numbers who make no professiou, whatsoever, of religion, we think it bound on us to seek out great variety of subjects, so that, if possible, the case of none of the audience may be quite over- looked in a series of discourses." We know not the preacher who succeeds better in this respect; who causes to pass before liis people a richer, or more complete aiTay of doctrinal and practical truth; e.vhibits it in a greate- variety of lights; sun-ounds it with a scenery of more appropriate and striking illustration ; meets more of the influential difficulties of young and active minds ; grap- f)les with more of the real enmity of scepticism, and for all classes of his congregation more dihgent- y " seeks out acceptable words," or brings more seasonably, out of his treasures, things new and old, and yet without failing to keep within the circle of always preaching Christ — teaching not on- ly the trutli, but •' the truth as it is in Jesus," without obscurit)', without compromise, and without fear ; pointedly, fidly, habitually. It is on account of this eminent union of variety and faithfulne.^s, this wide compass of excursion •without ever losing sight of the cross as the central light and power in which every thing in religion lives, and moves, and has its being ; it is because that same variety of minds which throng the seats and standing-places of Camden chapel, and hang with delight upon the lips of the preacher, finding in his teaching what rivets their attention, rebukes their worldliness, shames their doubts, annihilates then- difficulties, and enlarges tlieir views of the great and precious things of the Gospel, are found every where in this land, especially among our educated young men, that we have sup- posed the publication of these discom-ses might receive the Divine blessing, and be productive of very important lienefits. It can hardly be necessary to say, that in causing a volume to issue from the press, as this does, one does not make himself resj)onsible for every jot and tittle of what it contains. It may be cal culated powerfully to arrest attention, disarm prejudice, conciliate respect, stimulate inquiry, im- press most vital truth ; and in many ways effect a great deal of good, though we be not prepared to concur with its author in some minor thoughts or incidental ideas on which none of the great matters in his volume depend. There are some aspects in which these discourses may be profitably studied by candidates for orders, and indeed by most preachers, exclusive of the substantial instruction of their contents. We do not refer to tlieir slt/le. This we cannot recommend for imitation. However wo may like it in Melvill, l)ecausc it is emphatically his, the mode of his mind ; the gait in which his thoughts most naturally march on their high places ; the raiment in which his inner man invests itself, wth- out eSbrt, and almost of necessity, when he takes the place of ambassador of the King of kings, we might not like it any where else. However this peculiar turn and swell of expression may be adafJted to that peculiar breadth, and height, and brilliancy of conception for which this author is often distinguished; with all those other attributes which adapt his discourses to opportunities of usefulness not often improved ; and a class of readers not often attracted, by the preacher ; we ehould think it a great evil if our candidates for orders should attempt to appear in such flowing robes. For the same reason that they sit well on him, would they sit awkwardly on them. They are his, and not theirs. His mind was measured for such a dress. Nature made it up and adapt- ed it to liis st)de of thought, insensible to himself. The diligent husbandman may be as useful in his way, as the prince in his. But the husbandman in the equipment of the prince would be sadly out of keeping. Not more than if a mind of the usual turn and character of thought should emu- late the stride and the swing, the train and the plumage of Melvill. It is in the expository character of this author's discourses, that we would present them for imi- tation. Of the expositions themselves, we ai-e not speaking; but of the conspicuous fact that what- ever Scripture he selects, his sermon is made up of its elements. His text does not merely in- troduce his subject, but suggests and contains it ; and not only contains, but is identical with it. His aim is confined to the single object of setting forth plainly and instriiclivelt/ scmie one or two great features of scriptural truth, of which the chosen passage is a distinct declaration. No matter what tVie topic, the hearer is sure of an interesting and prominent setting out of the text in its con- nection, and that it will exercise an important bearing upon every branch of the discourse, con- stantly receiving new liglits and applications, and not finally relinquished till the sermon is ended, and the hearer has obtained an inception of that one passage of the Bible upon his mind, never to be forgotten. In other words, Melvill is strictly a preacher upon texts, instead oi subjects ; upon truths, as expressed and connected in the Bible, instead of topics, as insulated or classified, accord- ing to the ways of man's wisdom. This is precisely as it should be. The preacher is not called to deliver dissertations upon questions of theology, or orations upon specific themes of duty and spiritual interest, but expositions of divine truth as that is presented in the infinitely diversified combinations, and incidental allocations of the Scriptures. His work is simply that of making, through the blessing of God, the Holy Scriptures " profitable for doctrine, reproof, correction, and instruction in righteousness." This ho is to seek by endeavoring " rightly to divide the word of truth." Too much, by far, has the preaching of these days departed from this expository character. The praise of invention is too much coveted. Thesiinplicity of interpretation and application is too much undervalued. We must be content to take the bread as the Lord has created it, and perform the humble ofiice of distribution, going round amidst the multitude, and giving to all as each may need, believing that he who ])rovided it will see that there be enough and to spare, instead of desiring to stand in the ])lace of the Master, and improve by our wisdom tlio simple elements, " the Jive barley loaves'" which he alone can make sufficient " among so many." But apart from the duty of preacliing vppn and out of the Scriptures, instead of merely taking averse as the starting-place of our train of remark; apart from the obligati(Tn of so expounding the word of God, that the sermon shall take its shape and character from the text ; and the doctrine EDITOR'S PREFACE. 7 ■nd the du»y shall be taught and urged according to the relative bearings and proportions in which they aro presented therein; this textual plan of constructing discourses is the only one by which a preacher can secure a thio variety iu his ministry, except ho go outside the limits of always preach' ing Cin'ist crucified, and deal with other matters than such as bear an important relation to the per- son, ofhce, and benefits of " the Lord our Righteousness." Ho who preaches upon subjects in divinity, instead of passages of Scripture, fitting a text to his theme, instead of extracting his theme from his text, will soon find that, in the ordinary frequency of parochial ministrations, ho has gone the round, and traced all the great highways of his field, and what to do next, without repeating his com'se, or changing his whole mode of proceeding, he will be at a great loss to discover. Dis- tinct objects in tlie preacher's message, like the letters in his alphabet, are few — few when it is considered that liis life is to be occupied in exhibiting them. But their combinations, like those of the letters of the alphabet, are innumerable. Few are the distmct classes of objects which make up the beautiful landscapes under the light and shadows of a summer's day. The naturalist, who describes by genera and species, may soon enumerate them. But; boundless is the variety of as- pects in which they appear under all their diversities of shape, color, relation, magnitude, as the observer changes place, and sun and cloud change the light. The painter must paint for ever to exhibit all. So as to tlie great truths to which the preacher must give himself for life. Their variety of combinations, as exhibited in the Bible, is endless. He who treats them with strict reference to all the diversities of shajje, proportion, incident, relation, circumstance, under which the pen of inspiration has left them, changing his point of observation with the changing positions and wants of his hearers, allowing the lights and shadows of Providence to lend their rightful influ- ence in varying the aspect and applications of the truth — such a preacher, if his heart be fully in his work, can never lack variety, so far as it is proper for one who is to " know nothing among men but Jesus Christ and him ciiicificd." He will constantly feel as if he had only begun the work given him to do — furnished only a few specimens out of a rich and inexhaustible cabinet of gems. By strictly adhering to this plan, the author of these discourses attains unusual variety in his ministry, considering that he makes it so prominently his business to teach and j^reach Jesus Christ. But here it may be well to say that by variety, as desirable to a certain extent, in the preacher s work, we mean nothing like originality. Some minds cannot help a certam measure of originality. They may treat of old themes, and with ideas essentially the same as any one else would employ, but with peculiarities of thought which set them far apart from all other minds. But to seek origi- nality, while it is veiy commonly the mistake of young preachers, is a veiy serious error. There cannot be any thing new in the preacher's message. He that seeks novelties wall be sure to preach fancies. " The real difficulty and the real triumph of preaching is to enforce home upon the mind and conscience, trite, simple, but all-important truths ; to urge old topics in common language, and to send the hearer back to his house awakened, humbled, and impressed ; not so much aston- ished by the blaze of oratory, but thinking far more of the argument than of the preacher ; sensible of his own sins, and anxious to grasp the proffered means of salvation. To say the same things which the best and most pious ministers of Christ's church have said from the beginning ; to tread m their path, to follow their footsteps, and yet not servilely to copy, or verbally to repeat them; to take the same groundwork, and yet add to it an enlarged and diversified range of illustrations, brought up as it were to the age, and adapted to time and circumstance; this is, we think, the true originality of the pulpit. To be on the watch to sti-ike out some novel method of display, — to dash into the fanciful, because it is an arduous task to arrest the same eager notice by the familiar — this is not originality, but mannerism or singularity. And although few can be original, nothing is more easy than to be singular." The discourses contained in these volumes are all that Melvill has published, unless there be one, or two, in pamphlet form, of which the Editor has not heard. We say all that Melvill has pub- lished. Many others have been published surreptitiously, which he never prepared for the press, and which ought not to be read as specimens of his preaching. In the English periodical called " The Pulpit," there are many such sermons, imder the name of Melvill. In justice to that dis- tinguished preacher, and to all others whoso names are similarly used, it should be known that the contents of that work are mere stenographic rejjorts, by hired agents of tlie press, who go to church that they may get an article for the next number of The Pulpit. While the rest of the congregation are hearing the sermon for spiritual, they are hearing it for pecuniary profit. We see no difference between a week-day press, furnished thus by Sunday writers, and a Sunday-press furnished by week-day writers. " The Pulpit " is in this way as much a desecrater of the Sab- bath as the " Sunday Morning Post," or " Herald." But this is not the point at present. We are looking at the exceeding injustice done to the preacher whose sermons are reported. It may be that he is delivering a very familiar, perhaps an unwritten discourse; special circumstances have prevented his devoting the usual time or mind to the preparation, or have interfered with his get- mg up the usual energy of thought for the work. He does not dream of the public press. The sermon may be useful for his people, but just the one which he would dislike to send out before the world. Nevertheless, the reporter for The Pulpit has happened to choose his church, that morning, "for better, for worse," and he cannot lose his time. The tale of bricks must be ren- dered to the taskmaster. The i^ress waits for its article, and the stenographer wants his wages, and favorable or unfivorable, the report must be printed. Like all such productions, it is of course often careless and inaccurate ; sometimes provokingly and very injuriously inaccurate. The at- tention of the scribe happened to be diverted at a place of main importance ; he lost the ex{)lana- tory remark, the qualifying words, the connecting link — his report is thus untrue : either he leaves the hiatus, occasioned by his negligence, unsupplied, or, what is often the case, daubs it up with his own mortar, puts many sentences into the preacher's mouth of his own taste and divinity — thus is the precious specimen composed, and that week is advertised, to the great mortification of tlie B editor's preface. alleged author, an original sermon in the last number of the Pulpit, hythe Rev. Henry Melvill, S^e, Such is tlio history of almost every serinou which has as yet beeu read in tliis couutry as belong- ing to that author ; The Pulpit, or extracts from it having circulated widely, while the real sermons of Melvill, having been, prior to this, confined to volumes of English edition, are scarcely known among us. No ouo can help seeing how injurious such surreptitious publications must be to the preacher ; what a nuisance to tlie body whom they profess to represent. So is the magazine of which wo have been speaking, regarded in England. Not uufrequently mmisters have been obhged to pnnt their discourses for the purpose of correcting the errors of its reporters. More than once its Editor has been prosecuted for the purpose (though in vain) of stopping this exceeding- ly objectionable mode of sustaining " The Pulpit." The editor of these volumes has thought it expedient to make these remarks by way of explanation of his having excluded all the discourses ascribed to Melvill contained in The Pulpit. If there be any discourses under the same name, in the other periodical of the same character, called the British Preacher, they are subject to the same condemnation. It is no little evidence of the value of these sermons, in these volumes, which were preached before the University of Cambridge, that their publication was in consequence of a request " from the resident Bachelors and Uuder-gi'aduates, headed by the most distinguished names, and numerously Bigned." A strong attestation has also been given not only to the University sermons, but to those preached in the author's Chapel, in Camberwell, in the fact that, flooded as is the market with the immense variety of pulpit composition, which the London press continually pours in, so that a bookseller can scaixely be persuaded to publish a volume of sermons at his own risk, and such a volume seldom reaches beyond a single edition, these of Melvill have, in a short time, attained their third, and do not cease to attract much attention. The British Critic, though criticismg with some justice and moi-e severity some peculiarities of our author, speaks of the Cambridge sermons as " possessing many specimens of great power of thought, and extraordinary felicity and brilliancy of diction." "Heartily" does the Reviewer "admire the breathing words, the bold figm-es, the picturesque images, the forcible reasonings, the rapid, vivid, fervid perorations." In couclusiou of this Preface, the Editor adds the earnest hope that the author of these discourses may receive wages, as well in this couutiy as his own — wages such as best pay the devoted minis- ter of Christ ; that he may reap where he did not tliiuk of sowing, and gather where he did not ex- pect to strew, to the praise of the glory of our blessed Lord, aad Duly JSavior Jesus Christ. *^ C P. M. SERMON I. THE FIRST PROPHECY. •And I wil put enmity between thee and the woman, and between thy seed and her seed: it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel." — Genesis, iii^ 15. Such is the first prophecy which oc- curs in Scripture. Adam and Eve had transgressed the simple command of their Maker; they had hearkened to the suggestions of the tempter, and eaten of the forbidden fruit. Summoned into the presence of God, each of the three par- ties is successively addressed; but the serpent, as having originated evil, re- ceives first his sentence. AVe have, of course, no power of as- certaining the external change Avhich the curse brought uj^on the serpent. The terms, however, of the sentence, " upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life," Gen. 3 : 14, seem to imply that the ser- pent had not been created a reptile, but became classed with creeping things, as a consequence of the curse. It is proba- ble that heretofore the serpent had been remarkable for beauty and sjjlendor, and that on this account tl^e tem^^ter chose it as the vehicle of his apj^roaches. Eve, in all likelihood, was attracted towards the creature by its loveliness : and -when she found it endowed, like herself, with the power of speech, she possibly concluded that it had itself eaten of the fruit, and ac- quired thereby a gift which she thought confined to herself and her husband. But we may be sure, that, although, to mark his hatred of sin, God pro- nounced a curse on the serjient, it was against the devil, who had actuated the serpent, that the curse was chiefly di- rected. It may be said that the serpent Itself must have been innocent in the matter, and that the curse should have fallen on none but the tempter. But you are to remember that the serpent suffered not alone : every living thing had share in the consequences of dis- obedience. And although the effect of man's apostacy on the serpent may have been moi-e signal and marked than on other creatures, we have no right to conclude that there was entailed so much greater suffering on this reptile as to distinguish it in misery from the rest of the animal creation. But undoubtedly it was the devil, more emphatically than the serpent, that God cursed for the seduction of man. The woi'ds, indeed, of our text have a primary application to the serpent. It is most strictly true, that, ever since the fall, there has been enmity between man and the serpent. Every man will in- stinctively recoil at the sight of a ser- pent. We have a natural and unconquer- able aversion from this tribe of living things, which we feel not in respect to others, even fiercer and more noxious. Men, if they find a serpent, will always strive to destroy it, bruising the head in which the poison lies ; whilst the serpent will often avenge itself, wounding its as- sailant, if not mortally, yet so as to make it true that it bruises his heel. But whilst the words have tlius, un- doubtedly, a fulfilment in respect of the serpent, we cannot question that their reference is chiefly to the devil. It was the devil, and not the serpent, which had beguiled the woman ; and it is only in a very limited sense that it could be said to the serpent, " Because thou hast done this." We are indeed so unac- quainted ^^^th transactions in the world of spirits, that we cannot pretend to de- termine what, or Avhether any, immedi- 2 10 THE I'IRST pnoPHEcr. ate change passed on the condition of Satan and his associates. If the curse upon the serpent took effect upon the devil, it would seem probable, that, ever since the fall, the power of Satao has been specially limited to this earth and its inhabitants. We may gather from the dennuciation, "Upon thy belly shalt thou go, and dust shalt thou eat all the days of thy life," that, in place of being allowed, as he might before time have been, to range through the universe, machinating against the peace of many orders of intelligence, he was confined to the arena of humanity, and forced to concentrate his energies on the destruc- tion of a solitary race. It would seem altogether possible, that, after his eject- ment from heaven, Satan had liberty to traverse the vast ai"ea of creation ; and that far-off stars and planets were ac- cessible to his wanderings. It is to the full as possible, that, as soon as man apostatized, God confirmed in their al- legiance other orders of beings, and shielded them from the assaults of the evil one, by chaining him to the earth on which he had just won a victory. And if, as the result of his having se- duced our first parents, Satan were thus, sentenced to confinement to this globe, we may readily understand how words, addressed to the serpent, dooming it to trail itself along the ground, had distinct reference to the tempter by whom that eerpent had been actuated. But, whatever be our opinion concern- ing this part of the curse, there can be no doubt that our text must be explained of the devil, though, as we have shown you, it has a partial fulfilment in respect of the serpent. We must here consider God as speaking to the tempter, and announcing war between Satan and man. We have called the words a prophecy; and, when considered as ad- dressed to the devil, such is properly their designation. But Avhcn we re- member that they were spoken in the hearing of Adam and Eve, we must re- gard them also in the light of a promise. And it is well worth remark, that, be- fore God told the woman of her sorrow and her trouble, and before ho told the man of the thorn, and the thistle, and ]he dust to which he should return, he caused them to hear words which must have inspired them with hope. Van- quished they were : and they might have thought that, with an undisputed su I)rcmacy, he who had prevailed to their overthrow would ever after hold them in vassalage. Must it not then have been cheering to them, whilst they stood as criminals before their God, expecting the sentence which disobedience had provoked, to hear that their conqueror should not enjoy unassaulted his con- quest, but that there were yet unde- veloped aiTangements which would en- sure to humanity final mastery over the oppressor? And though, when God turned and spake to themselves, he gave no word of encouragement, but dwelt only on the toil and the death which they had wrought into their portion, still the prophecy to which they had listened must have sunk into their hearts as a promise; and when, with lingei-ing steps, and the first teai's ever wept, they departed from the glorious precincts of Eden, we may believe that one sustain- ed the other by whispering the words, though " thou shalt bruise his heel, it shall bi'uise thy head." There can be no doubt that intima- tions of redemption were given to our guilty parents, and that they Avere in- structed by God to offer sacrifices which should shadow out the method of atone- ment. And though it does not of course fi)llow that we are in possession of all the notices mercifully afforded, it seems fair to conclude, as well from the time of delivery as from the nature of the an- nouncement, that our text was designed to convey comfort to the desponding; and that it was received as a message breathing deliverance by those who ex- pected an utter condemnation. Wc are not, however, much conccraed with the degree in which the prophecy was at first understood. It cannot justly be called an obscure prophecy : for it is (juite clear on the fact, that, by somo means or another, man should gain ad- vantage over Satan. And though, if con- sidered as referring to Christ, there bo a mystery about it, which could only be cleared up by after events, yet, as a general prediction of victory, it must have commended itself, we think, to the understanding and the heart of those of our race by whom it Avas first heard. But whether or no the prophecy were intelligible to Adam and Eve, unto our- selves it is a wonderful passage, spread- ing itself over the whole of time, and THE FIRST PROPHECY. 11 giviiifr outlines of the history of this world from the beginning to the final consummation. We caution you at once against an idea whicli many liavo enter- tained, that the prediction before us re- fers only, or even chiefly, to the Re- deemer. We shall indeed find, as we proceed, that Christ, who was specially the seed of the woman, specially bruised the head of the serpent. But the pro- phecy is to be interpreted in a much larger sense. It is nothing less than a delineation of an unwearied conflict, of which this eaith shall be the theatre, and which shall issue, though not with- out partial disaster to man, in the com- plete discomfiture of Satan and his asso- ciates. And no man who is familiar with other predictions of Scripture, can fail to find, in this brief and solitary verse, the announcement of those very strug- gles and conquests whicli occupy the gorgeous poetry of Isaiah, and crowd the mystic canvass of Daniel and St. John. We wish you, therefore, to dismiss, if you have ever entertained, contracted views of the meaning of our text. It must strike you at the first glance, that though Christ was in a peculiar sense the seed of the woman, the phrase ap- plies to others as well as the Redeemer. We are therefore bound, by all fair laws of interpretation, to consider that the prophecy must be fulfilled in more than one individual; especially as it declares that the woman, as well as her seed, should entertain the enmity, and thus marks out more than a single party as engaging in the conflict. Now there are one or two prelimina- ry observations which require all your attention, if you hope to enter into the fuH meaning of the prediction. We wish you, first of all, to remark particularly the expression, "I will put enmity." The enmity, you observe, had no natural existence : God declares his intention of putting enmity. As soon as man transgressed, his nature be- came evil, and therefore he was at peace, and not at v/ar with the devil. And thus, had there been no interference on the part of the Almighty, Satan and man would have formed alliance against hea- ven, and, in place of a contest between themselves, have carried on nothing but battle with God. There is not, and can- not be, a native enmity between fallen angels and fallen men. Both are evil, and both became evil through apostacy. But evil, wheresoever it exists, will al- ways league against good; so that fallen angels and fallen men were sure to join in a desperiate companionship. Hence the declaration, that enmity should be put, must have been to Satan the first notice of redemption. This lofty spirit must have calculated, that, if he could induce men, as he had induced angels, to join in rebellion, he should have them for allies in his every enterprise against heaven. There was nothing of enmity between himself and the spirits who had joined in the eftbrt to dethrone the Om- nipotent. At least whatever the feuds and jarrings which might disturb the rebels, they were linked, as with an iron band, in the one great ol)ject of opposing good. So that when he heard that there should be enmity between himself and the woman, he nnist have felt that some apparatus would be brought to bear upon man ; and that, though he had suc- ceeded in depraving human natuie, and thus assimilating it to his own, it should be renewed by some mysterious process, and Avrought up to the lost power of re- sisting its conqueror. And accordingly it has come to pass, that there is enmity on the earth be- tween man and Satan; but an enmity supematurally put, and not naturally entertained. Unless God pour his con- verting grace into the soul, there will be no attempt to oppose Satan, but we shall continue to the end of our days his wil- ling captives and seiTants. And there- fore it is God who puts the enmity. Introducing a new principle into the heart, he causes conflict where there had heretofore been peace, inclining and enabling man to rise against his tyrant. So that, in these first words of the pro- phecy, you have the clearest intimation that God designed to visit the depraved nature with a renovating energy. And now, whensoever you see an individual delivered from the love, and endowed with a hatred of sin, resisting those pas- sions which held naturally sway within his breast, and thus grappling with the fallen spirit which claims dominion upon earth, you are sui-\-eying the workings of a principle which is wholly from above ; and you are to consider that you have before you the fulfilment of the declaration, " I will put enmity between thee and the woman." 12 THE FIRST PROPHECY. We go on to observe that the enmity, being thus a superhuman thing, implant- ed by God and not generated by man, will not subsist universally, but only in particular cases. You will have seen, from our foresfoinff showings, that a man must be renewed in order to his fighting with Satan; so that God's putting the enmity is God's giving saving grace. The prophecy cannot be interpreted as declaring that the whole human race should be at war with the devil: the undoubted matter-of-fact being that only a portion of the race resumes its loyalty to Jehovali. And we are bound, there- fore, before proceeding further Avith our interpretation, to examine whether this limitation is marked out by the predic- tion — whether, that is, we might infer, from the terms of the prophecy, that the placed enmity would be partial, not uni- versal. Now we think that the expression, " Thy seed and her seed," shows at once that the enmity would be felt by only a part of mankind. The enmity is to subsist, not merely between Satan and the woman, but between his seed and her seed. But the seed of Satan can only be interpreted of wicked men. Thus Christ said to the Jews, "Ye are of your father the devil; and the lusts of your father ye will do." John, 8 : 44. Thus also, in expounding the parable of the tares and the wheat, he said, " The tares are the childi'en of the wicked one." Matt. 13 : 38. There is, probably, the same reference in the expression, "O generation of vipers." And, in like man- ner, you find St. John declaring, "He that committeth sin is of the devil." 1 John, 3 : 8. Thus, then, by the seed of Satan we understand wicked men, those who resist God's Spirit, and obstinately adhere to the sei-vice of the devil. And if we must interpret the seed of Satan of a portion of mankind, it is evident that the prophecy marks not out the en- mity as general,. but indicates just that limitation which has been supposed in our preceding remarks. But then the question occurs, how are we to interpret the woman and her seed 1 Such exjn'ession seems to denote the whole human race. What riglit have we to limit it to a part of that race 1 We reply, that it certainly does not denote the whole human race : for if you inter- pret it literally of Eve and her descend- ants, Adam, at least, is left out, who was neither the woman nor her seed. But without insisting on the objection under this form, fatal as it is to the jiro- posed interpretation, we should not be warranted, though we have no distinct account of the faith and repentance of Adam, in so explaining a passage as to exclude our common forefather from final salvation. You must see, that, if we take literally the woman and her seed, no enmity was put between Adam and Satan; for Adam was neither the woman nor the seed of the woman. And if Adam continued in fiiendship mth Satan, it must be certain that he perished in his sins : a conclusion to which we dare not advance without scriptural testimony the most clear and exjjlicit. We cannot, then, imderstand the wo- man and her seed, as Eve and her natu- ral descendants. We must rather be- lieve, that as the seed of the serjient is to be interpreted sj^iritually and sym- bolically, so also is the seed of the wo- man. And when you remember that Eve was a signal type of the church, there is an end of the difficulties by which we seem met. You know, from the statement of St. Paul to the Romans, that Adam was the figure of Chx-ist. Rom. 5:14. NoAv it was his standing to Eve in the very same relationship in which Christ stands to the church,which special- ly^ made Adam the figure of Christ. The side of Adam had been opened, when a deep sleep fell on him, in order that Eve might be formed, an extract from him- self. And thus, as Hooker saith, "God frameth the church out of the very flesh, the very wounded and bleeding side of the Son of Man. His body crucified, and his blood shed for the life of the world, are the true elements of that hea- venly being which maketh us such as himself is, of whom we come. For which cause the words of Adam may be fitly the words of Christ conceraing his church, ' Flesh of my flesh, and bone of my bones.' " We cannot go at length into the particulars of the typical resem- blance between Eve and the church. It is sufficient to obsen-e, that since Adam, the husband of Eve, was the figure of Christ, and since Christ is the husband of the church, it seems naturally to fol- low that Eve was the figure or type of the church And when we have estab tHE FIRST PROPHECY. 13 lished this typical character of Eve, it is easy to understand who are meant by tlie woman and her seed. The true church of God in every age — whether you con- sider it as represented by its head, which is Christ; \vhe.ther you survey it collec- tively as a body, or resolve it into its separate members — this ti-ue church of God must be regarded as denoted by the woman and her seed. And though you may think — for we wish, as we proceed, to anticipate objections — that, if Eve be the church, it is strange that her seed should be also the church, yet it is the common usage of Scriptui'e to represent the church as the mother, and every new conveit as a child. Thus, in addressing the Jewish church, and describing her glory and her greatness in the latter days, Isaiah saith, " Thy sons shall come from far, and thy daughters shall be nursed at thy side." And again — con- trasting the J ewish and Gentile churches — "More are the children of the deso- late than the children of the married wife, saith the Lord." So that although the church can be nothing more than the aggregate of individual believers, the in- spired writers commonly describe the church as a parent, and believers as the offspring; and in understanding, there- fore, the church and its members by the woman and her seed, we cannot be ad- vocating a forced interpretation. And now we have made a long ad- vance towards the thorough elucidation of the prophecy. We have shown you, that, inasmuch as the enmity is super- naturally put, it can only exist in a por- tion of mankind. We then endeavored to ascertain this portion : and we found that the true church of God, in every age, comprehends all those who war with Satan and his seed. So that the representation of the prediction — a re- presentation whose justice we have yet to examine — is simply that of a perpetu- al conflict, on this earth, between wicked angels and wicked men on the one side, and the church of God, or the company ' of true believers on the other; such con- flict, though occasioning partial injury to the church, always issuing in the dis- comfiture of the wicked. We now set ourselves to demonstrate the accuracy of this representation. We have already said that there are three points of view in which the church may be regarded. W^e may consider it, as represented by its head, which is Christ; secondly, collectively as a body ; thirdly, as resolved into its separate members. We shall endeavor to show you briefly, in each of these cases, the fidelity of the description, " It shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel." Now the enmity was never put in such overpowering measure, as when the man Christ Jesus was its residence. It was in Christ Jesus in one sense naturally, and in another supematurally. He was born pure, and with a native hatred of sin; but then he had been miraculously generated, in order that his nature might be thus hostile to evil. And never did there move the being on this earth who hated sin with as perfect a hatred, or who was as odious in return to all the emissaries of darkness, Tt was just the holiness of the Mediator which stirred lip against him all the passions of a pro- fligate world, and provoked that fury of assault which rushed in from the hosts of reprobate spirits. There was thrown a pei'petual reproach on a proud and sensual generation, by the spotlessness of that righteous individual, "who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth." 1 Pet. 2 : 22. And if he had not been so far separated, by the purities of life and conversation, from all others of his nature ; or if vice had received a somewhat less tremendous rebuke from the blamelessness of his every action; we may be sure that his might and be- nevolence would have gathered the na- tion to his discipleship, and that the multitude would never have been work- ed up to demand his crucifixion. The great secret of the opposition to Christ lay in the fact, that he was not such an one as ourselves. AVe are ac- customed to think that the lowliness of his condition, and the want of external majesty and pomp, moved the Jews to reject their Messiah : yet it is by no means clear that these were, in the main, the producing causes of rejection. If Christ came not with the purple and cir- cumstance of human sovereignty, he dis- played the possession of a supernatural power, which, even on the most carnal calculation, was more valuable, because more effective, than the stanchest appa- ratus of earthly supremacy. The pea- sant, who could work the miracles which Christ worked, would be admitted, on all hands, to have mightier engines at his 14 THE FIRST PROPHECY. disposal tliun the prince who is ch^thed with the ermine and folluwed by the war- riors. And it" tlie Jews h)oked tor a Mes- siah wlio woukl lead them to mastery over enemies, then, we contend, tliere was every thing in Christ to induce them to give liim their allegiance. The power which could vamjuish death by a word might cause hosts to fall, as fell the hosts of Sennacherib; and where then was the foe who could have resisted the leader ? AVe cannot, therefore, think that it was merely the absence of human pa- geantry which moved the great ones of Judea to throw scorn upon Jesus. It is true, they were expecting an earthly de- liverer. But Christ displayed precisely those powers, which wielded by Moses, had prevailed to deliver their nation from Egypt; and assuredly then, if that sti'ength dwelt in Jesus which had dis- comtited Pharaoh, and broken the thral- dom of centuries, it could not have been the proved incapacity of effecting tempo- ral deliverance which induced j)harisees and scribes to I'eject their Messiah. They could have tolerated the meanness of his parentage ; for that was more tlian com- pensated by the majesty of his power. They could have endured the lowliness of his appearance ; for they could set against it his evident communion with divinity. But the righteous fervor with which Christ denounced every abomination in the land; the untainted purity by which he shamed the " whlted sepulchres" who deceived the people by the appearance of sanctity; the rich loveliness of a cha- racter in which zeal for God's glory was unceasingly uppermost; the beautiful lustre which encompassed a being who could hate only one thing, but that one thing sin ; these wei-e the producing causes of bitter hostility ; and they who would have hailed the wonder-worker with the shout and the plaudit, had he £.ll()wod some license to the evil passions of our nature, gave him nothing but the Bneer and the execration, when he waged open war with lust and hy})ocrlsy. And thus it was that enmity, the fierc- est and most inveterate,was put between the seed of the woman and the seed of the serpent. The serpent himself came to the assistance of his seed; evil angels conspired with evil Tnen ; and the wliole energies of apostacy gathered themselves to the effort of destniying the chamjn- on of God and of truth. Yea, and for a while success seemed to attend the en- deavor. There was a bruising of the heel of the seed of the woman. "He came unto his own, and his own received him not." John, 1: 11. Charged only with an embassage of mercy; sent by the Father — not to condemn the workl, though rebellion had overspread its jiro- vinces, and there was done the foulest despite to God, in its c'e^ section, and by its every tenant — but that the world through him might have life ; he was, nevertheless, scorned as a deceiver, and hunted down as a malefactor. And if it were a bruising of the heel, that he should be " a man of sorrows and acquainted with grief," Isaiah, 53: 3; that a nation should despise him, and fiiends deny and forsake and betray him; that he should be buffeted with temptation, convulsed by agony, lacerated by stripes, pierced by nails, crowned with thorns ; then was the heel of the Redeemer bruised by Satan, for to all this injury the fallen anjjel institrated and nei'ved his seed. But though the heel was bruised, this was the whole extent of effected damage. There was no real advantage gained over the Mediator : on the contrary, whilst Sa tail was in the act of bruising Christ's heel, Christ was in the act of bruising Satan's head. The Savior, indeed, ex- posed himself to every kind of insult and wrong. Whilst enduring " the contradic- tion of sinners against himself," Heb. 12 : 3, it is not to be denied that a strange re- sult was brought round by the machina- tions of the evil ones; forsuffering,which is the attendant on sinfulness, was made to empty all its pangs into the bosom of innocence. And seeing that his holiness should have exempted his humanity from all klnsmanship with sorrow and an- guish, we are free to allow that the heel was bruised, when pain found entrance into this humanity, and grief, heavier than had oppressed any being of our race, weighed doAvn his over-wrouglit sj)lrlt. But, then, there was not an iota of his sutrcrings which went not towards liqui- dating the vast debt which man owed to God, and which, therefore, contributed not to our redemption from bondage. There was not a pang by which the Me- diator was torn, and not a grief by which his soul was disquieted, which helped not on the achievement of human deliv- erance, and which, therefore, dealt not o!it a blow to the despotism of Satan THE FIRST PROPHECY. 15 So that, from the beginning, the bruising of Christ's heel was the bruising of Sa- tan's head. In prevaiUng, so far as he did prevail, against Christ, Satan was only eftecting his own discomfiture and downfall. He touched the heel, he could not touch the head of the Mediator. If he could have seduced him into the com- mission of evil; if he could have pro- faned, by a solitary thouglit, the sanctu- ary of his soul ; then it would have been the head which lie had bruised; and rising triumphant over man's surety, he would have shouted, "Victory!" and this creation have become for ever his own. But whilst he could only cause pain, and not pollution ; whilst he could dislocate by agony, but not defile by im- purity; he reached indeed the heel, but came not near the head; and, making the Savior's life-time one dark series of afflictions, weakened, at every step, his own hold upon humanity. And when, at last, he so bruised the heel as to nail Christ to the cross, amid the loathino^s and revilino^s of the multi- tude, then it was that his own head was bruised, even to the being crushed. "Through death," we are told, "Clirist Jesus destroyed him tliat had the power of death, that is, the devil." Heb. 2 : 14. He fell indeed; and evil angels, and evil men, mig^ht have thoufjht him for ever de- feated. But in grasping this mighty prey, death paralyzed itself; in breaking down the temple, Satan demolished his own throne. It was, as ye all know, by dy- ing, that Christ finished the achievement which, from all eternity, he had cove- nanted to undertake. By dying, he rein- stated fallen man in the position from which he had been hurled. Death came against the Mediator; but, in submit- ting to it, Christ, if we may use such irftage, seized on the destroyer, and, waving the skeleton-form as a sceptre over this creation, broke the spell of a thousand generations, dashing away the chains, and opening the graves, of an oppressed and rifled population. And when he had died, and descended into the grave, and returned without seeing corruption, then was it made possible that every child of Adam might be eman- cipated from the dominion of evil ; and, in place of the wo and the shame which transgression had won as the heritage of man, there was the beautiful brightness of a purchased immortality wooing the acceptance of the sons and daughters of our race. The strong mar armed had kept his goods in peace; and Satan, having seduced men to be his compan- ions in rebellion, might have felt secure of having them as his companions in tor- ment. But the stronger than he drew nigh, and, measuring weapons with him in the garden and on the cross, received wounds which were but trophies of vic- tory, and dealt wounds which annihilated power. And when, bruised indeed, yet only marked with honorable scars which told out bis triumph to the loftiest orders of intelligent being, the Redeemer of mankind soared on high, and sent pro- clamation through the universe, that death was abolished, and the ruined re- deemed, and the gates of heaven thrown open to the rebel and the outcast, was there not an accomplishment, the most literal and the most energetic, of that prediction which declared to Satan con- cerning the seed of the woman, " it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel]" Such is the first and great fulfilment of the prophecy. The church, repre- sented by its head who was specially the seed of the woman, overthrew the devil in one decisive and desperate strug- gle, and, though not itself unwounded, received no blow which rebounded not to the crushing its opponent. We proceed, secondly, to consider the church collectively as a body. We need scarcely observe that, from the first, the risfhteous anion "■st men have been ob- jects of the combined assault of their evil fellows and evil angels. The enmity has been put, and strikingly developed. On the one hand, it has been the endea- vor of the church to vindicate God's honor, and aiTest the workings of wick- edness: on the other, it has been the ef- fort of the serpent and his seed to sweep fi-om the earth these upholders of piety. And though the promise has all along been verified, that the gates of hell shall not prevail against the church, it cannot be denied that a great measure of suc- cess has attended the strivings of tlie ad- versary. If you only call to mind what fierce persecution has rushed against the righteous ; how by one engine or anoth- er there has been, oftentimes, almost a thorough extinction of the very name of Christianity; and how, when outward- ly there has been peace, tares, sown by 16 THE FIRST PROPHECY. the enemy, have sent up a harvest of perilous heresies; you cannot withhold your acknowledgment that Satan has bruised the heel of the church. But he aas done nothing more. If he have he^^^l down tliousands hy the sword, and con- sumed thousands at the stake, thousands have sprung forward to fill up the breach ; and if he have succeeded in pouring forth a flood of pestilential doctrine, there have arisen stanch advocates of truth who have stemmed the toiTent, and snatched the articles of faith, uninjured, from the deluge. There has never been the time when God has been left with- out a watness ujion earth. And though the church has often been sickly and weak; though the best blood has been drained from her veins, and a languor, like that of moral palsy, has settled on her limbs; still life hath never been wholly extinguished ; but, after a while, the sinkinsT euerg:ics have been marvel- lously recruited, and the worn and wast- ed body has risen up more athletic than before, and disj^layed to the nations all the vigor of renovated youth. So that only the heel has been bruised. And since, up to the second advent of the Lord, the church shall be battered with heresy, and persecution, and infi- delity, we look not, under the present dispensation, for discontinuance of this bruising of the heel. Yet, while Satan is bruising the church's heel, the church, by God's hel25, is bruising Satan's head. The church may be compelled to pro- phesy in sackcloth. Affliction may be her portion, as it was that of her glorified head. But the church is, throughout, God's witness upon earth. The claurch is God's instrument for carrying on those purposes Avhich shall terminate in the final setting up of the Mediator's king- dom. And, oh, there is not won over a single soul to Christ, and the Gospel message makes not its way to a single heart, without an attendant effect as of a stamping on the head of the tempter: for a captive is delivered from the ojs- pressor, and to deliver the slave is to defeat the tyrant. Thus the seed of the woman is continually bruising the head of the serpent. And whensoever the church, as an engine in God's hands, makes a successful stand for piety and trutli ; whensoever, sending out her mis- sionaries to the broad waste of heathen- ism, she demolishes an altar of supersti- tion, and teaches the pagan to cast his idols to the mole and the bat; or when- soever, assaulting mere nominal Chris- tianity, she fastens men to practice as the alone test of profession; then does she strike a blow which is felt at the veiy centre of the kingdom of darkness, and then is she experiencing a partial fulfil- ment of the promise, " God shall bruise Satan under your feet shortly." Rom. 16: 20. And when the fierce and on-going con- flict shall be brought to a close; when this burdened creation shall have shakeii off the slaves and the objects of concu- piscence, and the church of the living God shall reign, with its head, over the tribes and provinces of an evangelized earth; then in the completeness of the triumph of righteousness shall be the completeness of the serpent's discomfi- ture. And as the angel and the archan- gel contrast the slight injury which Sa- tan could ever cause to the church, with that overwhelming ruin ^vhich the church has, at last, hurled douii upon Satan; as they compare the brief struggle and the everlasting glory of the one, with the shadowy success and the never-ending torments of the other; will they not de- cide, and tell out their decision in lan- guage of rapture and admiration, that, if ever prediction were fulfilled to the very letter, it is that which, addressed to the serpent, and describing the chui-ch as the seed of the woman, declared, "it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heell" Such is the second fulfilment of the prophecy of our text. The church, con- sidered collectively as a body, is so as- saulted by the serpent and his seed that its heel is bruised : but even now it of- fers such resistance to evil, and hereafter it shall triumph so signally over every 02-)ponent, that the prediction, "it shall bruise thy head," must be received as destined to a literal accomplishment. We have yet to notice the third fulfil- ment. We may resolve the church into its separate members, and, taking each individual believer as the seed of the woman, show you how our text is real- ized in his experience. Now if there be enmity between the serpent and the church generally, of course there is also between the serpent and each member of that church. We have already giv«n it as the description THE FIRST PROPHECY. 17 of a converted man, that he has been su- pernaturally excited to a war with the devil. Whilst left in the darkness and alienation of nature, he submits willing- ly to the dominion of evil : evil is his ele- ment, and he neither strives nor wishes for emancipation. But when the grace of God is introduced into his heart, he will discern quickly the danger and hate- fulness of sin, and will yield himself, in a higher strength than his own, to the work of resisting the serpent. Thus en- mity is put between tlie believer and the serpent and his seed. Let a man give himself to the concerns of eternity; let him, in good earnest, set about the business of the soul's salvation; and he will, assui'edly, draw upon himself the dislike and opposition of a whole circle of worldly acquaintance, so that his over- preclseness and austerity will become subject of ridicule in his village or neigh- borhood. We quite mistake the nature both of Christianity and of man, if we suppose that opposition to religion can be limited to an age or a country. Per- secution, in its most teriible forms, is only the development of a principle which must unavoidably exist until either Christianity or human nature be altered. There is a necessary repugnance be- tween Christianity and human nature. The two cannot be amalgamated : one must be changed before it will combine with the other. And we fear that this is, in a degree, an overlooked truth, and that men are disposed t6 assign persecu- tion to local or temporary causes. But we wish you to be clear on the fact, that "the offence of the cross," Gal. 5: 11, has not ceased, and cannot cease. We readily allow that the form, under which the hatred manifests itself, will be sensi- bly affected by the civilization and intel- ligence of the age. In days of an imper- fect refinement and a scanty literature, you will find this hatred uiisheathing the sword, and lighting the pile : but when human society is at a high point of po- lish and knowledge, and the principles of religious toleration are well undci'stood, there is, perhaps, comparatively, small likelihood that savage violence will be the engine employed against godliness. Y^et there are a hundred batteries which may and will be opened upon the righ- teous. The follower of Christ must cal- culate on many sneers, and much revil- ing. He must look to meet often with coldness and contempt, harder of endu- rance than many forms of martyrdom; for the courage which could march to the stake may be daunted by a laugh. And, frequently, the opposition assumes a more decided shape. The parent will act harshly towards the child ; the superior withdraw his countenance fiom the de pendent; and all because of a giving heed to the directions of Scripture. Re ligion, as though it were rebellion, alien ates the affections, and alters the wills, of fathers and guardians. So that we tell an individual that he blinds himself to plain matters of fact, if he espouse the opinion that the apostle's words applied only to the first ages of Christianity, " all that will live godly in Christ Jesus shall suffer persecution." 2 Tim. 3 : 12. To "live godly in Christ Jesus" is to havt enmity put between yourselves and th< seed of the serpent; and you maybe as sured, that, unless this enmity be merelj nominal on your side, it will manifest it self by acts on the other. Thus the prophecy of our text an nounces, what has been verified by the history of all ages, that no man can serve God without uniting against himself evil men and evil angels. Evil angels will assault him, alarmed that their prey is escaping ft-om their gi-asp. Evil men, rebuked by his example, will become agents of the serpent, and strive to wrench him from his riohteousness. But v.'hat, after all, is the amount of injury which the serpent and his seed can cause to God's children ] Is it not a truth, which can only then be denied when you have cashiered the authority of every page of the Bible, that he who believes upon Christ, and who, therefore, has been adopted through faith into G od's family, is certain to be made more than conqueror, and to trample under foot every enemy of salvation 1 The conflict between a believer and his foes may be long and painful. The Christian may be often forced to exclaim with St. Paul, " O wretched man that I am. who shall deliver me from the body of this death 1 " Rom. 7: 24. Engaged with the triple band of the world, the flesh, and the de- vil, he will experience many partial de- feats, and surprised off his guard, or wearied out with watchings, will yield to temptation, and so fall into sin. But it is certain, certain as that God is om- nipotent and faithful, that the once justi- 3 16 THE FIRST PROPHECY. fied man shall be enabled to persevere to the end ; to persevere, not in an idle de- pendence on privileges, but in a struggle wliicli, if" for iin instant interrupted, is sure to be vehemently renewed. And, therefoi'e, tlic bruising of the heel is the sum total of the mischief. Thus much, undoubtedly, the serpent can effect. He can harass with temptation, and occa- eionally prevail. But he cannot undo the radical work of conversion. He cannot eject the pinncijjle of grace; and he can- not, therefore, bring back the man into the condition of his slave or his subject. Thus he cannot wound the head, of the new man. He may diminish his com- forts. He may impede his growth in ho- liness. He may inject doubts and sus- picions, and. thus keep him disquieted, when, if he would live up to his privi- leges, he might rejoice and be peaceful. But all this — and we show you here the full sweep of the serpent's power — still leaves the man a believer; and, there- fore, all this, though it bruise the heel, toucLics not the head. And though the believer, like the un- believer, must submit to the power of death, and tread the dark valley of that curse which still rests on our nature, is there experienced more than a bruising of the heel in the undergoing this disso- lution of humanity ] It is an injury — for we go not with those who would idolize, or soften down, death — that the soul must be detached from the body, and nt out, a widowed thing, on the broad journeyings of eternity. It is an injury, that this curious framework of matter, as much redeemed by Christ as the giant- guest which it encases, must be taken down, joint by joint, and rafter by rafter, and, resolved into its original elements, lose every trace of having been human. But what, we again say, is the extent of this injury"? The foot of the destroyer shall be set upon the body ; and he shall stani]) till he have ground it into powder, and dispersed it to the winds. But he caimot annihilate a lonely particle. He can put no arx'est on that germinating process which shall yet cause the valleys and mountains of this globe to stand thick with a harvest of flesh. He cannot hinder my resun-ection. And when the soul, over which he hulh had no power, rushes into the body which he shall be forced to resign, and the cliild of God stands forth a man, yet immortal, com- pound of flesh and spirit, but each pure, each indestructible; — oh, though Satan may have battered at his peace during a long earthly pilgrimage; though he may have marred his happiness by successful temptation ; though he may have detain- ed for centuries his body in coiTuption; will not the inflicted injury appclar to have been so trivial and insignificant, that a bruising of the heel, in place of falling short of the matter-of-fact, shall itself seem almost an over^^Tought description? And, all the while, though Satan can only bruise the believer's heel, the be- liever is bruising Satan's head. If the believer be one who fights the serjient, and finally conquers, by that final con- quest the serpent's head is bruised. If he be naturally the slave of the serpent ; if he rebel against the tyrant, throw off his chains, and vanquish him, fighting inch by inch the ground to freedom and glory; then he bruises the serpent's head. If two beings are antagonists, he who decisively overcomes bruises the head of his opponent. But the believer and the serpent are antagonists. The believer gains completely the mastery over the serpent. And, therefoi-e, the result of the contest is the fulfilment of the prediction that the seed of the wo- man shall bruise the head of the serpent. Oh, if, as we well know, the repentance of a single sinner send a new and exqui- site delight down the ranks of the hosts of heaven, and cause the sweeping of a rich and glorious anthem from the count- less harps of the sky, can we doubt that the same event spreads consternation through the legions of fallen spirits, and strikes, like a death-blow, on their haughty and malignant leader? Ay, and we believe that never is Satan so taught his subjugated estate, as when a soul, which he had counted as his own, escapes "as a 'bird out of the snare of the fowlers," Psalm 124: 7, and seeks and finds ]irotection in Jesus. I£ it be then that Christ sees "of the travail of his soul," Isaiah, 53: 11, it must be ihcu that the serpent tastes all the bitterness of defeat. And when the warfare is over, and the spirit, which he hath longed to destroy, soars away, convoyed by the angels which wait on the heirs of salva- tion, must it not be then that the con- sciousness of lost masteiy seizes, with crushing force, on the proud foe of our race; and does not that fierce cry of THE FIRST PROPHECY. 19 disappointment which seems to follow the ascending soul, causing her to feel herself only "scarcely saved," 1 Pet. 4: 18, testify that, in thus winning a heritage of glory, the believer hath bruised the head of the serpent? We shall not examine fuithef this third fululmcnt of the prophecy of our text. But we think that when you con- trast the slight injury which Satan, at the worst, can cause to a believer, with the mighty blow which the deliverance of a believer deals out to Satan; the nothingness, at last, of the harm done to God's people, with that fearful dis- comfiture which their individual i-(?scue fastens on the devil; you will confess, that, considering the church as resolved into its separate members, just as when you survey it collectively as a body, or as represented by its head, there is a literal accomplishment of this predic- tion to the serpent conccraing the seed of the woman, "it shall bruise thy head, and thou shalt bruise his heel." We have thus, as we trust, shown you that the prophecy of our text extends itself over the whole surface of time, so that, from the fall of Adam, it has been receiving accomplishment, and will con- tinue being fulfilled until "death and hell are cast into the lake of fire." Rev. 20 : 14. It was a wonderful announce- ment, and, if even but imperfectly un- derstood, must have confounaed the serpent, and cheered Adam and Eve. Dust shalt thou eat, foe of humankind, when this long oppressed creation is delivered from thy despotism. As though to mark to us that there shall be no suspension of the doom of our destroyer, whilst this earth rejoices in the restitution of all things, Isaiah, in de- scribing millennial harmony, still leaves the serpent under the sentence of our text. "The wolf and the lamb shall feed together; and the lion shall eat Btraw like the bullock; and dust shall he tlie serpent's meat." Isaiah, 65 : 25. There comes a day of deliverance to every other creature, but none to the serpent. Oh, mysterious dealing of our God! that for fallen ango-ls there hath been no atonement, for fallen men a full, perfect, and sufficient. They were far nobler than we, of a loftier intelligence and more splendid endowment; yet ("how unsearchable are his judg- ments") we are taken and they are left. "For verily he taketh not hold of angels, but of the seed of Abrnham he taketh hold." Hebrews, 2 : 16, margi- nal reading. And shall we, thus singled out and made objects of mai-vellous mercy, re- fuse to be delivered, and take our por- tion with those who are both fallen and unredeemed] Shall we eat the dust, when we may efCt of " the bread which comet hclown from heaven?" John, 6: 50. Covetous man ! thy money is the dust; thou art eating the serpent's meat. Sensual man ! thy gratifications are of the dust ; thou art eating the serpent's meat. Ambitious man ! thine honors are of the dust ; thou art eatina the serpent's meat. O God, put enmity between us and the serpent. Will ye, every one of you, use that short prayer ere ye lie down to . rest this night, O God, put enmity between us and the serpent % If ye are not at enmity, his folds are round your limbs. If ye are not at enmity, his sting is at your heart. But if ye will, henceforward, count him a foe, oppose him in God's strength, and attack him with the " sword of the Spirit;" Eph. 6 : 17; then, though ye may have your seasons of disaster and depression, the j^romise stands sure that ye shall finally overcome; and it shall be proved by each one in this assembly, that, though the serpent may bruise the heel of the seed of the woman, yet, at last, the seed of the woman always bruises the head of the serpent. SERMON II. CHRIST THE MINISTER OF THE CHURCH. "A minister of the sanctuary, and of the true tabernacle which the Lord pitched, and not man. — Hebrews vii : 15. The discourse of the Apostle here turns on Jesus, the high priest of our profession, whose superiority to Aaron and his descendants he had estabhshed by most powerful reasoning. In the verse preceding our text he takes a summary of the results of his argu- ment, deciding that we have such an high priest as became us, and who had passed from the scene of earthly minis- trations to "the throne of the majesty in the heavens." He then, in the words upon which we are to meditate, gives a description of this high priest as at pre- sent discharging sacerdotal functions. He calls him " a minister of the sanc- tuary, or (according to the marginal reading) of holy things, and of the true tabernacle which the Lord 2)itchod, and not man." We think it needful, if we would enter into the meaning of this passage, that we confine it to what Christ is, and attempt not to extend it to what Christ was. If you examine the verses which follow, you will be quite satisfied that St. Paul had in view those portions of the mediatorial Avork Avliich are yet being executed, and not those which were completed upon earth. He expressly declares that if the Redeem- er were yet resident amongst men, he would not be invested with the priestly office — thus intimating, and that not ob- scurely, that the priesthood now enact- ed in heaven was tliat on which he wish- ed to centre allontion. We know indeed that parts of the orlestly office, most stupendous and mjst important, were discharged by Jesus Avliilst sojourning on earth. Then it was that, uniting mysteriously in his person the offerer and the victim, he presented himself, a whole burnt sacri- fice, to God, and took away, by his one oblation, the sin of an overburdened world. But if you attend closely to the reasoning of St. Paul, you will observe that he considers Christ's oblation of himself as a preparation for the priestly office, rather than as an act of that of- fice. He argues, in the thii-d verse, that since " every high ])ricst is ordained to offer gifts and sacrifices," there was a "necessity that this man have some- what also to offer," And l)y then speak- ing of Christ's having obtained " a more excellent ministry," he plainly implies that what he offers as high priest is of- fered in heaven, and nnist, therefore, have been rather ])rocured, than pre- sented, by the sacrifice of himself We are anxious that you should clear- ly perceive — as we are sure you must from the study of the context — that Christ in heaven, and not Christ on earth, is sketched out by the words which we are now to examine. The right interpretation of the description will depend greatly on our ascertaining the scene of ministrations. And we shall not hesitate, throughout the whole of our discourse, to consider the apos- tle as referring to wliat Christ vow ])er- forms on our behalf; taking no otlier account of what he did in his humilia- tion than as it stands associated with what he does in his exaltation. You will observe, at once, that the difficulty of our text lies in the asser- tion, that Christ is " a minister of the true tahernacle, which the Lord pitched, and not man." Our main business, aa CHRIST THE MINISTER OP THE CHURCH. 21 expounders of Scripture, is with the de- termining what this " true tabernacle " is. For, though we think it ascertain- ed that heaven is tlie scene of Christ's priestly ministrations, this does not de- fine what the tabernacle is wherein he ministers. Now tliere can be but little question, that, in another passage of this Epistle to the Hebrews, the humanity of the Son of God is described as " a taberna- cle, not made with hands." The verse occurs in the ninth chapter, in which St. Paul shows the temporary character of -the Jewish tabernacle, every thing about it having been simply " a figure for the time then present." Advancing to the contrast of what was enduring with what was transient, he declares that Christ had come, "an high priest of good things to come, by a greater and more perfect tabernacle, not made with hands, that is to say, not of this building." Heb. 9 : 11. It scarcely ad- mits of debate that the body of the Re- deemer, produced as it was by a super- natural operation, constituted this ta- bernacle in which he came down to earth. And we are rightly anxious to uphold this, which seems the legitimate interpretation, because heretics, who would bring down the Savior to a level with ourselves, find the gi'eatest difli- culty in getting rid of this miraculous conception, and are most perplexed by any passage which speaks of Christ as superhumanly generated. It is a com- mon taunt with the Socinian, that the apostles seem to have known nothing of this miraculous conception, and that a truth of such importance, if well as- certained, would not have been omitted in their discussions with unbelievers. We might, if it consisted with our sub- ject, advance many reasons to prove it most improbable, that, either in argu- ing with gainsayers, or in building up believers, the first preachers of Chris- tianity would make frequent use of the mystery of Christ's generation. But, at all events, we contend that one de- cisive mention is of the same worth as many, and that a single instance of apostolic recognition of the fact, suffi- ces for the oveithrow of the heretical objection. And, therefore, we would battle strenuously for the interpreta- tion of the passage to wliich we have refciTed, defining the humanity of the Savior, as a " Tabernacle not made with hands, that is to say, not of this build- ing." And if, without any overstrain- ing of the text, it should appear that " the true tabernacle," whereof Christ is the minister, may also be exjiounded of his spotless humanity, we should gladly adopt the interpretation as sus- taining us in our contest with impugn- ers of his divinity. There is, at first sight, so much re- semblance betv.-een the passages, that we are naturally inclined to claim for them a sameness of meaning. In the one, the tabernacle is described as that " which the Lord pitched and not man;" in the other, as " not made with hands," that is to say, " not of this building." It is scarcely possible that the coinci- dence could be more literal; and the inference seems obvious, that, the latter ttibemacle being Christ's humanity, so also must be the foi-mer. Yet a little reflection will suggest that, however correct the expression, that Christ's humanity was the tabernacle by, or in, which he came, there would be much of harshness in the figure, that this hu- manity is the tabernacle of which he is the minister. Without doubt, it is in his human natui'e that the Son of God officiates above. He carried up into glory the vehicle of his sufferings, and made it partaker of his triumphs. And our grand comfort in the priesthood of Jesus results from the fact that he min- isters as a man; nothing else affording ground of assurance that " we have not an high priest which cannot be touched with the feeling of our infirmities." Heb. 4 : 15. But whilst certain, and re- joicing in the certainty, that our inter- cessor pleads in the humanity, which, undefiled by either actual or original sin, qualified him to receive the out- pourings of wrath, we could not, with any accuracy, say that he is the minis- ter of this humanity. It is clear that such expression must define, in some way, the place of ministration. And since humanity was essential to the constitution of Christ's person, we see not how it could be the temple of which he was appointed the minister. At least we must allow, that, in interpreting our text of the human nature of the Son of God, we should lie open to the charge of advocating an unnatural meaning, and of being so bent on upholding a 22 CHRIST THE MINISTER OF THE CHURCH. favorite hj'^^otliesis, as not to be over- scrupulous as to means of support. We dismiss, therefore, as untenable, the opinion which our wishes would have led us to espouse, and must seek elsewhere than in the humanity o-f Christ, for " the true tabernacle which the Lord pitched, and not man." The most correct and simple idea appears to be, that, inasmuch as Chiist is the high priest of all who believe upon his name, and inasmuch as believers make up his church, the whole company of the faith- ilil constitute that tabernacle of which he is lieie asserted the minister. If we adopt this interpretation, we may trace a fitness and accuracy of exjjression which can scarcely fail to assure us of its justice. The Jewish tabernacle, un- questionably typical of the christian church, consisted of the outer part and the inner ; the one open to the minis- trations of inferior priests, the other to those of the high priest alone. Thus the church, always one body, whatever the dispersion of its members, is partly upon earth where Christ's ambassadors officiate, partly in heaven where Christ himself is present. St. Paul, referring to this church as a household, describes Christ Jesus as him " of whom the whole family in heaven and earth is named ; " Eph. 3 : 15 ; intimating that it was no interference with the unity of this family, that some of its mem- bers resided above, whilst others re- mained, as warriors and sufferers, be- low. So that, in considering Christ's church as the tabernacle with its holy place, and its holy of holies — the first on earth, the second in heaven — we ad- here most rigidly to the type, and, at the same time, preserve harmony with other representations of Scz-ipture. And when you remember that Christ is continually described as dwelling in his people, and that believers are repre- sented as " buildcd together for an habi- tation of God through the Spirit," Ejih. 2 : 22, there will seem to be none of that objection against this interpreta- tion which we felt constrained to urge against the former. If it be common to represent believers, whether singly or collectively, as the temple of God ; and if, at the same time, Christ Jesus, as the high priest of our profession, pre- side at the altar, and hold the censor of this temple; then we suppose nothing far-fetched, Ave only keep np the image- ry of Scripture, when we take the church as that " true tabernacle " whereof the Redeemer is the minister. And when we yet further call to mind that to God alone is the conversion of man ascribed throughout Scripture, we see, at once, the truth of the account given of this tabernacle, that the Lord pitched it and not man. Man reared the Jewish tabernacle, and man builded the Jewish temple. But the spiritual sanctuary, of which these were but types and figures, could be constructed by no human architect. A finite power is inadequate to the fashioning and col- lecting living stones, and to the weav- ing the drapery of self-denial and obe- dience. We refer ,^ undividcdly, to Dei ty the constniction of this true taber- nacle, the church. Had there been no mediatorial interference, the spiritual temple could never have been erected. In the work and person of Christ were laid the foundation of this temple. " Behold, saith God, I lay in Zion for a foundation a stone, a tried stone." Isa. 28 : 16. And on the stone thus laid there would have arisen no superstruc- ture, had not the finished work of re- demption been savingly applied, by God's Spirit, to man's conscience. Though redeemed, not a solitary indi- vidual would go on to be saved, unless God recreated him after his own like- ness. So that, whatever the bi-eadth which we give to the exjiression, it must hold good of Christ's church, that the Lord pitched it and not man. And it is not, more true of Christ's humanity, mysteriously and supcmaturally pro- duced, that it was a tabernacle which Deity reared, than of the company oi believers, born again of the Spirit and renewed after God's image, that they constitute a sanctuary which shows a nobler than mortal workmanship. Now, upon the grounds thus bi'iefly adduced, we shall consider, th]X)ugh the remainder of our discoui'se, that " the true tabernacle," whereof Christ is the ininister, denotes the whole church, whether in earth or heaven, of the re- deemed, made one by union, through faith, with the Redeemer. But before considex'ing, at greater length, the senses in which Christ is the minister of this tabernacle, we Avould remark on his being styled " INIinister," and not CHRIST THE MINISTER OF TIIF. CHURCH. 'High Priest." We shall finrl, in the sequel, that this change of title is too important to be overlooked, and that we must give it our attention, if we would bring out the full meaning of the passage. The word translated " minis- ter," denotes properly any public ser- vant, whatever the duties committed to his care. His office, or his ministry, is any business undertaken for the sake of the commonwealth. Hence, in the New Testament, the word rendered " ministi-y " is transfeiTcd to the public office of the Levites and Priests, and afterwards to the sacerdotal office of Christ. We keep the Greek word in our own lanfTuas^e, but confine it to the business of the sanctuary, descnbmg as "a Liturgy" a formulary of public devotions. When Christ, therefore, is called the minister of the tabernacle, a broader office seems assigned him than when styled the High Priest. As the High Priest of his church, he is alone ; the functions of the office being such as himself only can discharge. But as the minister of his church, he is indeed supreme, but not alone ; the same title being given to his ambassadors ; as when St. Paul describes himself as the " minister of Jesus Christ to the Gen- tiles, ministering the Gospel of God." Rom. 15 : 16. You will perceive, at once, fi'om this statement, that our text ought not to be expounded as though "Minister" and "High Priest " were identical titles. No force is then attach- ed to a word, of whose application to Christ this verse is the solitary instance. Indeed we are persuaded that much of the power and beauty of the passage lies in the circumstance, that Christ is called "the Minister of the true taber- nacle," and not the Hio^h Priest. If " the true tabernacle " be, as we seem to have ascertained, the whole church of the redeemed, that part of the church which is already in glory appears to have no need of Christ as a priest ; and we may search in vain for the senses which the passage would bear, when apjilied to this part. But if Christ's pricntly func- tions, properly so called, relate not to the church in heaven, it is altogether possible that his ministerial may; so that there is, perhaps, a propriety in calling him the minister of that church, which there would not be in calling him the High Priest. We shall proceed, therefore, to ex- plain our text on the two assumptions, for each of which we have shown you a reason. We assume, in the first place, that " the true tabernacle " is the col- lective church of the redeemed, whe- ther in earth or heaven : in the second, that the office of minister, though in- cluding that of high priest, has duties attached to it which belong specially to itself These points, you observe, we assume, or take for granted, through the remainder of our discourse ; and we wish them, therefore, borne in mind, as ascertained truths. In strict conformity with these as- sumptions, we shall now speak to you, in the first place, of Christ as ministei of the church on earth ; in the second place, of Christ as minister of the church in heaven. Now it is of first-rate importance that we consider Christ as withdrawn only from the eye of sense, and, therefore, present as truly, after a spiritual man- ner, with his church, as when, in the day of humiliation, he moved visibly upon earth. The lapse of time has brought no interruption of his parting promise to the apostles, " Lo, I am with you alway, even unto the end of the world." Matt. 28 : 20. He has provid- ed, by keeping up a succession of men who derive authority, in unbroken se- ries, from the first teachers of the faith, for the continued preaching of his word, and administration of his sacraments. And thus he hath been, all along, the great minister of his church : delegat- ing, indeed, power to inferior ministers who " have the treasure in earthen ves- sels ; " 2 Cor. 4 : 7 ; but superintending their appointments as the universal bishop, and evangelizing, so to speak, his vast diocese, through their instru- mentality. We contend that you have no true idea of a church, unless you thus recognize in its ordinances, not merely the institution of Christ, but his actual and energizing presence. You have wo right, when you sit downi in the sanc- tuary, to regard the individual who ad- dresses you as a mei-e public s^jeaker, delivering an harangue which has pre- cisely so much worth as it may draw from its logic and its language. He is an ambassador from the great Head of the church, and derives an authority from this' Head, which is quite iiide- S4 CHRIST THE MINISTER OF THE CHURCH. pendent of his own worthiness. If Christ remain always the minister of his church, Christ is to be looked at through his ministering sen'ant, whoever shall visibly officiate. And though there be a gi-eat deal preached in which you cannot recognize the voice of the Sa- vior; and though the sacraments be administered by hands which seem im- pure enough to sully their sanctity ; yet do we venture to assert, that no man, who keeps Christ steadfastly in view as the " minister of the true ta- bernacle," will ever fail to derive profit from a sermon, and strength from a communion. The grand evil is that men ordinarily lose the chief minister in the inferior, and determine beforehand that they cannot be advantaged, unless the inferior be modelled exactly to their own pattern. They regard the speaker simply as a man, and not at all as a messenger. Yet the ordained preacher is a messenger, a messenger from the God of the whole earth. His mental capacity may be weak — that is nothing. His speech may be contemptible — that is nothing. His knowledge may be cir- cumscribed — we say not that is no- thing. But we say that, whatever the man's qualifications, he should rest upon his office. And we hold it the business of a congregation, if they hope to find profit in the public duties of the Sab- bath, to cast away those personal con- siderations which may have to do with the officiating individual, and to fix steadfastly their thoughts on the office itself. Whoever preaches, a congrega- tion would be profited, if they sat dowia in the temper of Cornelius and his fi-iends : "now therefore are we all liere present before God, to hear all things that are commanded thee of God." Acts, 10 : 3.3. But if a sermon differ from what a Gospel sermon should be, men will de- termine that Christ could have had no- thing to do with its delivery. Now this, we assert, is nothing less than the de- posing Christ from the ministry assign- ed him by our text. We are far enough from declaring that the chief minister puts the false words into the mouth of the inferior. But we are certain, as upon a truth which to deny is to assault the foundations of Christianity, that the chief minister is so mindful of his office that every man, who listens in faith, expecting a message from abcve, shall be addressed through the mouth, ay, even through the mistakes and errors, of the inferior. And in upholding this truth, a truth attested by the experience of numbers, we pimply contend for the accuracy of that description of Chi-ist which is under review. If, wheresoever the minister is himself deficient and un- taught, so that his sermons exhibit a wrong system of doctrine, you will not allow that Christ's church may be pro- fited by the ordinance of preaching; you clearly argue that the Redeemer has given up his office, and that he can no longer be styled the " minister of the true tabernacle." There is no mid- dle course between denying that Christ is the minister, and allowing that, what- ever the faulty statements of his ordain- ed servant, no soul, which is hearkening in faith for a word of counsel or com- fort, shall find the ordinance woithless and be sent away empty. And from this we obtain our first il- lustration of our text. We behold the true followers of Christ enabled to find food in pastures which seem barren, and water where the fountains are dry. They obtain indeed the most copious supplies — though, perhaps, even this will not always hold good — when the sermons breathe nothing but truth, and the sacraments are administered by men of tried piety and faith. But when every thing seems against them, so that, on a carnal calculation, you would sujd- pose the services of the church stripped of all efficacy, then, by acting faith on the head of the ministry, they are in- structed and nourished; though, in the main, the given lesson be falsehood, and the proffered sustenance little bet- ter than poison. And if Christ be thus aUvays sending messages to those who listen for his voice ; if he so take upon himself the office of preacher as to con- strain even the tongue of eiTorto speak instruction to his people; and if, over and above this conveyance of lessons by the most unpromising vehicle, he be dispensing abundantly, by his faithful ambassadors, the rich nutriment of sound and heavenly doctrine — every sermon, which sj^eaks truth to the heart being viitually a homily of Christ deli- vered by himself, and every sacrament, which transmits grace, an ordinance of Christ superintended by himself^ — why. CHRIST THE MINISTER OF THE CHURCH. 26 y fidelity the most extraordinary must ne allowed to distinguisli the descrip- tion of our text; and Christ, though removed from visible ministration, has yet so close a concernment with all the business of the sanctuary — uttering the w^jrd, sprinkling- the water, and break- ing the bread, to all the members of his mystical body — that ho must em- phatically be styled, " a minister of holy things, of the true tabernacle which the Lord pitched, and not man." But whilst the ofHce of minister thus includes duties whose scene of pei-- foniiancc is the holy place, there are others which can only be discharged m the holy of holies. These appertain to Christ under his character of High Pl'iest ; no inferior minister being privi- leged to enter " within the veil." You must, we think, be familiar, through frequent hearing, with the offices of Christ as our Intercessor. You know that though he suffered but once, in the last ages of the worlil, yet, ever living to plead the merits of his sacrifice, he gives perpetuity to the oblation, and applies to the washing away of sin that blood which is as exj)iatory as in its first warm gushings. In no respect is it more sublimely true than in this, that Jesus Christ is " the same yesterday, and to-day, and forever." The high priests of Aaron's line entered, year by year, into the holiest of all, making con- tinually a new atonement " for them- selves and for the eiTors of the people." Heb. 9: 7. But he who was constituted " after the order of Melchisedec," king as well as priest, entered in once, not " by the blood of goats and calves, but by his own blood," Heb. 9 : 12, and needed never to return and ascend again the altar of sacrifice. It is not that sin can now be taken away by any thing short of shedding of blood. But iTitercession perpetuates crucifixion. Christ, as high priest within the veil, so immortalizes Calvary that, though " he livcth unto God," he dies continually unto sin. And thus, " if any man sin, we have," saitli St. John, " an advocate with the Father." 1 John, 2 : 1, But of what nature is his advocacy ] If you would understand it you must take the survey of his atonement. It was a mighty exploit which the INIcdiator ef- fected in the days of humiliation. He arose in the strength of that wondrous coalition of Deity and humanity of which his person was the subject; and he took into his grasp the globe over whose provinces Satan expatiated as his rightful territory ; and, by one vast im- pulse, he threw it back into the galaxy of Jehovah's favor ; and angel and arch- angel, cherubim and serapliim sang tho chorus of triumph at the stupendous achievement. Now it is of this achievement that intei'cession perjietuatos the results. We wish you to understand thoroufh- ly the nature of Christ's intercession. When Rome had thrown from her the wan-ior who had led his countrymen to victory, and galled and fretted the proud spirit of her boldest hero ; he, driven onward by the demon of re- venge, gave himself as a leader where he had before been a conqueror, and, taking a hostile banner into his pas- sionate grasp, headed the foes who sought to sulajugate the land of his na- tivity. Ye remember, it may be, how intercession saved the city. The mother bowed before the son ; and Coriolanus, vanquished by tears, subdued by plaints, left the capitol unscathed by battle. Hei-e is a precise instance of what men count successful intercession. But there is no analogy between this inter- cession and the intercession of Christ. Christ intercedes with justice. But the intercession is the throwing down his cross on the crystal floor of heaven, and thus proffering his atonement to satisfy the demand. Oh, it is not the interces- sion of burning tears, nor of half-choked utterance, nor of thrilling speech. It is the intercession of a broken body, and of gushing blood — of death, of pas- sion, of obedience. It is the interces- sion of a giant leajjing into the gap, and filling it with his colossal stature, and covering, as with a rampart of flesh, the defenceless camp of the outcasts. So that, not by the touching words and gestures of supj^lication, but by the re- sistless deeds and victories of Calvary, the Captain of our salvation intercedes : pleading, not as a petitioner who would move compassion, but rather as a con- queror who would claim his trophies. Hence Christ is " able to save to the uttermost," on the very ground that " he ever liveth to make intercession;" Heb. 7 : 25 ; seemg that no sin can bo committed for which the satisfaction, 26 CUniST THE MINISTER OF THE CHURCH. made upon Calvary, proffers not an im- mediate and thorougli expiation. And if, a-5 the intercessor, or advocate, of his people, Chi'ist Jesus may be said to stand continually at the altai'-side; and if he be momentarily offering up the sacriiice which is momentarily required by their fast recurring guilt; is he not most truly a minister of the tabernacle ] If, though the shadows of Jewish wor- ship have been swept away, so that, day by day, and year by year, a typical atonement is no longer to be made, the constant commission of sin demand, as it must demand, the constant pouring out of blood ; and if, standing not in- deed in a material court, and off'ering not the legal victims, but, nevertheless, officiating in the presence o^' God, " a lamb as it had been slain," Rev. 5 : 6, the Redeemer present the oblation pre- scribed for every offence and every short-coming ; is not the whole business of the tabernacle which man pitched transacted over again, and that too every instant, in the tabernacle which God pitched ; and, Christ, being the high pi'iest who alone presides over this expiatory process, how otherwise shall we describe him than as the " minister of the sanctuary, and of the true taber- nacle which the Lord j)itched and not man] " Bat once more. We may regard the prayers and praises of real believers as incense burnt in the true tabernacle, and rising in fragrant clouds towards heaven. Yet who knows not that this incense, though it be indeed nothing less than the breathings of the Holy Spirit, is so defiled by the corrupt channel of humanity through which it passes, that, unless purified and ethe- rializcd, it can never be accepted of God ] The Holy Ghost, as well as Christ Jesus, is said to make intercession for us. But these intercessions are of a widely different character. The Spirit pleads not for us as Christ pleads, hold- ing up a cross, and pointing to wounds. The intercession of the Spirit is an in- tercession made within ourselves, and throu!^h ourselves. It is the result of the Spirit's casting himself into our breasts, and there praying for us by in- structing us to pray for ourselves. Thus real prayer is the Spirit's breath; and what else in real praise] Real praise is the Spirit's throwing the heart into the tongue ; or rather, it is the sound produced, Avhon the Spirit has swept the chords of the soul, and there is a correspondent vibration of the lip. But though prayer and praise be thus, em- phatically, the breathings of the Holy Ghost, they ascend not up in their purity, because each of us is compelled to exclaim AAath Isaiah, " Wo is me, because I am a man of unclean lips." Isaiah, 6 : 5, Even the voice of the in- terceding Spirit, w'hen proceeding from that tongue which " is a fire, a world of iniquity," James 3 : 6, penetrates not the holy of holies, unless the Inter- cessor, who is at God's right hand, give it wings and gain it access. The at- mosphere, so to speak, which is round the throne of the Eternal One, must be impervious to the incense burnt in the earthly tabernacle, unless moist with that mysterious dew which Avas Avruno- by anguish from the Mediator. And how then shall we better repre sent the office which the Intercessor ex- ecutes than by saying, that he holds in his hands the censer of his own merits, and, gathering into it the prayers and praises of his church, renders them a sweet savor acceptable to the Father 1 Perfumed with the odor of Christ's pro- pitiation, the incense mounts; and God, in his condescension, accepts the oflfer- ing and breathes benediction in return. And what then, we again ask, is Christ Jesus but the " minister of the true tabernacle ] " If it be the Intercessor who carries our prayers and jiraises within the veil, and, laying them on the glowing fii'C of his righteousness, causes a spicy cloud to ascend and cover the mercy-seat ; does not this Intercessor officiate in the true tabernacle as did the high priest of old in the figurative ; and have we not fresh attestation to the truth of the description, that Jesus is " a minister of holy things, of the true tabernacle which the Lord pitched, and not maul " We think that the several particulars thus adduced constitute a strong wit- ness, so far as the church on earth is concerned, to the accuracy of the defi- nition presented by our text. We have shown you that to all true believers Christ Jesus is literally the minister of the sanctuary, preaching through the preacher, and administering, through his hands, the sacraments. And though CHRIST THE MINISTER OP THE CHURCH. 27 we may be thought to hdve heroin somewhat tronjched on the office of tlie Spirit, we have, in no degree, trans- gressed the statements ot" Scripture. In the Book of Revelation, it is Christ who sends, through John, the sermons to the churches, who liohls in his right hand the seven stars which represent the ministers of these churches, and who walketh in the midst of the seven goklen candlesticks which represent the churches themselves. And though, unquestionably, it is the Spirit which carries home the word, the delivery of that word must be referred to the Sa- vior. Thus, in a somewhat obscure passage of St. Peter, Christ is said to have gone by the Spirit, and " preached unto the spirits in prison." 1 Pet. 3 : 19. And certainly Avhat he did to the diso- bedient, he may justly be affirmed to do to the faithful. We have further shown you, that, as the high priest of his people, Christ offers up continual sacrifice, and burns sweet incense. And when you combine these particulars, you have virtually before you the Sa- vior in the pulpit of the sanctuary, the Savior at the altar, the Savior with the censer ; and thus, seeing that he offici- ates in the whole business of the di- vmely-pitched tabernacle, will you not confess him the minister of that tabei'- nacle 1 But, understanding by the " true ta- bernacle " the collective church of the redeemed, Avhether in heaven or on earth, we have yet to show you that Christ is the minister of the former por- tion as well as of the latter. You see, at once, that the " true tabernacle " can- not be what we have all along supposed, unless there be ministerial offices dis- charged by Christ towards the saints in glory. And we think that the over- looking the title of minister, or rather the identifying it with that of high pi-iest, has caused the unsatisfactoin- ness of many commentaries on the pas- sage. As High Priest of the spix'itual temple, Christ can scai-cely be said to execute any functions in which those who have entered into heaven are per- sonally interested. They are beyond the power of sin, and therefore need not sacrifice. The music of their praises is rolled from celestial harps, and re- quires not to be melodized. But, when we take Christ as the minister, we may observe respects in which, without ad- venturing on rash speculation, he may be said to discharge the same offices to the church above and the church below. We shall not presume to speak of what goes on in the holy of holies, with that confidence which is altog(;ther unwarrantable, when discourse turns on transactions of which the outer court is the scene. But finding Christ described as the " minister of the true tabernacle," and considering this taber- nacle as divided into sections, we only strive to be wise up to what is written, when, observing senses in which the name must be confined to the lower section, we search for others in which it may be extended to the upper. And if Christ minister to the church below by discharging the office oi preacher or instructor, who shall doubt that he may also thus minister to the church above ] We have already re- feiTed to a passage in St. Peter which speaks of Christ as having " preached to the spirits." We enter not into the controversies on this passage. But it gives, we think, something of founda- tion to the opinion, that whilst his body was in the sepulchre, Christ preached to spirits in the separate state, opening up to them, probably, those mysteries of redemption into which even angels, before-time, had vainly striven to look. The kings, and the prophets, and the rio-hteous men, who had desired to see the things which apostles saw, and had not seen them, and to hear the things which they heard, and had not heard them — unto these, it may be, Christ brought a glorious roll of intelligence ; and we can imagine him standing in the midst of a multitude which no man can number, who had all gone down to the chambers of death with but indis- tinct and far-off glimpses of the pro- mised Messiah, and explaining to the eager assembly the beauty, and the stability, of that deliverance which he had just wrought out through obe- dience and blood-shedding. And, O, there must have then gone forth a tide of the very loftiest gladness through the listening crowds of the separate state ; and then, perhaps, for the first time, admiration and ecstasy summon- ing out the music, was heard that anthem, whose rich peal rolls down the coming eternity, " Worthy, wor- 28 CHRIST THE MINISTER OF THE CHDRCH. thy, worthy is the Lamb." Then, it may be, lor tlie first time, did Adam embrace all ' the magnificence of the promise, that the seed of the woman should bruise the serpent's head ; and Abraham understood how the well-be- ing of the human popnhition depended upon one that should spring from his own loins ; and David ascertain all the meaning of mysterious strains, wiiich, as prefiguring Messiah, he had swept from the harp-strings. Then, too, the long train of Aaron's line, who had stood at the altar and slain the victims, and burnt the incense, almost Aveighed down by a ritual, the imjjort of whose ceremonies was but indistinctly made known — then, it maybe, were they sud- denly and sublimely taught the power of every figure, and the expressiveness of every rite ; whilst the noble com- pany of prophets, holy men who " spake as they were moved by the Holy Ghost," 2 Pet. 1: 21, but who, rapt into the future, uttered much which only the future could develope — these, as though starting from the sleep of ages, sprang into the centre of that gorgeous panorama of truth which they had been coinmissioned to outline, but over whose spreadings there had j-ested the cloud and the mist ; and Isaiah thrilled at the glories of his own say- ing, " unto us a child is born, unto us a son is given," Isaiah, 9 : G ; and Hosea grasped all the mightiness of the de- claration, which he had poured forth whilst denouncing the apostacies of Sa- maria, " O Death, I will be thy plagues ; O Grave, I will be thy destruction." Hosea, 13 : 14. We know not why it may not thus be considered that the day of Christ's entrance into the separate state was, like the Pentecostal day to the church upon earth, a day of the rolling off of obscurity from the plan of redemption, and of the showing how " glory, honor, and immortality," Horn. 2 : 7, were made accessible to the remotest of the world's families; a day on which a thousand types gave place to realities, and a thousand predictions leaped into fulfilment : a day, therefore, on which there circulated through the enormous gatherings of Adam and his elect pos- terity, already ushered into rest, a glad- ness which had never yet been reached in all the depth of their beatifical re- pose. And neither, then, can we dis' cover cause why Christ may not be thought to have filled the oflice of preacher to the buried tribes of the righteous, and thus to have assumed that character which he has never since laid aside, that of " a minister .i' Mie sanctuary, and of the true tabernacle which the Lord pitched, and not man." We know but little of the condition of separate spirits : but we know, as- suredly, from the witness of St. Paul, that they are " present with the Lord." 2 Cor. 5 : 8. Whatever the dwelling- place which they tenant, whilst await- ing the magnificent things of a resur- rection, the glorified humanity of the Savior is amongst them, and they are privileged to hold immediate commun- ings with their Head. Thus the preach- er, the mighty expounder of tlie will and purjjoses of the Father, moves to and fro through the achniring throng ; and the souls of those who have loved and served the Redeemer upon earth, are no sooner delivered from the flesh, than they stand in the presence of that illustrious Being who spake as " never man spake." Is he silent? Was it only in the day of humiliation, and in the hour of trouble, that he had instruction to impart, and lessons to convey, and deep and glorious secrets to 0]:)cn up to the faithful 1 He who described himself as actually " straitened " whilst on earth, who had many things to say Avhich his hearers were not able to bear — think ye that, in a nobler scene, and with spirits before him, all whose faculties have been wondcrously enlarged and sublimed, he delivers not the homilies of a mightier teaching, and leads not on his people to loftier heights of know- ledge, and broader views of truth 1 Oh, we cannot but believe that the glorified Redeemer converses — though thought cannot scan such mysterious and majestic converse — with those blessed beings who " have washed their robes and made them white, " Rev. 7: 14, in his blood; that he unfolds to them the wonders of redemption ; and teaches them the magnificence of God; and spreads out to their contemjila- tion the freight of splendor wherewith the second Advent is charged; and carries them to Pisgah tops, whence they look down ui)on the landscapes burning with the purple and the gold CHRIST THE MINISTER OP THE CHURCH. 29 across which they shall pass when at- tired in the livery of the resurrection — thus making the jilace of separate spirits a church, himself the preacher, immor- tality his text. Yea, when we think on the countless points of difference and dehatc between men who, in equal sin- cerity, love the Loi-d Jesus ; when we observe how those, who alike place all their hopes on the Mediator, hold op- posite opinions on many doctrines; and when we yet further remember, that a lono^ life-time of study and prayer leaves half the Bible unexplored ; there is so much to be unravelled, so much to be elucidated, so much to be learned, that we can suppose the Redeemer, day by day — if days there be where the sun never sets — imparting fresh in- telligence to the enraptured assembly, and causing new gladness to go the round of the crowded ranks, as he ex- pounds a difficulty, and justifies the ways of God to man. And whether or no we be overbold in even hinting at the possible subject- matter of discourse, we only vindicate the title which our text gives to the Savior, when we conclude that as the God-man passes through " the general assembly and church of the first-born," Heb. 12 : 23, he wrajjs not himself up in silence and loneliness ; but that speaking, as he spake with the dis- ciples journeying to Emmaus, he opens wonders, and causes eveiy heart to burn and bound. So that, removed as is the church within the veil from the ken of our observation, and needing not, as it cannot need, those deeds of an intercessor, which engage chiefly, in our own case, the ministry of Christ, we can yet be confident that in the Holy of Holies there goes onward a grand work of instruction ; and thus ascertaining that, as a preacher to his people Christ's office is not limited to those who sojourn in the flesh, we can understand by the " true tabernacle " the church above conjointly with the church below, and yet pronounce, un- resen'edly, of Jesus, that he is a " a minister of the true tabernacle which the Lord pitched and not man." Such, brethren, is our account of the title of our text, whether respect be had to believers in glory, or to believ- ers still warring upon earth. If we have dealt con-ectly with the passage, it fur- nishes one great practical admonition, already incidentally mentioned, which it will be well that you keep diligently in inind. When you attend the services of the sanctuary, remember who is the minister of that sanctuary. You run to hear this man preach, and then that man. But who amongst you — let me speak it with reverence — comes in the humble, prayerful, faithful hope of hearing Christ preach ] Yet Christ is the " minister of the true tabernacle." Christ preaches, through his servants, to those who forget the instrument, and use meekly the ordinance. It is a melancholy and dispiriting thing to observe how little effect seems wrought by preaching. "We take the case of a crowded sanctuary, where the business of listening goes on with a more than common abstraction. We may have before us the rich exhibition of an apparently riveted attention ; and the breathless stillness of a multitude shall give witness how_ they are hang- ing on the lips of the speaker. And if he grow impassioned, and pour out his oratory on things terribly sublime, the countenances of himdreds shall betray a convulsion of spirit — and if he speak glowingly of what is tender and beau- tiful, the sunniness in , many eyes shall testify to their feeling an emotion of delightsomeness. But we are not to be carried away by the charms of this spectacle. We know too thoroughly, that, with the closing of the sermon, may come the breaking of the spell; and that it is of all things the most pos- sible, that, if we pursued to their homes these earnest listeners, we should find no proof that impression had been made by the enunciated truths, and, perhaps, no more influential remembrance of the discourse, by whose power they had been borne completely away, than if they 'had sat fascinated by the loveli- ness of a melody, or awe-struck at the thunderings of an avalanche. And the main reason of all this wo take to be that men forget the ordi- nance, -and look only to the instrument. If such be the case, it is no marvel that they derive nothing from preach- ing but a little animal excitement, and a little head-knowledge. If you listen not for the voice of Cln-ist, who shall wonder that you hear only the voice of man, and so go away to your homes IMPOSSIBILITY OF CREATURE-MERIT wilh your souls unfed, simply equipped for sitting in judgment upon the ser- mon as you would upon a ti-agedy, and ready to begin the review with some caustic remark, which shall prove, that, whatever else you have learned, you have not learned charity ? Alas ! the times on which we have fallen are so evil, that there is almost a total losing-sight of the ordinance of a visible church. Preaching is valued, not as Christ's mode of ministering to his people, and therefore always to be prized; but as an oratorical display, whose worth, like that of a pleading at the bar, is to be judged by the skill of the argument and the power of the language. We can but point out to you the er- ror. It must remain with yourselves to strive to correct it. " Cease ye from man." Isaiah 2 : 22. When and where is this injunction so needful as in a church, and on a Sabbath 1 Eveiy thing is made to depend on the clergynian And men will tell you that he is very good, but very dull ; that his doctrine is sound, but his delivery heavy ; that he is inanimate, or ungraceful, or flow- cry, or prosaic. But as to hearing that he is Christ's servant, an instrument in his Master's hands — who meets \\dth this fi-om the Dan to the Eecrsneba of our Israel ] " Cease ye from man." If ye hope to be profited by preaching ; if ye would become — and this is a noble thing — independent of the preacher ; sti'ive ye diligently to press home upon your minds, as ye draw nigh to the sanctuary, that Jesus Christ is the " mi- nister of the true tabernacle." Thus shall ye be always secure of a lesson, and so bfe trained gradually for that inner court of the temple where, sitting down with patriarchs, and apostles, and saints, at the feet of the great Preacher himself, you shall loam, and enjoy, im- mortality. SERMON III. THE IMPOSSIBILITY OF CREATURE-MERIT. " For all things come of thee, and of thine own have we given thee." — 1 Chronicles, xxi.x, 14. Full of years, of riches, nnd of ho- nors, David, the man after God's own heart, is almost ready to be gathered to his fitliers, and to exchange his earthly diadem for one radiant with immortali- ty. Yet, ere he pass into his Maker's temple of the skies, he would provide large store of material for that ten-es- trial sanctuary, which, though it must not be reared by himself, he knew would be builded by Solomon. The gold and the silver, the onyx stones, and the stones of divers colors, and the mar- bles, these, and other less precious commodities, the monarch of Israel had heaped together for the work ; and now he summons the princes of the congregation to receive in trust the legacy. ^ Yet it was comparatively but little to bequeath the rich and costly ])ro- duce of the earth; an4 David might have felt that a devoted and zc;vlous spirit outweighed vastly the metal and the jewel. He indeed could leave be- hind him an abundnnce of all that was needful for the building in Jerusalem a house for the ark of the covenant ; but IMPOSSIBILITY OF CREATURE-MERIT. 31 where was the piety, where the holi- ness of enterprise which should call in- to being the fabric of his wishes ] He will not then lie down in his grave without breathing over the rare and gli-ttcring heaps a stirring, yea, al- most thrilling appeal ; demanding who, amid the assembled multitude, would emulate his example, and consecrate his service, that day, unto the Lord 1 It augured well for the kingdom of Ju- dea that its great men, and its liobles, answered to the call, as a band of de- voted warriors to the trumpet-peal of loyalty. He who had provided rich garniture for the temple's walls, and glorious hymns to echo through its courts, had cause to lift up his voice with gladness, and bless the Lord, when the chief of the fathers, and the heads of the tribes, offered themselves will- ingly, and swelled, by the gift of their own possessions, the treasures already devoted to the sanctuary. He had now good earnest that the cherished pro- mise was on the eve of fulfilment; and that though, having himself shed blood, and been a man of war from his youth, it was not fitting that he should rear a dwelling-place for Deity, one who sprang from his own loins should be honored as the builder of a structure, into which Jehovah would descend with the cloudy majesty of a mystic Shekinah. But, whilst glad of heart and rejoic- ing, David felt deeply how unworthy he was of the mercies which he had received, and how marvellous was that favor of Deity of which himself, and his people, had been objects. The na- tion had come forward, and, with a willing heart, dedicated its ti'easures to Jehovah. But the king, whilst exult- ing at such evidence of national piety, knew well that God alone had imparted the disposition to the people, and that, therefore, God must be thanked for what was offered to God. " Now, there- fore," saith he, " our God, we thank thee, and praise thy glorious name. But who am I, and what is my people, that we should be able to offer so will- ingly after this sort 1 " Two things, you observe, excited his gratitude and surprise : first, that the people and him- self should have so much to offer; se- condly, that over and above the abili- ty, there should be the willingness, to make so cosfly an oblation. He felt, that God had dealt wondrously with Israel in emptying into its lap the riches of the earth, and thus rendering it possible that piles of the pz^^ecious and the beautiful might be given, at his summons, for the Avork of the tem- ple. But then he also felt that the land might have groaned beneath the accu- mulations of wealth; but that, had not the hearts of the people been made willing by God, no fraction of the enor- mous mass would have been yielded for the building which he longed to see reared. God had given both the substance, and the willingness to con- secrate it to his service. And when David felt the privilege of a temple be- ing allowed to rise in Jerusalem, and, at the same time, remembered how en- tirely it was of God that there was either the ability, or the readiness, to build the structure ; he, might well burst into the exclamation, " Who am T, and what is my people, that we should be able to offer so willingly after this sort 1 " and then add, in the words of our text, " For all things come of thee, and of thine own have we given thee." You may thus perceive the connec- tion between the words on which we are to meditate, and those which im- mediately precede. David, as we have shown you, expressed surprise on two accounts, each of which is indicated by our text. He marvels that God should have blessed the people with such abundance, and explains why he ascribes the abundance to God, by say- ino-, " All thing^s come of thee." But he is also amazed at the condescension of God in giving willingness, as well as ability, to the people. God needed, not to receive at the creature's hands, and, therefore, it was pure love which moved him thus to influence the heart. Nothing could be presented to him which was not already his ; and might not then David be justly overpowered by the gi-aciousness of God, seeing that, however noble the offering, " of t/une own, have we given thee," must be the confession by which it Avas at- tended ] There will be no necessity, after having thus stated the occasion on which the text was delivered, and the meaning which it originally bore, thi.t 32 IMPOSSIBFLITr OF CREATURE-MERIT. we refer ag-ain to the preparations of David for building the temple. It is evident that the words are of most general applicability, and that we need not take account of the circumstances of the individual who first uttered them, when we would interpret their mean- ing-, or extract their lessons. We shall, therefore, proceed to consider the pas- sage as detached from 'the context, and as thus presenting us with truths which concern equally every age and every individual. We regard the words before us as resisting, with singular power, the no- tion that a creature can merit. AV^e know not tl>e point in theology which requires to be oftener stated, or more carefully es-tablished, than the impossi- bility that a creature should merit at the hands of the Creator. It is not to be controverted that men are disposed to entertain the opinion that creature- merit is possible, so that they have it in their power to effect something de- serving recompense from God. They will not indeed always set the point of merit very high. They will rather imi- tate the Pharisee in the parable, who evidently thought himself meritorious for stopping a degree or two short of being scandalous. " God, I thank thee that I am not as other men are, extortion- ers, unjust, adulterers." Luke, 18: 11. But whether it be at a low point or a lofty, that merit is supposed to com- mence, every man must own as his natu- ral sentiment that it commences at some point; and each one of us, if he have ever probed his own heart, will confess himself prone to the persuasion, that the creature can lay the Creator under obligation. We find ourselves able to deserve well of one another, to confer favors, and to contract debts. And when we cany up our thoughts from the finite to the infinite, we fjuite for- get the total change in the relation- ship ; and avc perceive not that the po- sition in which we stand to our Maker excludes those desei'vings which, xm- qucstionably, have place between man and man. Men simply view God as the mightiest of sovereigns, and, knowino- it possible to do a favor to their king, conclude it possible to do a favor to their God. Now it must be of fij-st-rate impor- tance that we ascertain the truth or the falsehood of such a conclusion. The method in which we may look to be saved will greatly vary, according as we admit, or deny, the possibility ot merit. It is quite clear that our moral position, if we cannot merit, must be vastly different fiom what it is, if we can merit, and that, consequently, the apparatus of deliverance cannot, in the two cases, be the same. So that it is no point of curious and metaphysical speculation, whether merit be consist- ent with creatureship. On the contrary, there cannot be a question whose de- cision involves inferences of greater practical moment. If I can merit, sal- vation may be partly of debt, and I may earn it as wages. If I cannot me- rit, salvation must be wholly of grace, and I must receive it as a gift. And thus every dispute upon justification by faitl\, every debate in reference to works as a procuring cause of accept- ance, would virtually be settled by the settlement of the impossibility of crea- ture-merit. Questions such as these are best deteraiined by reference to first principles. And if you had once demonstrated that merit is inconsist- ent with creatureship, you would have equally demonstrated that neither faith, nor works, can procure man's salvation in the way of desert ; but that, what- ever the instramentality through which justification is effected, justification it- self must be wholly of grace. Now we think, that, in examining the words of our text, we shall find powerful reasons from which to con- clude the impossibility of merit. The text may be said to state a fact, and then an inference from that fact. The fact is, that " All things come of God : " the inference is, that a creature can give God nothing which is not already his own. We will examine successively the fact, and the inference ; and then apply the passage to the doctrine which we desire to establish. We are, in the first place, to speak on the stated fact, that all things come of God. Npw there is nothing more wonder- ful in respect to Deity than that uni- versality of operation which is always ascribed to him. One grand distinction between the infinite being, and all finite beings, appears to us to be, that the one can be working a thousand things* IMPOSSIBILITY OF CREATURE-MERIT. 33 at once, whilst the energies of the others must confine themselves to one work at one time. If you figure to your- selves the highest of created intelligen- ces, you endow him with a might which leaves immeasurably behind the noblest human powers ; but you never think of investing him with the ability of act- ing, at the same time, on this globe, and on one of those far-off" planets which we see travelling around us. You make, in short, the strength of an arch- angel by multiplying the strength of a man. But, whatever the degree up to which you think it needful to multiply, you never add to the strength the in- comprehensible property, that it may be exerting itself, at the same moment, in places between which there is an untravelled separation, and causing its mightiness to be simultaneously felt in the various districts of a crowded im- mensity. If you even multiplied finite power till you supposed it to become infinite, you would only keep adding to its intenseness, and would in no de- gree attribute to it ubiquity. And, how- ever yoTi might suppose this multiplied power capable of wonders which seem to demand the interpositions of Deity, you would still consider, that these wonders must be performed in succes- sion ; and you would never imagine of the power, that, in the depths of every ocean, and on the surface of every star, it could, at the same instant, be putting forth its magnificent workings. And thus it is that the Omnipresence of Godhead is that property, which, more than any other, outruns our con- ceptions. In multiplying power, so to speak, you never multiply presence. But when you had even wrought up the idea of a power which can create, and annihilate, you would give it one thing to create at once, and one thing to annihilate at once ; and you would never suppose it busy equally, in all its glory and all its resistlessness, in every department of an universe, and with ev- ery fraction of infinity. So that the topmost marvel is that " All things come of God." The un- approachable mystery — it is not that God should be in the midst of this sanctuary, and that he should be minis- tering life to those gathered within its walla — it is, that he should be no more here than he is elsewhere, and no more elsewhere than he is here ; and that with as ac-tunl a concentration of energy as though he had no other oc- cupation, he should be supplying our fast-recumng necessities ; and yet that, with such a diffusion of presence as causes him to be equally every where, he should superintend each district of creation, and give out vitality to each order of beings. " All things come of God." It is not merely that all things come of God by original production ; all things come of God by aftcr-sus- tainment. And whether you consider the visible world, or the invisible ; whe- ther you extend your thoughts over the unmeasured fields of materialism, or send them to the survey of those count- less ranks of intelligence which stretch upwards between yourselves and your Maker — you are bound to the belief that every spot in the unlimited space, and every member of the teeming as- semblage, recjuires and receives the operations of Deity ; and that if, for a lonely instant, those operations were suspended, worlds would jostle and make a new chaos, while a disastrous bank- ruptcy of life would succeed to the pre- sent exuberance of animation. So that it is as true of the angelic hosts, moving in their power and their purity, as of ourselves, fallen from im- mortality, and beggared, and weaken- ed, that " all things come of God." There can be but one independent be- ing, and on that one all others must depend. An independent being must, necessai'ily, be self-existent, possess- ing in himself all the well-springs of life, and all the sources of happiness. A being whose existence is derived must, as necessarily, be dependent on the first author for the after-continu- ance. A being who could do without God would himself be God ; and there needs no argument to prove to you, that, whatever else God could make, he could not make himself And you must take it, therefore, as a truth which admits not limitation, that " all things come of God; " so that there. is not the order of creatures, whether material or immaterial, which stands not, every moment, indebted for every thing to God, or which, however rare its en- dowments, and however majestic its possessions, could dispense, for one instant, with communications from the 5 34 IMPOSSIBILITY OF CREATURE-MERIT. fulness of the Almighty, or he thrown on its own energies, without heing thrown lo /^ Cod." If then " the Hkeness of men," or " the form of a servant," implied that Christ was not really man, or not really a servant, " the form of God " would imply that he was not really God. The several expres- sions must have a similar interpreta- tion. And if, therefore, Christ was not really man, Clirist was not really God; and what then was he 1 Neither man, nor God is a conclusion for which no heretic is jircpared. All admit that he was God sej^arately, or man separately, or God and man conjointly. And there- fore the expressions, " form of God," " form of a servant," must mean lite- rally God, and literally a servant; other- wise Christ was neither divine nor hu- man, but a phantom of both, and there- fore a nothing. So that, whatever St. Paul's reasons for employing this kind of expression, you see at once that, since he uses it alike, whether in refer- ence to the connection of Christ with divinity, or to that with humanity, it can take off nothing from the reality of either the manhood or the Godhead. If it took from one, it must take equally from both. And thus Christ would be left without any subsistence — a conclu- sion too monstrous for tlint most credu- lous of all things — scepticism. We are certain, therefore — inasmuch as the alternative is an absurdity which waits not for refutation — that when St. Paul asserts of Clirist that he was " found in fashion as a man," he intends nothing at variance with the doctrine of the real humanity of the Savior. He points him out as actually man ; though, for reasons which remain to be investi- gated, he adopts the phrase, " the fa- shion of a man." Now it cannot, we think, be doubted that an opposition is designed between the expressions " in the form of God," and " found in fashion as a man," and that we shall understand the intent of the latter only through possessing our- selves of that of the former. If you con- sult your liibles, you will perceive the representation of St. Paul to be, that it was " the form of God" of which Christ emptied himself, or which Chnst laid aside, when condescending to be bora of a woman. " Who being in the form of God, thought it not rcbbery to be equal with God; but made himself of no reputation, (so we render it, but li- terally it is ' emptied himself,') and took upon him the form of a servant." It was, therefore, " the Jh)-m of God" which Christ laid aside. He was still God, and could not, for a lonely instant, cease to be God. But he did not appear as God. He put from him, or he veiled, those effulgent demonstrations of Deity which had commanded the homage, and called forth the admiration of the celes- tial hierarchy. And though he was, all the while, God, God as truly, and as ac- tually, as when, in the might of mani- fested Omnipotence, he filled infinite space with glorious masses of architec- ture, still he so restrained the blazings of Divinity that he could not, in the same sense, be known as God, but want- ed the form whilst retaining the essence. He divested himself, then, of the form of God, and assumed, in its stead, the form or fashion of a man. Heretofore, he had both been, and appeared to be God. Now he was God, but apjieared as a man. The very being who had daz- zled the heavenly hosts in the form of God, walked the earth in the forrii and fashion of a man. Such, we think, is a fair account of the particular phrase- ology v/hich St. Paul employs. The apostle is speaking of Christ as more than man. Had Christ been only man, how preposterous to say of him, that he was " found in fashion as a man." What other fashion, what other out- ward appearance, can a mere man j^re- sent, but the fashion, the outward ap- pearance of a man ] But if Christ were God, and yet appeared as man, there is perfect accuracy in the statement that he was " found in fashion as a man; " and we can understand, readily enough, how he who never ceased, and could not cease to be God, might, at one time, manifest divinity in the form of God, and, at another, shroud that divinity in the form of a servant. We would pause yet a moment on this point, for it is worth your closest attention. We are told that Christ " emptied himself," so that " though he was rich, yet for our sakes he became poor." 2 Cor. 8 : 9. But of what did he empty himself? Not of his being, not of his nature, not of his attributes. It must be blasphemous to speak of pro- perties of Godhead as laid aside, oi 44 THE HUMILIATION OF THE MAN CHRIST JEStJS. even suspended. But Christ " emptied liimseM"" of the glories and the majes- ties to which he had claim, and which, as he sat on the throne of the heavens, he possessed in unmeasured abundance. Whatsoever he was as to nature and essence, whilst appearing amongst the angels in the form of God, that he con- tinued to be still, when, in the form of a servant, he walked the scenes of hu- man habitation. But then the glories of the form of God, these for a while he altogether abandoned. If indeed he had appeared upon earth — as, according to the dignity of his nature, he had right to appear — in the majesty and glory of the Highest, it might be hard to under- stand what riches had been lost by di- vinity. The scene of display would have been changed. But the splendor of display being unshorn and undimin- ished, the armies of the sky might have congregated round the Mediator, and have given in their full tale of homage and admiration. But, oh, it was poverty that the Creator should be moving on a province of his own emjoire, and yet not be recognized nor confessed by his creatures. It was poverty that, when he walked amongst men, scattering blessings as he trode, the anthem of praise floated not around him, and the air was often burdened with the curse and the blasphemy. It was poverty that, as he passed to and fro through tribes whom he had made, and whom he had come down to redeem, scarce a soli- tary voice called him blessed, scarce a solitary , hand was stretched out in friendship, and scarce a solitary roof ever profiered him shelter. And when you contrast this deep and desolate po- verty with that exuberant wealth which had been always his own, whilst heaven continued the scene of his manifesta- tions — the wealth of the anthem-peal of ecstasy from a million rich voices, and of the solemn bowing down of sparkling multitudes, and of the glow- ing homage of immortal hierarchies, whensoever he showed forth his power or his purposes — ye cannot fail to per- ceive that, in taking upon him flesh, the Eternal Son descended, most literally, from abundance to want; and that, though he continued just as mighty as before, just as infinitely gifted with all the stores and resources of essential di- vinity, the transition was so total, from the reaping-in of glory from the wnolo field of the universe to the receiving, comparatively, nothing of his revenues of honor, that we may assert, without reser^'e, and without figure, that ho who was rich, for our sakes became poor. "In the form of God," he had acted as it were, visibly, amid the en- raptured plaudits of angel and arch- angel, cherubim and seraphim. But now, in the form of man, he must be withdrawn from the delighted inspec- tions of the occupants of heaven, and act, as powerfully indeed as before, but mysteriously and invisibly, behind a dark curtain of flesh, and on the dreary platform of a sin-burdened territory. So that the antithesis, "the form of God," and "found in fashion as a man," marks accurately the change to which the Mediator submitted. And thus, whilst on our former showings, there is no imj^eachment, in the phrase, of tlie reality of Christ's humanity, Ave now exract from the description a clear witness to the divinity of Jesus, and show you that a form of speech which seems, at first sight, vague and indefi- nite, was, if not rendered unavoidable, yet readily dictated, by the union of natures in the person of the Redeemer. But we will now pass on to consider that act of humility which is ascribed in our text to Christ Jesus. " Being found in fashion as a man, he humhlcd himself, and became obedient unto death, even the death of the cross." Now wo would have it obsei'ved — for some of the greatest truths in theology depend on the fact — that the apostle is here speaking of what Christ did after he had assumed humanity, and not or what he did in assuming humanity. There was an act of humiliation, such as mortal thought cannot compass, in the coming down of Deity, and his tabernacling in flesh. We may well ex- claim, wonder, O heavens, and be aston- ished, O earth, when we remember that He whom the universe cannot contain, did, literally, condescend to circum- scribe himself within the form of a ser- vant ; and that in no figure of speech, but in absolute, though mysterious re- ality, " the Word was made flesh," St. John, 1 : 14, and the Son of the High- est born of a pure virgin. We shall never And terms in which to embody oven our own conceptions of this un THE UUMII.rATION OF THE MAN CHRIST JESUS. 45 measured humiliation ; whilst these con- ceptions themselves leave altogether unapproached the boundary lines of the wonder. Who can " by searching find out CJod ]" Job, 11:7. Who, then, by striving can calculate the abasement that (Jod should become man"? If I could climb to Deity, I might know what it was for Deity to descend into d'jst. Bui forasmuch as God is inac- cessiole to all my soarings, it can never come within the compass of my imagi- nation to tell up the amount of conde- scension ; and it will always reinain a prodigy, too large for every thing but faith, that the Creator coalesced with the creature, and so constituted a mediator. But it is not to this act of humilia- tion that our text beai-s reference. This was the humiliation in the assumption of humanity. But after humanity had been assumed, when Christ was " found in fashion as a man," he yet further humbled himself; so that, over and above the humiliation as God, there was an humiliation as man. And it is on this fact that we would fasten your at- tention. You are to view the Son of God as having brought himself down to the level of humanity, as having laid aside his dignities, and taken part of the flesh and the blood of those -whom ne yearned to redeem. But then you are not to consider that the humiliation ended here. You are not to suppose that whatsoever came after was Avound up, so to speak, in the original humilia- tion, and thus was nothing more than its fuller developement. God humbled himself, and became man. But there was yet a lower depth to which this first humiliation did not necessarily carry him. " Being found in fashion as a man, he humbled himself.'' The apostle does not leave us to con- jecture in what this second humiliation mainly consisted. He represents it as submission to death, " even the death of the cross." So that, after becom- ing man, it was "humbling himself" to yield to tnat sentence from which no man is exempted. It was " humbling him- self," to die at all ; it was " humbling himself" still more, to die ignominiously. We will examine successively these statements, and the conclusions to which they naturally lead. It was humility in Christ to die at all. Who tlien was this mysterious man of whom it can be said that he humbled himself in dying 1 Who can that man be, in whom that was humility which, in others, is necessity % Has thei'e ever been the individual amongst the natu- ral descendants of Adam, however rare his endowments or splendid his achieve- ments, however illustrious by the might of hei-oism, or endeared by the warmth of philanthropy, of whom we could say that it was humility in him to die 1 It were as just to say that it was humility in him to have had only five senses, as that it was humility in him to die. The most exalted piety, the nearest ap- proaches to perfection of character, the widest distances between himself and all others of the race ; these, and a hundred the like reasons, would never induce us to give harborage, for an in- stant, to the thought that a man stood exempt from the lot of humanity, or that it was left, in any sense, to his option whether or no he would die. And, therefore, if there be a strong me- thod of marking off a man from the crowd of the human species, and of dis- tinguishing him from all who bear the same outward appearance, in some mightier respects than those of a men- tal or moral superiority, is it not the ascribing to him what we may call a lordship over life, or the representing him as so literally at liberty to live, that it shall be humility in him to die 1 We hold it for an incontrovertible truth, that, had St. Paul said nothing of the prc-existent glory of our Mediator, there would have been enough in the expression of our text to satisfy unpre- judiced minds that a mere man, such as one of ourselves, could be no just desci'iption of the Lord Christ Jesus. If it were humility in the man to die, there must have been a power in the man of refusing to die. If, in becominor " obedient unto death," the man ''hum- bled himself," there can be no debate that his dying was a voluntary act; and that, had he chosen to decline submis- sion to the rending asunder of soul and body, he might have continued to this day, \inworn by disease, unbroken by age, the immortal man, the indestruc- tible flesh. We can gather nothing from such fonn of expression, but that it would have been quite possible for the Mediator to have upheld, through long cycles, undecayed his humanity, and to 46 THE HUMILIATION OF TUE MAN CHRIST JESUS. have preserved it stanch and unbroken, whilst generation after generation rose, and flourished, and fell. He in whom it was humility to die, must have been one who could have resisted, through a succession of ages, the approaches of death, and thus have still trodden our earth, the child of centuries past, the heir of centuries to come. We plead for it as a most simple and necessary deduction, and we deny alto- gether that it is a harsh and overstrain- ed inference, from the fact that the man Clirist Jesus humbled himself in dying, that the man was more than man, and that a nature, higher than human, yea, even divine, belonged to his person. We can advance no other account of such an act of humility. If you were even to say that the second Adam was, in every respect, just such a man as the first, ere evil entered, and, v.'ith it, ob- noxiousness to death, you would intro- duce greater difficulties than the one to be removed. You may say that if, for the sake of winnino: some advantaofc to his posterity, Adam, whilst yet un- fallen, and therefore, without " the sen- tence of death," 2 Cor. 1 : 2, in his mem- bers, had consented to die, ho would, strictly speaking, have humbled him- self in dying; and that consequent- ly Christ, supposing him sinless like Adam, and therefore, under no necessi^ ty of death, might have displayed hu- mility in consenting to die, and yet not thereby have proved himself divine as well as human. We are not disposed to controvert the statement. So far as we can judge — though we have some jealousy of allowing that a mere crea- ture can humhlc himself in executing God's work — it may be true, that, had the man Christ Jesus been, in every re- spect, similar to the unfallen Adam, there might have been humility in his dying, and yet no divinity in his person. JJut then we strenuously set our- selves against such a false and perni- cious view of the Savior's humanity. We will admit that a Papist, but we deny that a Protestant can, without doing utter violence to his creed, main- tain that in every respect Christ re- sembled the unfallen Adam. The Pa- p'st entertains extravagant notions of the virgin-mother of our Lord. He sup- poses her to have been immaculate, and free from original corruption. The Protestant, on the contrary, Avithhold- ing not from Mary due honor and es- teem, classes her, in every sense, amongst the daughters of man, and be- lieves that, whatever her superior love- liness of character, she had her full share of the pollution of our nature. Now it may consist well enough with the Papist's theory, but it is Avholly at variance with the Protestant's, to sup- j30se that the man Jesixs, made of the substance of his mother, had a human- ity, like that of Adam, free from infir- inity as well as fi'om sinful propensity. And we can never bring up the human- ity of Christ into exact sameness with the humanity of Adam, without either overthroAving the fundamental article of faith, that the Redeemer was the seed of the woman, or ascribing to his mother such preternatural purity as makes her own birth as mysterious as her son's. We should pause, for a moment, in our argument, and speak on the point of the Savior's humanity. AVe are told that Christ's humanity was in every respect the same as our own humanity; fallen, therefore, as ours is fallen. But Christ, as not being one of the natural descendants of Adam, was not included in the covenant made with, and viola- ted by, our common father. Hence his humanity was the solitary exception, the only humanity which became not fallen humanity, as a consequence on apostacy. If a man be a fallen man, he must have fallen in Adam ; in other words, he must be one of those whora Adam federally represented. But Christ, as being emphatically the seed of the woman, was not thus federally rej^re- sented ; and therefore Christ fell not, as we fell in Adam. He had not been a party to the broken covenant, and thus could not be a sharer in the guilty con- sequences of the infraction. But, nevertheless, while wo argue that Christ was not what is termed a fallen man, we contend that, since " made of a woman," Galatians, 4 ; 4, he was as truly " man, of the substance of his mother," * as any one amongst * Athanasian Creed. THE HUMILIATION OF THE MAN CHRIST JESU§. 47 ourselves, the weakest and most sinful. He was " made of a woman," and not a new creation, like Adam in Paradise. When we say that Christ's humanity was unfallen, we are far enough from saying that his humanity was the same as that of Adam, before Adam trans- gressed. He took humanity with all those innocent infirmities, hut witliout any of those sinful propensities, which the fall entailed. There are consequen- ces on guilt which arc perfectly guilt- less. Sin introduced pain, but pain it- self is not sin. And therefore Christ, as being " man, of the substance of his mother," derived from her a sviffering humanity; but as "conceived by the Holy Ghost,"* he did not derive a sinful. Fallen humanity denotes a hu- manity which has descended from a state of moral purity to one of moral impurity. And so long as there has not been this descent, humanity may re- main unfallen, and yet pass from physi- cal strength to physical weakness. This is exactly what we hold on the humani- ty of the Son of God. We do not as- sert that Chi'ist's humanity was the Adamic humanity ; the humanity, that is, of Adam whilst still loyal to Jeho- vah. Had this humanity been rejDi'odu- ced, there must have been an act of creation ; whereas, beyond controver- sy, Christ was " made of a woman," and not created, like Adam, by an act of omnipotence. And allowing that Christ's humanity was not the Adamic, of course we allow that there were con- sequences of the fall of which it par- took. We divide, therefore, these con- sequences into innocent infirmities, and sinful propensities. From both was Adam's humanity free before, and with both was it endowed after, transgres- sion. Hence it is enough to have ei- ther, and the humanity is broadly dis- tinguished from the Adamic. Now Christ took humanity with the inno- cent infirmities. He derived humanity from his mother. Bone of her bone, and flesh of her flesh, like her he could hunger, and thirst, and weep, and mourn, and writhe, and die. But wliilst he took humanity with the innocent infirmities, he did not take it with the sinful propensities. Here Deity inter- posed. The Holy Ghost overshadowed the Virgin, and, allowing weakness to be derived from her, forbade wicked- ness; and so caused that there should be generated a sorrowing and a suffer- ing humanity, but neveithelcss an un- defiled and a spotless ; a humanity with tears, but not with stains; accessible to anguish, but not prone to offend; allied most closely with the produced misery, but infinitely removed from the producing cause. So that we hold — and we give it you as what we believe the orthodox doctrine — that Christ's humanity was not the Adamic humani- ty, that is, the humanity of Adam be- fore the fall; nor fallen humanity, that is, in every respect the humanity of Adam after the fall. It was not the Ad- amic, because it had the innocent infir- mities of the fallen./ It was not the fallen, because it had never descended into moral impurity. It was, therefore, most literally our humanity, but with- out sin. " Made of a woman," Christ derived all from his mother that we derive, except sinfulness. And this he dez'ived not, because Deity, in the per- son of the Holy Ghost, interposed be- tween the child and the pollution n^ the parent. But we nov/ recur to the subject- matter of discussion. We may consi- der our position untouched, that since a man "made of a woman," humbled himself in dying, he must have had an- other nature which gave him such pow- er over the human, that he might either yield to, or resist, its infirmities. Christ took our nature with its infirmities. And to die is one of these infirmities, just as it is to hunger, or to thirst, or to be weary. There is no sin in dvino-. It IS, indeed, a consequence on sin. But consequences may be endured witliout share in the cause; so that Christ could take flesh which had in it a ten- dency to death, but no tendency to sin. It is not saying that Christ's flesh was sinful like our own, to say that it was coiTuptible like our own. There might be eradicated all the tendencies to the doing wrong, and still be left all the physical entailments of the wrong done by another. And no man can read the prophecy, "thou wilt not leave my * Apostles' Creed. 48 THE HUMTLIATIOV OP THE MAX CHRIST JESUS. Boul in hell, neither wilt thou suffer thine Holy One to sec coiruption," Psalm 16 : 10, without perceiving that there was no natural incorruptibility, and, therefore, no natural deathlessness in the flesh of Christ Jesus ; for if the flesh had been naturally incorruptible, and, therefore, naturally deathless, liow could God be represented as providing that this flesh should not remain so long in the grave as " too see con"up- tion ? " The ]n-ophecyhas no meaning, if it be denied that Christ's body would have corrupted, had it continued in the sepulchre. We may assert, then, that in Christ's humanity, as in our own, there was a tendency to dissolution ; a tendency re- sulting from entailed infirmities which were innocent, but in no degree from sinfulness, whether derived or con- tracted. But as the second person in the Trinity, the Lord of life and glory, Christ Jesus possessed an unlimited control over this tendency, and might, had he pleased, for ever have suspend- ed, or for ever have counteracted it. And herein lay the alleged act of hu- mility. Christ was unquestionably mor- tal ; otherwise it is most clear that he could not have died at all. But it is to the full as unquestionable that he must have been more than mortal ; other- wise death was unavoidable ; and where can be the humility of submitting to that which Ave have no power of avoid- ing ] As mere man, he was mortal. But then as God, the well-spring of life to the pojiulation of the universe, he :ould forever have withstood the ad- vances of death, and have refused it do- minion in his own divine person. But "he humljlod himself" In order that there might come down u2>on him the fulness of the wrath-cup, and that he might exhaust the penalties whic-h roll- ed, like a sea of fire, between earth and heaven, he allowed scope to that liablc- ness to death which he might for ever have arrested ; and died, not throuo-h any necessity, but through the act of his own will ; died, inasmuch as his humanity was mortal ; died voluntarily, inasmuch as his person was divine. And this was humility. If, on becom- ing man, he had ceased to be God, there would have been no humility in his death. He would only have submit- ted to what ho could not have declin- ed. But since, on becoming wliat he was not, he ceased not to be what ha was, he brought down into the fashion of man all the life-giving energies which appertained to him as God ; and lie stood on the eaith, the wondrous combination of tAvo natures in one per- son ; the one nature infirm and tending to decay, the other self-existent, and the source of all being throughout a crowded immensity. And the one nature might have eter nally kept up the other; and, with- standing the inroads of disease, and pouring in fresh supplies of vitality, have given undecaying vigor to the mortal, perpetual youth to the coiTup- tible. But how then could the Scrip- tures have been fulfilled; and wheie would have been the expiation for the sins of a burdened and groaning crea- tion? It was an act of humility — the tongue, we have told you, cannot ex- press it, and the thought cannot com- pass it — that, "for us men and for Our salvation," the Eternal Word consent- ed to "be made flesh." God became man. It was stupendous humility. But he was not yet low enough. The man must humble himself, humble himself even unto death ; for " without shed- ding of blood is no remission." He- brews, 9 : 22, And he did humble him- self Death was avoidable, but he sub- mitted ; the grave might have been overstepped, but he entered. It would not have been the working out of human redemption, and the mil- lions with whom he had entered into brotherhood would have remained un- delivered from their thraldom to Satan, had Ueity simply united itself to hu- manity, and then upheld humanity so as to enable it to defy its great enemy, death. Tliere lay a curse on the earth's population, and he who would be their surety must do more than take their nature — he must carry it through llie darkness and the fearfulness of the real- ized malediction. But what else was this but a fresh act of humility, a nqw and unlimited stretch of condescen- sion 1 Even whilst on earth, and cloth- ed round with human flesh and blood, Christ Jesus was still that great " I am," who sustains " all things by the word of his power," Hebrews, 1 : .3, and out of whose fulness every rank of created intelligence hath, from the beginning, THE HUMILIATION OK THE MAN CliniST JESUS. drawn the elements of existence. And theretbrc, tlumgli " found in fasliion as a man," he was all along infinitely su- perior to the necessity of human na- ture ; and, being able to lay down life and to take it again at pleasure, was only subject to death bcca\ise deter- mining to die. It was then humility to die. It was the voluntary submission to a curse. It was a free-will descent from the high privilege of bearing on humanity through the falling myri- ads of successive generations, and of strengthening it to walk as the denizen of eternity, whilst there went forward unresisted, on the right hand and on the left, the mowing-down the species. And when, therefore, you W(tuld de- scribe the humiliation of the Son of God, think not that you have opened the depths of aJbasement, when you have sliown him exchanging the throne of light, and the gh>i"y whicli he had with the Father, for a tabernacle of flesh, and companionship with the rc- ho). Ho went down a second abyss, we had almost said, as fathomless as the first. From heaven to earth, ^\ho shall measure it] But when on earth, when a m:in, there was the whole precipice of God's curse, not one hair-breadth of which was he necessitated to descend. And when, therefore, he threw himself over this precipice, and sank into the grave, who will deny that there was a new and overwhelming display of con- descension ; that there was performed by the God-man, even as there had been by the God, an act of self-humiliation to which we can find no parallel ; and that, consequently, " being found in fashion as a man, Christ hainhlcd him- self, and became obedient unto death .?" But this is not all. You have not yet completed the sun-^ey of the Mediator's humiliation. It was wonderful self-abasement that he should choose to die. But the man- ner of the death makes the humility a thousand fold more apparent. " He be- came obedient unto death, even the death of the cross." We wish it observ- ed that Christ Jesus was not insensible to ignominy and disgrace. Ho submit- ted ; but, oh, he felt acutely and bitter- ly. You cannot cause a sharper pang to an ingenuous and upright mind than by the imputation of crime. The conscious- ness of innocence only heightens the smart. It is the guilty man who cares only for the being condennieJ — the guiltless is pierced tlu-ough and tlnf)ugh i)y tlhe being accused. And let it never be thought that the humanity of the Son of God, holy and undefiled as it was, possessed not this sensitiveness to disgrace. " Be ye come out as a- gainst a thief, with swords and staves ? " St. Luke, 22 : 52, was a remonstrance which clearly showed that he felt keen- ly the shame of unjust and rufhanly treatment. And as if it were not hu- njiliation enough to die, shall he, with all this sensitiveness to disgrace, die the death which was, of all others, ig- nominious ] a death appropriated to the basest condition of the worst men, and lui worthy of a free man, whatever the amount of his guiltiness 1 Shall the separation of soul from body be effect- ed by an execution to which none were doomed but the most wretched of slaves, or the most abandoned of mis- creants ; by a punishment, too inhuman indeed to find place in the Jewish code, but the nearest approach to which, the hanging up the dead bodies of crimi- nals, was held so infamous and execra- ble, that the fearful })hrase, " accursed by God," was applied to all thus sen- tenced and used i We speak of nothing but the shame of the cross ; for it was the shame which gave display to humi- lity. And we are bold to say, that, after the condescension of God in becoming man, after the condescension of the God-man in consenting to die, there was an act of condescension, scarce in- ferior to the others, in that the death was " the death of the cross. " He who humbled himself in dying at all, hum- bled himself unspeakably more in dying as a malefactor. It would have hoen humility had he who was exempt from the necessity of our nature consented to fall, as heroes fall, amid the tears of a grateful pef»})le, and the ap})lauses of an admiring world. It would have been humility had he breathed out his soul on the regal couch, and far-spreading tribes had felt themselves orphaned. But to be suspended as a spectacle be- tween heaven and earth; to die a lin- gering death, exposed to the tauntings and revilings of a profligate multitude, " all they that see me laugh me to scora ; they shoot out the lip, they shake the head ;" Psalm 22 : 7 ; to be " numbered 7 60 THE HUMILIATION OF THE MAX CHRIST JESUS. widi the transi^-essors," Isaiah, 53 : 12, and expire amid the derision and de- spite of his own kinsmen after tlie flesh ; if the other were humihty, how shall we describe this? Yet to this, even. to this, lace, and that the party was not in a trance, so clear and decisive that no room was left for the cavils of the sceptic. And accordingly there is gi'ound of doubt whetlier the ajjostles themselves were thoroughly convinced of Christ's power over death ; whether, that is, they believed him able to re- cover life when once totally and truly extinguished. At least, you will observe, that, when told that Lazarus was actu- ally dead, they were filled with sorrow ; and that, when Christ said that he would go and awaken him froin sleep, they re- solved indeed to accompany their Mas- ter, but expected rather to be them- selves stoned by the Jews, than to see their friend brought back from the sepulchre. We may suppose, therefore, flint it was with the design of furnishing an irresistible demonstration of his power, that, after hearing of the illness of La- 52 THE DOCTRINE OF THE RESURRECTION. zarus, Jesus tarried two days in the place wlicre the mcssajro liad I'ound liiin. He loved Lazarus, and Martha and Mary his sistexs. It must then have been the dictate of aft'ection that he should hast- en to the distressed family as soon as inf(»rmcd of their affliction. But had he reached Bethany before Lazarus expir- ed, or soon after the catastrophe had occurred, we may readily see that the same objection might liave been urged against the miracle of restoration, as in the other instances in which the grave liad been deprived of its pi'oy. There would n(tt have been incontrovertible proof of actual death; and neither, therefore, would there have been in- controvertible ])roof that Jesus was " the prince of life." Acts, 3: 15. But, by so delaying his journey that he ar- rived not at Bethany until Lazarus had been four days dead, Clu-ist cut off all occasion of cavil, and, rendering it un- deniable that the soul had been sepa- rated from the body, rendered it equally undeniable, when he had wrought the miracle, that he possessed the power of re-uniting the two. As Jesus approached Bethany, he was met by Martha, who seems to have en- tertained some indistinct apprehension that his prevalence with (lod, if not his own might, rendered possil>le, even then, the restoration of her brother. "I know that, even now, whatsoever thou wilt a-!k of God, God will give it thee." This drew from Jesus the saying, " thy brother shall rise again." The resur- rection of the body was, at this time, an article of the national creed, being confessed by the great mass of the Jews, though denied by the Sadducees. Hence Martha had no diHiciilly in assenting to what Jesus declared ; though she plain- ly implied that she both wished and hoj)ed something more on belialf of her brother. " I know that he shall rise atrJiin in the resurrection, at the last day." And now it was, that, in order to obtiin a precise declaration of faith in his pow(;r, Jesus addressed Miirtha in tlie words of our text, woi'ds of an ex- traordinary beauty and solemnity, put by the Church into the mouth of the minister, as he meets the sorrowing band who bear a brother, or a sister, to the long home nppointed for our race. Jesus said unto lu^r. •' I am the resur- rtjctlon aiwl the liie." Martha had ex- I pressed frankly her belief in a general resurrection ; but she seemed not to as- sociate this resurrection with Jesus as a cause and an agent. The Redeemer, therefore, gathers, as it were, the gene- ral resurrecticm into Himself; and, as though asserting that all men shall in- deed rise, but oidy through mysterious union with himself, he declares, not that he will efl'ect the resurrection, sum- moning by his voice the tenantry from the sepulchres, but that he is Himself that resurrection : " 1 am the resuirec- tion and the life." Now it were beside our purpose to follow furtluM- the narrative of the rais- ing of Lazarus. We have shown you how the words of our text are intro- du(-ed, and we shall find that, when de- tached from the context, they funiish material of thought amply sufficient for a single discourse. It seems to us, that, in claiming such titles as those which are to come im- der review, Christ declared himself the cause and the origin of the immortality of our bodies and souls. In announcing himself as " the resurrection," he must be considered as stating that he alone effects thc! wondrous result of the coi*- ruj)tible putting on incorruption. In announcing himself as " the life," ho equally states that he endows the spirit with its hajipiness, yea, i-ather with its existence throuu:h eternity. If Christ had only termed himself " the resurrec- tion," we might have considered him as refeiTing merely to the body — as- serting it to Ix) a consequence on his work of mediation that the dust of ages shall agiiin quicken into life. But when He terms himself also " the life," we cannot but suppose a reference to tho immortality of the soul, so that this noble and sublime fact is, in some way, associatful with the achievements of redemption. We are accustomed, indeed, to think that the immortality of the soul is in- de()endent on the atonement : so that, although had there been no redemption there would have been no resurrection, the principle within us wcmld have re- miiincd uncpxenched, subsisting for ever, and for ever ac<*essible to pain and pen- alty. We shall not pause to examino the justice or injustice of the opinion. M^e shall only remark that tho exist- ence of the soul is, undoubtedly, as de- THE DOCTRINE OP THE RESURRECTION. 53 pendent upon God as that of the body ; that no spirit, except Deity himself, can be necessarily, ancl inherently, immor- tal ; and that, if it should please the Almig^lity to put an arrest on those mo- mentary outf^oings of life which ilow from himself, and permeate the uni- verse, he would instantly once more be alone in infinity, and one vast bankrupt- cy of being overspread all the provin- ces of creation. There seems no rea- son, if we may thus speak, in the nature of things, why the soul should not die. Her life is a derived and dependent life; and that which is derived and de- pendent may, of course, cease to be, at the will of the author and upholder. And it is far beyond us to ascertain what term of being would have been assigned to the soul, had there arisen no champion and surety of the fallen. We throw ourselves into a region of speculation, across which there runs no discernible pathway, when we inquire whether there would have been an an- nihilation, supposing there had not been a redemption of nian. We can only say, that the soul has not, and cannot have, any more than the body, the sources of vitality in herself. We can, therefore, see the possibility, if not prove the certainty, that it is only because " the word was made flesh," John, 1 : 1 4, and struggled for us and died, that the human spirit is unquench- able, and that the principle, which dis- tinguishes us from the brutes, shall re- tain everlastingly its strength and its majesty. But without travelling into specula- tive questions, we wish to take our text as a revelation, or announcement, of the immoitality of the soul ; and to ex- amine how, by joining the terms, resur- rection and life, Christ made up what was wanting in the calculations of na- tui'al religion, when turned on deter- mining this grand article of fliith. Now with this as our chief object of discourse, we shall endeavor, in the first place, to show briefly the accuracy with which Christ may be designated " the Resurrection." We shall then, in the second place, attempt to prove, that the resurrection of the body is a great element in the demonstration of " the life," the immortality of the soul. We begin by reminding you of a fact, not easily overlooked, that the resur- rection is, in the very strictest sense, a conse(juen(te on redemption. Had nut Christ undertaken the suretyship of our race, there would never have come a time when the dead shall be raised. If there had been no interposition on be- half of the fallen, whatever had become of the souls of men, their boe deficient, and how the statement of our text supplied what was wanting. Now we see no better method of pro- secuting this inquiry, than the putting one's self into the position of a man who has no guidance but that of natu- THE DOCTRINE OF THE UF.SURRECTION. 57 ral relii^ion. If there li.ad never shone on me the bciims of the Gosjiel, ;in pour forth a torrent of lustre on the life, the everlasting life of man, oh, he did not bid the firmament cleave asun- der, and the constellations of eternity shine out in their ma-jcsties, and daz- zle and blind an overawed creation. He I'osc up, a moral giant, frf)m his gi-ave- clothes ; and, proving death van- quished in his own stronghold, left the vacant sepulchre as a centre of light to the dwellers on this planet. He took not the suns and systems which crowd immensity in order to form one brilliant cataract, which, rushing down in its glories, might sweep away darkness from the benighted race of the apos- tate. But he came forth from tlic tomb, masterful and victorious ; and the place where he had lain became the focus of the rays of the long-hidden truth ; and the fragments of his grave-stone were the stai-s from which Hashed the im- mortality of man. It was by teaching men that they should rise again, it was by being him- self " the resurrection," that he taught them they should live the life of im- mortality. This was bringing the miss- ing element into the attempted demon- stration ; for this was proving that the complete man shall stand to be judged at the judgment-seat of Clod, And thus it is, we again say. that the combina tion of titles in our text makes the pas- sage an intelligible revelation of the soul's immortality. And prophets might have stood upon the carlh, pi-oclaiming to the nations that every individual carried within himself a principle iin- pe-rishable and unconquerable; they might have spoken of a vast and so- lemn scene of assize ; and they might have conjured men by the bliss and tho gloiy, the lire and the shame of never- ending allotments : but dT>ubt and un- certainty must have overcast the fu- ture, unless they couldTiave bidden their audience anticipate a time when the whole globe, its mountains, its de- serts, its cities, its oceans, shall seem resolved into the elements of human- kiiul ; and millions of eyes look up from a million chasms; and long-severed s])i- rits rush down to the very tenements which encased them in the days of pro-, Tlin DOCTRINE or Tin; RKSLRRCCTIO.V. 59 oatioi/ ; iiy, prophets would have spo- ken ill vaui of judgment und ininiorlali- ty, niilos.s they could have tohl out tliis marvellous leaping into life of whatso- ever hath been man; and never could the cloud and the mist have been rolled away from the boundless hereafter, had there not arisen a being who could de- clare, and make good the declaration, "I am the resurrection and the life." Now we have been induced to treat on the inspiring words of our text by the consideration that death has, of late, been unusually busy in our metropolis and its environs, and that, therefore, such a subject of address seemed pe- culiarly calculated to interest your feel- ings. We thank thee, and wc praise thee, O Lord our Redeemer, that thou hast " abolished death." 2 Timothy, 1 : 10. We laud and magnify thy glorious name, that thou hast wrestled with our tyrant in the citadel of his empire ; and that,- if we believe upon thee, death has, for us, been spoiled of its power, so that, " O death, where is thy sting, O grave-, where is thy victory V 1 Cor. 15: 55, may burst from our lips as we expect the dissolution of " our earthly house of this tabernacle." 2 Cor. 5 : 1. What is it but sin, unpardoned and wrath-deserving sin, which gives death its fearfulness 'i It is not the mere se- paration of soul from body, though we own this to be awful and unnatural, worthy man's abhorrence, as causing him, for a while, to cease to be man. It is not the reduction of this flesh into original elements, earth to earth, fire to fire, water to water, which makes death so terrible, compelling the most stout- hearted to shrink back fi'om his ap- proaches. It is because death is a con- sequence of sin, and this one conse- quence involves others a thousand-fold more tremendous — a sea of anger, and waves of fire, and the desperate anguish of a storm-tossed spirit — it is on this account that death is appalling : and they who could contentedly, and even cheerfully, depart from a world which has mocked them, and deceived them, and wearied them, oh, they cannot face a God whom they have disobeyed, and neglected, and scorned. And if, then, there be the taking away of sin ; if iniquity be blotted out as a cloud, and transgression as a thick cloud ; is not all its bitterness abstract- ed from death 1 And if, yet fiirlher, in addition to the ])ardon of sin, there have been im[)arted to man a " right to the tree of life," Ilev. 22 : 11, so that there arc reserved for him in hea- ven the splendors of immortality; is not the terrible wrenched away i'rom death 1 But is not sin pardoned tlirough the blood-shedding of Jesus; and is not glory secured to us through the inter- cession of Jesus 1 And where then is the tongue bold enough to deny, that death is virtually abolished unto those who believe on " the resuiTCction and the life ? " Oh, the smile can rest bright- ly on a dying man's cheek, and the words of rapture can flow from his lij)s, and his eye can be on angel forms waiting to take charge of his spirit, and his ear can catch the minstrelsy of cherubim ; and what are these but trophies — cori' querors of earth, and statesmen, and phi- losophers, can ye match these lroj)hies 1 — of "the resurrection and the life?" We look not, indeed, always for tri- umph . and rapture on the death-beds of the righteous. We hold it to be wrong to exjject, necessarily, encou- ragement for ourselves from good men in the act of dissolution. They require encouragement. Christ, when in his agony, did not strengthen others : he needed an angel to strengthen himself. But if there be not ecstasy, thei-e is that composedness, in departing believers, which shows that " the everlasting arms," Deut. o3 : 27, are under them and around them. It is a beautiful thing to see a christian die. The confession, whilst there is strength to articulate, that God is faithful to his promises; the faint pressure of the hand, giving the same testimony when the tongue can no longer do its office ; the motion of the lips, inducing you to bend do\\Ti, so that you catch broken syllables of expressions such as this, " come, Lord Jesus, come quickly ; " these make the chamber in which the righteous die one of the most privileged scenes ujion earth ; and he who can be jirescnt, and gather no assurance that death is fet- tered and manacled, even whilst grasp- ing the believer, must be either inacces- sible to moral evidence, or insensible to the most heart-touching appeal. One after another is AvitlHliaA\n from the church below, and heaven is gather- ing into its capacious bosom the com- 60 THE DOCXniNE OF TUG RESURRECTION. pany of the justified. We feel our loss, when those whose experience quali- fied them to teach, and whose life was a fccrinou to a neighborhood, are re- moved to the courts of the church above. Jiut we " sorrow not, even as others which have no hope," 1 Thess. 4 : 13, as we mark the breachos which death makes on the right hand and on the left. Wc may, indeed, think that " the righteous is taken away from the evil to coinc," Isaiah, 57 : 1, and that we ourselves are le!l to struggle through approaching days of fear and perplex^ity. Be it so. We are not alone. He who is " the resurrection and the life " leads us on to the battle and the grave, [t might acccnd better with our natural feelings, that they who have in- structed us by example, and cheered by exhortation, should remain to coun- sel and to animate, when the tide of war swells highest, and the voice of blasphemy is loudest. We feel that we can but ill spare the matured piety of the veteran Christian, and the glowing devotion of younger disciples. Yet we will say with Asa. when there came against him Zerah the Ethiopian, with an host of an hundred thousand and three hundred chariots, " Lord, it is nothing with thee to help whether with many, or with them that have no power; help us, O Lord our God, for we rest on thee, and in thy name we go against this multitude." 2 Chron. 14: 11. " The resurrection and the life," these are thy magnificent titles, Captain of our salvation ! And, therefore, we com- mit to thcc body and soul ; for thou hast redeemed both, and thou wilt ad- vance both to the noblest and most splendid of portions. Wlio quails and shrinks, scared by the despotism of death ( Who amongst you fears the dishing! of those cold black waters which roll between us and the promised land ] Men and brethren, grasp your own privileges. Men and brethren, Christ Jesus has " abolished death :" will ye, by your faithlessness, throw strength into the skeleton, and give back empire to the dethroned and de- stroyed i Yes, " the resurrection and the life " " abf)lishcd death." Ye must indeed die, and so far death remains undestroyed. But if the terrible be de- stroyed when it can no longer terrify, and if the injurious be destroyed when 1 it can no longer injure ; if the enemy \ be abolished when it does the work or [ a friend, and if the tyrant be abolished j when performing the offices of a ser- vant ; if the repulsive be destroyed when we can welcome it, and if tho I odious be destroyed when we can em- brace it ; if the quicksand be abolished I when we can walk it and sink not ; if the fire be abolished when we can pass through it and be scorched not ; if the poison be abolished when we can drink it and be hurt not ; then is dt;ath de- stroyed, then is death abolished, to all who believe on " the resurrection and the life ;" and the noble prophecy is fulfilled (bear witness, ye groups of the ransomed, bending down from your high citadel of triumph), " O Death, I will be thy plagues ; O Grave, I will be thy destruction." Hosea, 13 : 11. " I heard a voice from heaven " — oh, for the angel's tongue that words so beautiful might have all their melodious- ness — " saying unto me, write, blessed are the dead which die in the Lord from henceforth : yea, saith the Spirit, that they may rest from their labors, and their works do follow them." Rev. 11 : 13. It is yet but a little while, and we shall be delivered from the burden and the conflict, and, Avith all those who have preceded~us in the righteous strug- gle, enjoy the deep raptures of a Media- tor's presence. Then, re-united to the friends with whom we took sweet coun- sel upon earth, we shall recount our toil only to heighten our ecstasy ; and call to mind the tug and the din of war, only that, with a more bounding throb, and a richer song, we may leel and celebrate the wonders of redemption. And when the morning of the first resurrection breaks on this long-dis- ordered and groaning creation, then shall our text be understood in all its majesty, and in all its marvel : and then shall the words, whose syllables iningle so often with the funeral knell that wo are disposed to carve them on the cy- press-tree rather than on the palm,. " I am the resurrection and the life," foi-m the chorus of that noble anthem, which those for wliom Clirist "died and rose and revived," Rom. 1 I : 0, shall chant as they march from judgment to glory. We add nothing more. We show you the privileges of the rightcious. \Ve toll you, that if you would die thai. THE rOWKR or WICKEONKSS. 61 death, you must live their life. And, conjuring you, by the memory of those who have gone hence in the faith of the Redeemer, that ye " run witli pa- tience the race set before you," Ilel). 12 : 1, we send you to your homes with the comforting: words which succeed our text, " he that belicvetli on mo, though li(! were dead, yet shall he live ; and whosoever liveth and bclieveth in mo shall never die ; believest thou this 1 " God forbid there shouhl be one of you refusing to answer with Martha, " yea, Lord, yea." SERMON VI. THE POWER OF WICKEDNESS AND RIGHTEOUSNESS TO RE- PRODUCE THEMSELVES. For whatsocvpr !i man sowetli, that sliall he also reap." — Gal. vi. 7. You may be all aware that what is termed the argument from analogy has been carried out to great length by thinking men, and that much of the strongest witness for Christianity has been won on this fieVl of investigation. It is altogether a most curious and pro- fitable inquiry, which sets itself to the tracing out resemblances between na- tural and spiritual things, and which thus proposes to establish, at the least, a probability that creation and Chris- tianity have one and the same author. And we think that we shall not over- step the limits of truth, if we declare that nature wears the appearance of having been actually designed for the illustration of the Bible. We believe that he who, with a devout mind, searches most diligently into the beauties and mysteries of the material world, will fiml himself met constantly by exhibi- tions, which seem to him the pages of Scripttire written in the stars, and the forests, and the waters, of this creation. There is such a sameness of dealing, characteristic of the natural and the spintual, that the Bible may be read in the outspread of the landscape, and the operations of agriculture : whilst, con- versely, the laws obeyed by this earth and its productions may be traced as pervading the appointments of revela- tion. It were beside our purpose to go at len"-th into demonstration of this coincidence. But you may all perceive, assuming its existence, that the fur- nished argument is clear and convinc- iufT. If there run the same principle through natural and spiritual things, throufi'h the book of nature and the Bi- ble, we vindicate the same authorship to both, and prove, with an almost geo- metric precision, that the God of crea- tion is also the God of Christianity. I look on the natural firmament with its glorious inlay of stars ; and it is unto me as the breastplate of the great high- priest, " ardent with gems oracular," from which, as from the urim and thum- mim on Aaron's ephod, come messa- ges full of divinity. And when I turn to the page of Scripture, and perceive the nicest resemblance between the characters in which this page is writ- ten, and those which glitter before mo on the crowded concave, I feel that, in trusting myself to the decla;-ations of the Bible, I cling to Him who speaks to me fi-om every point, and by every splendor of the visible universe, whose voice is in the marchings of planets, 62 THK rn\VF.R OF WICKEDNESS. and the, rushing of whose melodies is in the wings of the day-Hght. But, though we go not into the ge- neral inquiry, wc take one great prin- ciple, tlie principle of a resurrection, and we affirm, in illustration of what has been advanced, that it rurus alike through God's natural and spiritual dealings. Just as God halh appointed that man's hody, afier moldering away, shall come forth quickened and renew- ed, so h:is he oVdained that the seed, after corrupting in the ground, shall yield a hai-vcst of the like kind witli itself It is, moreover, God's ordinary course to allow an apparent destruction as preparatory, or introductory to, com- plete success or renovation. lie does not permit the springing up, until there has been, on human calculation, a tho- rough withering away. So that the maxim might be shown to hold univer- sally good, " that which thou sovvest is not quickened, except it die." 1 Cor. 15 : 3G. We may observe yet further, that, as with the husbandman, if he sow the corn, ho shall reap the corn, and if he sow the weed, he shall reap the weed ; thus with myself as a responsi- ble agent, if I sow the corruptible, I shall reap the corruptible ; and If I sow the Imperishable, 1 shall reap the im- perishable. The seed reproduces itself This Is the fact in reference to spiritual things, on which we would fasten your attention ; " whatsoever a man sovveth, that shall he also reap." Now we are all, to a certain extent, familiar with this principle ; for it is forced on our notice by every-day oc- currences. We observe that a disso- lute and reckless youth is ordinarily followed by a premature and miserable old age. We see that honesty and in- dustry win commonly comfort and re- spect ; and that, on the contrary, levity and a want of carcl'iilnoss j)rodLice pau- perism and disrepute. And yet further, unless we go over to the ranks of iuH- dellty, we cannot question that a course of disol)edieTice to God is earning man's eternal destruction; whilst, through submission to the revealed will of his Master, there is secured admittance into a glorious heritage. We arc tlius awa,re that then; runs through the Crea- tors dealings with our race the prin- ciple of an identity, or sameness, be- tween the thinirs which n)au sows and those which he reaps. But we thii k it possible that we may have contented ourselves with too superficial a view of this principle ; and that, through not searching into what may be termed it3 philosophy, we allow much that is im- portant to elude obsen'ation. The seed sown in the earth goes on, as it were, by a sort of natural process, and without di- rect intezference from God, to yield seed of the same description with itself And we wish it well obsen^ed, whether there be not in spiritual things an analogy the most perfect to what thus takes place in natural. We think that, upon a care- ful examination, you will find ground- work of belief that the simile holds good in every possible rcsjiect : so that what a man sows, if left to its own ve- getating powers, will yield, naturally, a harvest of its own kind and descrip- tion. We shall study to establish this point in regard, first, to the present scene of probation ; and, secondly, to the future scene of recompense. ^Ve begin with the present scene ot probation, and will put you in j)osses- sion of the exact point to be made out, by referring you to the instance of Pha- raoh. We know that whilst God was acting on the Egyptians by the awful apparatus of plague and prodigy, he is oilen said to have haidcncd Piiaraoh's heart, so that the monarch refused to let Israel go. And it is a great ques- tion to decide, whether God actually interfered to strengthen and confirm the obstinacy of Pharaoh, or only left the king to the workings of his own heart, as knowing that one degree of unbe- lief would generate another and a stanchcr. It sesms to us at variance with all that is revealed of the Creator, to suppose him urging on the wicked in his wickedness, or bringing any en- gine to bear on the ungodly whicli shall make them more desperate in rebellion. God willeth not the death of any sin- ner. And though, after long striving with an individual, after plying him with the various excitements wlilch ar6 best calculated to stir a rational, and agitate an immortal being, he may with- draw all the aids of the Spirit, and so give him over to that worst of all ty- rants, himself; yet this, we contend, must be the extreme thing ever done by the Almiglity to man, the leaving TIIK POWER OP WICKEDNESS. 63 him, but not the constraining him, to tlu evil. And when, therefore, it is said that God hardened Pharaoh's heart, and when the expression is repeated, so as to mark a continued and on-going liar- dening, we have no other idea of the moaning, than that God, moved by the :bstinacy of Pharaoh, -withdrew from him, gradually, all the restraints of his grace ; and that as these restraints were more and more removed, the heart of the king was more and more hai'dened. \Vc look upon the instance as a precise illustration of the truth, that " whatso- ever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." Phai'aoh sowed obstinacy, and Pharaoh reaped obstinacy. The seed was put into the soil ; and there was no need, any more than with the grain of corn, that God should interfere with any new power. Nothing more Avas required than that the seed should be left to vegetate, to act out its own na- ture. And though God, had he pleased, might have counteracted, this nature, yet, when he resolved to give up Pha- raoh to his unbelief, he had nothing to do but to let alone this nature. The seed of infidelity, which Pharaoh had sown when he rejected the first miracles, was left to itself, and to its own vegeta- tion. It sent up, accordingly, a harvest of its own kind, a harvest of infidelity, and Pharaoh was not to be persuaded by any of the subsequent miracles. iSo that, when the monarch went on from one degree of hardness to another, till at length, advancing through the cold ranks of the prostrated first-born, he pursued, across a blackened and devas- tated territory, the people for whose emancipation there had been the visible making bare of the arm of Omnipo- tence, he was not an instance — perish the thought — of a man compelled by his Maker to offend and be lost ; but simply a witness to the truth of the principle, tliat " whatsoever a man sow- eth, that shall he also reap." Now that which took place in the case of this Egyptian is, we argue, pre- cisely what occurs in regard generally to the impenitent. God destroys no man. Every man who is destroyed must destroy himself When a man stifles an admonition of conscience, he may fairly be said to sow the stiflings of conscience. And when conscience admonishes him the next time, it will bo more feebly and faintly. There will be a less diflicidty in ov(!rpi>werin!]; the admonition. And the fijcbleness of re- monstrance, and the facility of resist- ance, will increase on every repetition; not because God interferes to make the man callous, but because the thing sown was stifling of conscience, and there- fore the thing reaped is stifling of con- science. The Holy Spirit strives with every man. Conscience is but the voice of Deity heard above the din of human passions. But let conscience be resist- ed, and the Spirit is grieved. Then, as \vith Pliaraoh, there is an abstraction of that influence by which evil is kept under. And thus there is a less and less counteraction to the vegetating power of the seed, and, therefore, a more and more abundant upspringing of that which was sown. So that, though there must be a direct and mighty in- terference of Deity for the salvation of a man, there is no such interference for his destruction. God must sow the seed of regeneration, and enable man, according to the phraseology of the verse succeeding our text, to sow " to the Spirit." But man sows for himself the seed of impenitence, and of himself, " he soweth to his flesh." And what he sows, he reaps. If, as he grows older, he grow more confirmed in his wicked- ness ; if warnings come upon him with less and less energy; if the solemni- ties of the judgment lose more and more their power of alarming him, and the terrors of hell their power of aflrighting him ; why, ^the man is nothing else but an exhibition of the thickening of the harvest of which himself sowed the seed ; and he puts forth, in this his con- firmed and settled impenitence, a de- monstration, legible by every careful observer, that there needs no apparatus for the turning a man gradually from the clay to the adamant, over and above the apparatus of his own heart, left to itself, an^l let alone to harden. We greatly desire that you should rightly understand what the agency is through which the soul is destroyed. It is not that God hath sent out a de- cree against a man. It is not that he throws a darkness before his eyes which cannot bo penetrated, and a dullness into his blood which cannot be thawed, and a torpor into his limbs which can- not be overcome. Harvest-time bring 64 THE POWER OF WICKEDNESS. ing .in abundant produce of what was sowTj in tlio seed-time — this, we con- tend, is the sum-total of the mystery. God interferes not, as it were, with the processes of nature. He opposes not, or, to speak more correctly, he with- draws gradually his opposition to, the vegetation of the seed. And this is all. There is nothing more needed. You resist a motion of the Spirit. Well then, this facilitates further resistance. He who has roi^isted once will have less difficulty in resisting the second time, and less than that the third time, and less than that the fourth time. So that there comes a harvest of resistances, and all from the single grain of the first resistance. You indulge yourself once in a known sin. Why you will be more easily overpowered by the second temp- tation, and again more easily by the third, and again more easily by the fourth. And what is this but a harvest of sinful indulgences, and all from the one grain of the first indulgence ? You omit some portion of spiritual exer- cises, of prayer, or of the study of the word. The omission will grow upon you. You will omit more to-morrow% and more the next day, and still more the next. And thus there will be a har- vest of omissions, and all from the soli- tary grain of the first omission. And if, through the germinating ])Ower of that which man sows, he proceed natu- rally from bad to worse; if resistance j)roduce resistance, and indulgence in- dulgence, and omission omission ; shall it be denied that the sinner, throughout the whole history of his experience, throughout his |i.rogrcss across the waste of woi'ldliness and obduracy and impenitence — passing on, as he does, to successive stages of indiflferencc to God, and fool-hardiness, and reckless- ness — is nothing else but the mower of the fruits of his own husbandry, and thus witnesses, with a power which out- does all the power of langtyige, that " whatsoever a maii sowcth, that shall he also i-eap 1 " It is in this manner that we go into what we term the philosophy of our text, when applit^l to tire present scene of probation. We take the seed in the soil. We show you that, by a natural process, without the interference of God, and simply through his ceasing to counteract the tendencies, there is pro- duced a wide crop of the same grain as was sown. And thus — all kinds of op- position to God jnopagating llicmselvea — he who becomes wrought up mto an infidel hardihood, or lulled into a se- pulchral apathy, is nothing but the sow- er living on to be the reaper, the hus- bandman in the successive stages of an agriculture, wherein the ploughing^ and the jdanting, and the gathering, are all his o^^'n achievement and all his o^vii destruction. Now we have confined ourselves to the supposition that the thing sown is wickedness. But you will .^ee at once, that, with a mere verbal alteration, whatever has been advanced illustrates our text when the thing sown is righ- teousness. If a man resist temptation, there will be a fiicility of resisting ever augmenting as he goes on with self- denial. Every new achievement of princij)lo will smooth the way to future achievements of the like kind; and the fruit of each moral victory — for we may consider the victory as a seed that is sown — is to place us on loftier vantage- ground for the triumphs of righteous- ness in days yet to come. We cannot ])erforni a virtuous act without gaining fresh sinew for the service of virtue; just as we cannot perform a vicious, without riveting faster to ourselves the fetters of vice. And, assuredly, if there be thus such a growing strength in ha- bit that every action makes way for its repetition, we may declare of virtue and righteousness that they reproduce themselves ; and is not this the same thing as proving that wh'h.t we sow, that also do ^ve reap ? We would yet further remark, un- der this head of discourse, that the jirin- ciple of reaping what we sow js spe- cially to be traced through all the work- ings of philanthropy. We are persuaded that, if an eminently charitable man experienced great reverse of circmn stances, so that from having beer the affluent and the benefactor he befumo the needy and de])endent, he would at- tract towards himself in his distress, all the sympathies of a neighborhood. And whilst the great man, who had had nothing but his greatness to recom- mend liim, would be unpitied or un- cared-for in disaster ; and the avari- cious man, who had grasped tightly his wealth, would meet only ridicule THE POWER OF WICKEDNESS. 65 when it had escaped from his hold ; the philanthropic man, who had used his riclies as a steward, would form, in his jienury, a sort of focus for the kind- liness of a thousand hearts ; and multi- tudes would press forward to tender him the succor which he had once given to others ; and thus there would be a mighty reaping into his own gra- naries of that very seed which ho had been assiduous in sowing. We go on to observe that it is the marvellous property of spiritual things, though we can scarcely affirm it of na- tural, that the effort to teach them to others, gives enlargement to our own sphere of information. We are per- suaded that the most experienced Chris- tian cannot sit down with the neglected and grossly ignorant laborer — nay, not with the child in a Sunday or infant- school — and strive to explain and en- force the gz-eat truths of the Bible, with- out finding his own views of the Gospel amplified and cleared through this en- gagement in the business of tuition. The mere trying to make a point plain to another, will oftentimes make it far plainer than ever to ourselves. In illus- trating a doctrine of Scripture, in en- deavoring to bring it down to the level of a weak or undisciplined understand- ing, you will find that doctrine present- ing itself to your own minds with a new power and unimagined beauty ; and though you may have read the standard writers on theology, and mas- tered the essays of the most learned divines, yet shall such fresh and vigor- ous apprehensions of truth be derived often from the effort to press it home on the intellect and conscience of the ignorant, that you shall pronounce the cottage of the untaught peasant your best school-house, and the questions even of a child your most searching catechisings on the majestic and mys- terious things of our faith. And as you tell over to the poor cottager the story of the incarnation and crucifixion, and inform him of the nature and effects of Adam's apostacy; or even find your- self required to adduce more elemen- tary truths, pressing on the neglected man the being of a God, and tbe im- mortality of the soul ; oh, it shall con- stantly occur that you will feel a keener sense than ever of the precicusness of Christ, or a greater awe at the majes- ties of Jehovah, or a loftier bounding of spirit at the thought of your own deathlcssness : and if you feel tempted to count it strange that in teaching another you teach also yourself, and that you carry away from your inter- course with the mechanic, or the child, such an accession to your own know- ledge, or your own love, as shall seem to make you the indebted party, and not the oljliging ; then you have only to remember — and the remembrance will sweep away surprise — that it is a fixed appointment of the Almighty, that " whatsoever a man sowcth, that shall he also reap." In respect, moreover, to alms-giving, we may assert that there is evidently such a present advantage in communi- cating of our temporal good things, that the giver becomes the receiver, and thus the principle under review finds a fresh illustration. The general comfort and security of society depend so greatly on the well-being of the lower orders, that the rich consult most for themselves when they consult most for the poor. There must be restless- ness and anxiety in the palace, whilst misery oppresses the great mass of a population. And every effort to increase the happiness, and heighten the charac- ter of the poor, will tell powerfully on the condition of those by whom it is made, seeing that the contentment and good order of the peasantry of a conn try give value to the revenues of its nobles and merchants. Por our own part, we never look on a public hospi- tal or infirmary, we never behold the alms-houses into which old age may be received, and the asylums which have been thrown up on all sides for the widow and the orphan, without feel- ing that, however generously the rich come forward to the relief of the poor, they advantage themselves whilst pro- viding for the suffering and destitute. These buildings, which are the best diadem of our country, not only bring blessings on the land, by serving, it may be, as electrical conductors which turn from us many flashes of the light- ning of wrath ; but, being as centres whence succors are sent through dis- tressed portions of our comnmnity, they are fostenng-places of kindly dis positions towards the wealthier ranks and may, therefore, be so considered 66 THE POWER OF WICKED?fESS. as structures in which a kingdom's prosperity is nur*ed, that the fittest in- scription over tneir gateways would be this, " whatsoever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." Now before we turn to the second topic of discourse, we would make a close application of some of our fore- going statements. You perceive the likelihood, or rather the certainty, to be, that in all cases, thei-e will be a self-propagating power in evil, so that the wrong done shall be parent to a line of misdoings. We have shown you, for example, that to stifle a conviction is the first step in a pathway which leads directly to stupefaction of con- science. And we desire to fasten on this fact, and so to exhibit it that all may discern their near concernment therewith. We remark that men will flock in crowds to the j)ublic preach- ino: of the word, though the master natural passion, whatsoever it be, re- tain undisputed the lordship of their spirits. And this passion may be ava- rice, or it may be voluptuousness, or ambition, or envy, or pride. But, how- ever characterized, the dominant lust is brought into the sanctuary, and ex- posed, so to speak, to the exorcisms of the preacher. And who shall say what a disturbing force the sermon will of- tentimes put forth against the master- passion ; and how frequently the word of the living God, delivered in earnest- ness and aflection, shall have almost made a breach in the strong-holds of Satan 1 Ay, we believe that often, when a minister, gathering himself up in the strength of his master, launches the thunderbolts of truth against vice and unrighteousness, there is a vast stirring of heart through the listening asseml)ly ; and that as he reasons of " righteousness, temperance, and judg- ment to come," Acts, 24 : 25, though the natural ear catch no sounds of anx- iety and alarm, attendant angels, who watch the workings of the Gospel, hear the deep beatings of many souls, and almost start at the bounding throb of aroused and agitated spirits. If Satan ever tremble for his ascendency, it is when the preacher has riveted the at- tention of tlie unconverted individual; and, after descriliing and denouncing the covetous, or pouring out the tor- rents of his speech on an exhibition of the voluptuary, or exposing the mad ness and misery of the proud, comes down on that individual with the start- ling announcement, " thou art the man." And the individual goes away from the sanctuary, convinced of the necessity of subduing the master-passion ; and he will form, and for a while act upon, the i-esolution of wrestling against pride, or of mortifying lust, or of renouncing avarice. But he proceeds in his own strength, and, having no consciousness of the inabilities of his nature, seeks not to God's Spirit for assistance. In a little time, therefore, all the impres- sion wears away. He saw only the danger of sin : he went not on to see its vileness. And the mind soon habi- tuates itself, or soon grows indifferent, to the contemplation of danger, and, above all, when perhaps distant. Hence the man will return quickly to his old haunts. And whether it be to money- making that he again gives himself, or to sensuality, or to ambition, he will enter on the pursuit with an eagerness heightened by abstinence; and thus the result shall be practically the same, as though, having sown moral stupor, he were reaping in a harvest tremendous- ly luxuriant. And, oh, if the man, after this renouncement, and restoration, of the master-passion, come again to the sanctuary ; and if again the preacher denounce, with a righteous vehemence, every working of ungodliness ; and the fire be in his eye, and the thunder on his tongue, as he makes a stand for God, and for truth, against a reckless and semi-infidel generation ; alas ! the man who has felt convictions and sown their stiflings, will be more inaccessible than ever, and more impei-vious. He will have been hardened through the vegetating process which has gone on in his soul. A far mightier apparatus than before will be required to make the lightest impression. And when you think that there the man is now sitting, unmoved by the terrors of the word ; that he can listen with indifference to the very truths which once agitated him ; and that, as a consequence on the reproduction of the seed, there is more of the marble in his com})osition than before, and more of the ice, and more of the iron, so that the likelihood of salvation is fearfully diminished ; ye can need no other warning against tri- THE POWER OF WICKEDNESS. €7 fling with convictions, and thus mak- ing light of the appointment, that " what- Boever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." But we proposed to examine, in the second place, the application of the principle of our text to the future scene of recompense. There can be no ques- tion that the reference of the apostle is, specially, to the retributions of another state of being. The present life is em- phatically the seed-time, the next life the harvest-time. And the matter we now have in hand is the ascertaining, whether it be by the natural process of the thing sown yielding the thing reap- ed, that- sinfulness here shall give tor- ment hereafter. You will observe that, in showing the application of the principle under re- view to the present scene of probation, we proved that the utmost which God does towards confirming a man in im- penitence is the leaving him to himself, the withdrawing from him gradually the remonstrances of his Spirit. The man is literally his own hardener, and, there- fore, literally his own destroyer. And we now inquire, whether or no he will be his own punisher? We seem requir- ed, if we would maintain rigidly the principle of our text, to suppose that what is reaped in the future shall be identical with what is sown in the pre- sent. It cannot be questioned that this is a fair representation. The seed i-e- produces itself. It is the same grain which the sower scatters, and the reap- er collects. We may, therefore, lay it down as the statement of our text, that what is reaped in the next life shall be literally of the same kind with what is sown in this life. But if this be correct, it must follow that a man's sinfulness shall be a man's punishment. And there is no lack of scriptural evidence on the side of the opinion, that the leaving the wicked, throughout eternity, to their mutual recriminations, to the workings and boilings of overwrought jiassions, to the scorpion-sting of an undying re- morse, and all the native and inborn agonies of vice — that this, without the interference of a divinely-sent ministry of vengeance, may make that pandemo- nium which is sketched to us by all that is terrible and ghastly in imagery ; and that tormenting, only through giv- ing up the siuner to be his own tor- mentor, God may fulfil all the ends of a retributive etonomy, awarding to wickedness its, merited condemnation, and displaying to the universe the dreadfulness of rebellion. It may be, we say, that there shall be required no direct interferences on the part of God. It may be that the Al- mighty shall not commission an aveng- ing train to goad and lacerate the lost. The sinner is hardened by being left to himself; and may it not be that the sin^ ner shall be pvmished by being left to himself? We think assuredly that the passage before us leads straightway to such a conclusion. We may have ha- bituated ourselves to the idea that God shall take, as it were, into his own hands the punishment of the condemn- ed, and that, standing over them as the executioner of the sentence, he will visit body and soul with the inflictions of wrath. But it consists far better with the character of God, that judg- ment should be viewed as the natural produce of sinfulness, so that, without any divine interference, the sinfulness will generate the judgment. Let sin- fulness alone, and it will become pun ishment. Such is, probably, the true account of this awful matter. The thing reaped is the thing sown. And if the thing sown be sinfulness, and if the thing reaped be punishment, then the punishment, after all, must be the sin- fulness ; and that fearful apparatus of torture which is spoken of in Scripture, the apparatus of a worm that dieth not, and of a fire that is not quenched ; this may be just a man's own guilt, the things sown in this mortal life sprung up and waving in an immortal harvest. We think this a point of great moment. It were comparatively little to say of an individual who sells himself to work evil, 'and carries it with a high hana and a brazen front against the Lord of the whole earth, that he shuts himself up to a certain and definite destruction. The thrilling truth is, that, in working iniquity, he sows for himself anguish. He gives not way to a new desire, he allows not a fresh victory to lust, with- out multiplying the amount of final tor- ment. By every excursion of passion, and by every indulgence of an unhal- lowed craving, and by all the misdoings of a hardened or dissolute life, he may be literally said to pour into the grana* 68 THE POWER OF WICKEDNESS. ry of his future destinies the goads and stings which shall madden his spirit. He lays up more food for self-reproach. He \^•idens the field over which thought will pass in bitterness, and mow down remorse. He teaches the worm to be ingenious in excruciating, by tasking his wit that he may be ingenious in sin- ning — for some men, as the prophet saith, and it is a wonderful expression — " are wise to do evil." Jer. 4 : 22. And thus, his iniquities opening, a» it were, Iresh inlets for the approaches of vensreance, with the (growth of wicked- ness will be the growth of punishment ; and at last it will appear that his resist- ance to convictions, his neglect of op- portunities, and his determined enslave- ment to evil, have literally worked for him " a far more exceeding and eternal weight " of despair. But even this expi-esses not clearly and fully what seems taught by our text. We are searching for an identity, or sameness, between what is sown and what is reaped. We, therefore, yet fur- ther observe that it may not be need- ful that a material rack should be j^re- pared for the body, and fiery spirits g^iaw upon the soul. It may not be needful that the Creator should appoint distinct and extraneous arrangements for torture. Let what we call the hus- bandry of wickedness go forward; let the sinner reap what the sinner has sown; and there is a harvest of anguish for ever to be gathered. Who discerns not that punishment may thus be sin- fulness, and that, therefore, the princi- ple of our text may hold good, to the very letter, in a scene of retribution l A man " sows to the flesh : " this is the apostle's description of sinfulness. He is " of the flesh to reap coiTuption:" this is his description of punishment. He " sows to the flesh " by pampering the lusts of the flesh ; and he " reaps of the flesh," when these pampered lusts fall on him with fresh cravings, and de- mand of him fresh gratifications. But suppose this reaping continued in the next life, and is not the man mowino^ down a harvest of agony 1 Let all those passions and desires which it has been the man's business upon oartli to in- dulge, hunger and thirst for gratification hereafter, and will ye seek elsewhere for the parched tongue beseeching fruitlessly one drop of water 1 Let the envious man keep his envy, and the jealous man his jealousy, and the re- vengeful man his revengefulness ; and each has a worm which shall eat out everlastingly the very core of his soul. Let the miser have still his thoughts upon gold, and the drunkard his upon the wine-cup, and the sensualist his up- on voluptuousness ; and a fire-sheet is round each which shall never be ex- tinguished. We know not whether it be possible to conjure up a more ten'i- fic image of a lost man, than by sup- posing him everlastingly preyed upon by the mastei'-lust which has here held him in bondage. We think that you have before you the spectacle of a be- ing, hunted, as it were, by a never- weared fiend, when you imagine that there rages in the licentious and profli- gate — only wrought into a fury which has no parallel upon earth — that very passion which it was the concern of a life-time to indulge, but Avhich it must now be the employment of an eternity to deny. We are persuaded that you reach the summit of all that is tremen- dous in conception, when you suppose a man consigned to the tyranny of a lust which cannot be conquered, and which cannot be gratified. It is, liter- ally surrendering him to a worm which dies not, to a fire which is not quenched. And whilst the lust does the part of a ceaseless tormentor, the man, unable longer to indulge it, will wiithe in re- morse at having endowed it with sov- ereignty : and thus there will go on (though not in our j)ower to conceive, and, O G-od, grant it may never be our lot to experience) the cit.vings of pas- sion with the self-reproachings ">f the soul ; and the torn and tossed t ature shall for ever long to gratify lust, and for ever bewail his madness in gratify- ing it. Now you must perceive that in thus sketching the possible nature of future retribution, we only show that " what- soever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." We prove that sinfulness may be punishment, so that the things reaped shall be identical with the things sown, according to the word of the prophet Hosea, " they have sown the wind, and they shall reap the whirlwind." Ilosca, 8 : 7. We reckon tliat the principle of our text, when rigidly applied, requires us to sujipose the retribution of the un- THE POWER OP WICKEDNESS. 69 godly the natural produce of their ac- tions. It shall not, perhaps, be that God will interpose with an apparatus of judgments, any more than he now in terposes with an apparatus for harden- ing, or confirming in impenitence. In- diiference, if let alone, will produce obduracy ; and obduracy, if let alone, will produce torment. Olxluracy is in- difference multiplied : and thus it is the harvest from the grain. Torment is obduracy perpetuated and bemoaned : and this aijain is harvest — the grain re- produced, but with thorns round the ear. Thus, from first to last, " whatso- ever a man soweth, that also does he reap." We should be disposed to plead for the sound divinity, as well as the fine poetry of woi'ds Avhich Milton puts into the mouth of Satan, when approach- ing to the survey of paradise. " Which way I fly is hell ; myself am hell." " Myself am hell ! " It is the very idea which we have extracted from our text ; the idea of a lost creature being his own tormentor, his own place of tor- ment. There shall be needed no reti- nue of wrath to heap on the fuel, or tighten the rack, or sharpen the goad. He cannot escape from himself, and himself is hell. We would add that our text is not the only scriptural passage which inti- mates that sinfulness shall spring up into punishment, exactly as the seed sown produces the harvest. In the first chapter of the Book of Proverbs, the eternal wisdom marks out in terrible language the dpom of the scornei's. " I also will .laugh at your calamity, and mock when your fear cometh." Prov. 1 : 2G. And then, when he would de- scribe their exact punishment, he says, " they shall eat of the fruit of their own way, and be filled with their own de- vices." Prov. 1 : 51. They reap, you see, what they sow : their torments arc " their own devices." We have a simi- lar expi'ession in the Book of Job : " even as I have seen, they that plough iniquity and sow wickedness reap the same." Job, 4 : 8. Thus again in the Book of Proverbs : " tlie backslider in heart shall be filled with his own ways." Prov. 14 : 14. We may add that so- lemn vei'se in the last chapter of the Book of Revelation, which seems to us exactly to the point. It is spoken in the prospect of Christ's immediate ap- pearing. " He that is unjust let nim oe unjust still ; and he which is filthy, let him be filthy still ; and he that is righte- ous, let him be righteous still ; and he that is holy, let him be holy still." Rev, 22 : 11. The master-property is here represented as remaining the master property. The unjust continues foi ever the unjust; the filthy for ever tho filthy. So that the indulged principle, keeps fast its ascendancy, as though, according to our foregoing supposition, it is to become the tormenting princi- ple. The distinguishing characteristic never departs. When it can no longei be served and gratified by its slave, it wi-eaks its disajDpointment tremendously on its victim. There is thus a precise agreement between our text, as now expounded, and other portions of the Bible which I'efer to the same topic. We have in- deed, as you will observe, dealt chiefly with the sowing and the reaping of the wicked, and but just alluded to those of the righteous. It would not, how- ever, be difficult to prove to you, that, inasmuch as holiness is happiness, god liness shall be reward, even as sinful ness shall be punishment. And it clear that the apostle designed to in elude both cases under his statement for he subjoins as its illustration, " he that soweth to his flesh, shall of the flesh reap corruption ; but he that sow- eth to the Spirit shall of the Spirit reap life everlasting." We cannot indeed plead, in the second case, for as rigid an application of the principle as in the first. We cannot argue, that is, for what we call the natural process of ve- getation. There must be constant in- terferences on the part of Deity. God himself, rather than man, is the sower. And unless God were continually busy with the seed, 'it could never germi- nate, and send up a hai-\'est of glory. We think that this distinction between the cases is intimated by St. Paul. The one man sows " to the flesh ; " himselt the husbandman, himself the temtory. The other sows "to the Spirit," to the Holy Ghost ; and here there is a super- induced soil which differs altogether from the natural.- But if there be not, in each case, precisely the same, there is sufficient, rigor of application to bear out the assertion of our text. We re- member that it was " a crowTi of r;gh- 70 THE POWER OF WICKEDNESS. teousness," 2 Tim. 4 : 8, which spar- kled before St. Paul ; and we may, therefore, believe, that the righteous- 0833 which God's grace has nourished in the heart, will grow into recompense, just as the wickedness, in wliich the transgressor has indulged, will shoot into torment. So that, aUhougli it were easy to speak at greater length on the case of true believers, we may lay it down as a demonstrated truth, whether respect be had to the godly or the dis- obedient of the earth, that " whatso- ever a man soweth, that shall he also reap." And now, what mean ye to reap on that grand harvest-day, the day of judg- ment ] Every one of you is sowing ei- ther to the flesh, or to the Spirit ; and every one of you must, hereafter, take the sickle in his hand, and mow down the produce of his husbandry. We will speak no longer on things of terror. We have said enough to alarm the in- different. And we pray God that the careless amongst you may find these words of the prophet ringing in their ears, when they lie down to rest this night, " the harvest is passed, the sum- mer is ended, and we are not saved." Jcr. 8 : 20. But, ere we conclude, we would address a word to the men of God, and animate them to the toils of tillage by the hopes of reaping. We know that it is with much opposition from in- dwelling corruption, with many thwart- ings from Satan and your evil hearts, that ye prosecute the work of breaking up your fallow ground, and sowing to yourselves in righteousness. Ye have to deal with a stubborn soil. Tlic pro- phet Amos asks, " shall horses run upon the rock, will one plough there with oxen ]" Amos, 6 : 12. Yet this is pre- cisely what you have to do. It is the rock, " the heart of stone," which you must bring into cultivation. Yet be ye not dismayed. Above all things, pause not, as though doubtful whether to pro- secute a labor which seems to grov^r as it is performed. " No man, having put his hand to the plough, and looking back, is fit for the kingdom of heaven" Luke, 9 : G3. Rather comfort your- selves with that beautiful declaration ot the Psalmist, " they that sow in tears shall reap in joy." Psalm 12G : 5. Ra- ther call to mind the saying of the apos- tle, " ye are God's husbandry." 2 Cor. 3:9. It is God, who, by his Spirit, ploughs the ground, and sows the seed, and imparts the influences of sun and shower. " My Father," said Jesus, " is the husbandman ;" John, 15 : 1 ; and can ye not feel assured that He will give the increase 1 Look ye on to the harvest-time. What, though the winter be dreary and long, and there seem no shooting of the fig-tree to tell you that summer is nigh ? Christ shall yet speak to his church in that loveliest of poe- try, " Lo, the winter is past, the rain is over and gone, the flowers appear on the earth, the time of tli-e singing of birds is come, and the voice of the tur- tle is heard in the land." Cant. 2 : 11, 12. Then shall be the harvest. We cannot tell you the glory of the things which ye shall reap. We cannot show you the wavings of the golden corn. JJut this we know, *' that the sufferings of this present time arc not worthy to bo compared with the glory that shall bo revealed in us ; " Rom. 8 : 18 ; and, therefore brethren, beloved in the Lord, " be ye not weary in well-doing, for in due season we shall reap, if wp faint not " Gal 6 : 9. THE POWER OP RELIGION. n SERMON VII THE POWER OF RELIGION TO STRENGTHEN THE HUMAN INTELLECT. " The entrance of thy words giveth light; it givclh uudcrstanding to the simple' — Psalm cxix. 130. There is no point of view under v^hich the Bible can be surveyed, and not commend, itself to thinking minds as a precious and. w^onderful book. Travelling down to us across the waste of far-off centuries, it brings the his- tory of times which must otherwise have been given up to conjecture and fable. Instructing us as tu the creation of the magnificent universe, and defin- ing the authorship of that rich furni- ture, as well material as intellectual, with which this universe is stored, it delivers our minds from those vague and unsatisfying theories which reason, unaided in her searchings, proj^osed with respect to the origin of all things. Opening up, moreover, a sublime and simple system of theology, it emanci- pates the world from degrading super- stitions, which, dishonoring Deity by the representations propounded of his character, turn vice into virtue, and so banish what is praiseworthy from hu- man society. And thus, if you kept out of sight the more important ends subserved by the disclosures of the Bible, there would be no single jfift for which men stood so indebted to the Almighty as for the revelation of himself in the pages of Scripture. The great engine of civili- zation is still the written word of the Most High. And if you visit a tribe of our race in the lowest depths of barba- rism, and desire to bring up the debased creatures, and place them on their just level in the scale of existence, it is not by the enactments of earthly legisla- tion, any more than by the tyrannizings of earthly might, that you may look to bring speedily round the wished-for re- sult. The effective machinery is Chris- tianity, and Christianity alone. Propa- gate the tenets of this religion, as re- gistered in the Bible, and a mighty re- generation will go out over the face of the long-degraded community. We need hardly ajipeal, in proof of this assertion, to the records of the ef- fects of missionary enterprise. You are all aware, that, in many instances, a great change has been wrought, by the labors of faithful and self-denying men, on the savage clans amongst which they have settled. We omit, for the present, the incalculable advantages consequent on the inti'oduction of Christianity, when another state of be- ing is brought into the account. We consider men simply with respect to their sojourning upon earth ; and we contend that the revolution, effected in temporal affairs, should win, even from those who prize not its disclo- sures in regard to eternal, the warmest admiration for the Bible. There has succeeded to lawlessness and violence the beautiful scenery of good order and peace. The rude beings, wont to wander to and fro, alternately the prey and the scourge of neighboring tribes, have settled down to the quiet occupa- tions of industry ; and, gathering them- selves into villages, and plying the business of handicraft or agriculture have presented the aspect of a weli disciplined society in exchange for that of a roving and piratical horde. Ai'v. when a district which has hercto^'^re, 72 TUE POWER OF RELIGION. both morally and physically, been little i In tter tliaii a desert, puts forth ia all! its outspread the tokens of a vigorous 1 culture ; and the Sabbath-bell summons from scattered cottages a smiling popu- lation, linked together by friendship, and happy in all the sweetness of do- mestic charities, why, the infidel must be something less than a man, if, with all his contempt for the Bible as a reve- lation fiom God, he refuse to admire and esteem it as a noble engine for uplifting humanity from its deep degi-adations. But we wish ratlier to dra^v off your thoughts from what the Bible has done for society at largo, and to fix them on what it eiiects for individuals. It fol- lows, of course, that, since society is the aggregate of individuals, what the Bible does for the mass is mainly the sum of what it does separately for the units. An effect upon society pre-sup- poses an effect on its component mem- bers in their individual capacities ; it being impossible that the whole should be changed except by the change of its parts. Now we are persuaded that there is no book, by the perusal of which the mind is so much strengthened, and so much enlarged, as it is by the perusal of the Bible. We deal not yet with the case of the man who, being under the teach- ings of God's Spirit, has the truths of re- velation opened up to him in their gigan- tic and overwhelming force. We shall come afterwai'ds to the consideration of the circumstances of the converted ; we confine ourselves, for the present, to those of the unconverted. We re- quire nothing but an admission of the truth of the Scripture ; so that he who reads its declarations and statements, receives them as he would those of a wi-iter of acknowledged voracity. And what we contend is, that the study of the Bible, even when supposed without influence on the soul, is calculated, far more than any other study, to enlarge the mind and strengthen the intellect. There is nothing so likely to elevate, and endow with new vigor, our facul- ties, as the bringing them into contact with stupendous truths, arjd the setting them to grasp and measure those truths. If the human mind grow dwarfish and enfeebled, it is, oi-dinarily, because left v\> deal with common-place facts, and i«\\5r summoned to the effort of taking the span and altitude of broad and lofty disclosures. The understanding will gradually bring itself down to the di- mensions of the matters with which alone it is familiarized, till, having long been habituated to contracting its pow- ers, it shall well-nigh lose the ability of expanding them. But if it be for the enlargement of the mind, and the strengthening of its faculties, that acquaintance should be made with ponderous and far-sjDi-eading truths, it must be clear that knowledge of the Bible outdoes all other know- ledge in bringing round such result. We deny not that gi-eat effects may be wrought on the peasantry of a land by that wondrous diffusion of general in- formation which is now going forward through the instrumentality of the press. It is not possible that our penny magazines should be carrying to the workshop of the artisan, and the cot- tage of the laborer, an actual library of varied intelligence, withouf produc- ing an universal outsti-etch of mind, whether for good, or whether for evil. But if a population could be made a Bible-reading population, we argue that it .would be made a far more think- ing, and a far more intelligent popula- tion, than it will ever become throuirh the turning its attention on simplified sciences and abbreviated histories. If I desired to enlarge a man's mind, 1 should like to fasten it on the truth that God never had beginning, and never shall have end. I would set it to the receiving this truth, and to the grap- pling with it. I know that, in endea- voring to comprehend this ti-uth, the miiid will be quickly mastered ; and that, in attempting to push on to its boundary-lines, it will fall down, wea- ried with travel, and see infinity still stretching beyond it. But the effort will have been a grand mental disci- pline. And he who has looked at this discovery of God, as made to us by the word of inspiration, is likely to have come away from the contemplation Avith his faculties elevated, and at the same time, humbled ; so that a vigor, allied in no degree with arrogance, will have been generated by the study of a Bible truth ; and the man, whilst strengthen- ing his mind by a mighty exercise, will have learned the hardest, and the most useful, of all lessons — that intellect in THE POWER OP UELIGION 73 not omniiJOtent, and that the greatest wisdom may be, oftentimes, the know- ing ourselves ignorant. Wo arc not, yon will observe, refer- ring to the Bible as containing the food of the soul, and as teaching man what he must learn, if he would not perish everlastingly. We are simply arguing, that the bringing men to study the Bi- ble would be the going a vast deal fur- ther towards making them strong-mind- ed, and intellectual, than the dispei-sing amongst them treatises on all the sub- jects which philosophy embraces. The Bible, whilst the only book for the soul, is the best book for the intellect. The sublimity of the topics of which it treats ; the dignified simplicity of its manner of liandling them ; the noble- ness of the mysteries which it dcve- lopes ; the illumination which it throws on points the most interesting to crea- tures conscious of immortality; all these conspire to bring round a result which we insist upon as actual and necessary, namely, that the man who should study the Bible, and not be be- nefited by it spiritually, would be bene- fited by it intellectually. We think that it may be reckoned amongst incredible things, that converse should be held with the first parents of our race ; that man should stand on this creation whilst its beauty was unsullied, and then mark the retinue of destruction careering with a dominant step over its surface ; that he should be admitted to inter- course with patriarchs and prophets, and move through scenes peopled with the majesties of the Eternal, and be- hold the Godhead himself coming down into humanity, and working out, in the mysterious coalition, the discomfiture of the powers of darkness — oh, we reckon it, we say, amongst incredible things, that all this should be permit- ted to a man — as it is permitted to evei'y student of Scripture — and yet that he should not come back from the snnobling associations with a mind a hundi'cd-fbld more expanded, and a hundred-fold more elevated, than if he had given his time to the exploits of Caesar, or poured forth his attention on the results of machinery. We speak not thus in any disparage- ment of the pi-esent unparalleled efforts to make knowledge accessible to all classes of our community. We are far enough from underrating sucn eflTorts : and we hold, unreservedly, that a vast and a beneficial effect may be wrought amongst the poor through the well-ap- plied agency of vigorous instruction. In the mind of many a peasant, whose every moment is bestowed on wring- ing fi'om the soil a scanty subsistence, there slumber powers, which, liad they been evolved by early discipline, would have elevated their possessor to the first rank of philosophers ; and many a me- chanic, who goes patiently the round of unvaried toil, is, unconsciously, the owner of faculties, which, nursed and expanded by education, would have en- abled him to electrify senates, and to win that pre-eminence which men a- ward to the majesty of genius. Thera arise occasions, when — peculiar cir cumstances aiding the development — • the pent-ujD talent struggles loose from the trammels of pauperism ; and the peasant and mechanic, through a sud- den outbreak of mind, start forward to the places for which their intellect fits them. But ordinarily, the powers re- m'din through life bound-up and torjjid: and he, therefore, forms but a contract- ed estimate of the amount of high men- tal endowment, who reckons by the proud marbles which cause the aisles of a cathedral to breathe the memory of departed greatness, and never thinks, when walking the village church-yard with its rude memorials of the fathers of the valley, that, possibly, there sleeps beneath his feet one who, if early taught, might have trode with a New- ton's step the fii-mament, or swept with a Milton's hand the harp-strings. We make, then, every admission of the power which there is in cultivation to enlarge and unfold the human under- standing. We nothing question that mental capacities are equally distribu- ted amongst different classes of socie- ty ; and that, if it were not for the ad- ventitious circumstances^of birth, en- tailing the advantages of education, there would be sent out from the lower grades the same jiroportion as from the higher, of individuals distinguished by all the energies of talent. And thus believing that efforts to dis- seminate knowledge may cause a ge- neral calling forth of the mental powers of our population, we have no otho? feeling but that of pleasure in the? sur- 10 THE POWER OF RELIGION. Tey of these efforts. It is indeed pos- sible — and of this wc have our fears — that, by sending a throng of publica- tions to the fireside of the cottager, you may draw him away from tlic J3i- ble, which has licretofore been special- ly the poor man's book, and thus inflict upon him, as wc think, an intellectual injury, full as well as a moral. But, in the argument now in hand, Ave only up- hold the superiority of scriptural know- ledge, as compared with any other, when the alone object proposed is that of developing and improving the think- ing powers of mankind. And we reck- on that a fine triumph might be won fur Christianity, by the taking two illiterate individuals, and subjecting them to two different processes of mental discipline. Let the one be made familiar with what is styled general information ; let the other be confined to what we call Bible information. And when, in each case, the process has gone on a fair portion of time, and you come to inquire whose reasoning faculties had been most im- proved, whose mind had most grown and expanded itself, we are persuaded that the scriptural study would vastly carry it over the miscellaneous ; and that the experiment would satisfactori- ly demonstrate, that no knowledge tells so much on the intellect of mankind as that which is furnished by the records of inspiration. And if the grounds of this persuasion be demanded, we think them so self- evident as scarcely to require the being formally advanced. We say again, that if you keep out of sight the concern which man has in Scriptural truths, re- garding him as born for etei'nity, there is a grandeur about these truths, and a splendor, and a beauty, which must amaze and fascinate him, if he look not beyond the present era of existence. In all the wide range of sciences, what science is tlicre comparable, in its sub- limity and difficulty, to the science of God 1 In all the annals of humankind, what history is there so curious, and so riveting, as that of the infancy of man, the cradling, so to speak, of the earth's population 1 Where will you find a lawgiver from whose edicts may be learned a nobler jurisprudence than is exhibited by the statute-book of Moses? Whence will you gather such vivid illustrations of the power of truth as are furnished by the marcli of chris tianity, when apostles stood alone, and a whole world was against them 1 And if there be no book which treats of a loftier science, and none which C(/n- tains a more interesting history, and none which more thoroughly discloses the principles of right and the prowess of truth ; why then, just so far as men- tal improvement can be proved depend- ent on acquaintance with scientific mat- ters, or historical, or legal, or ethical, the Bible, beyond all other books, must be counted the grand engine for achiev- ing that improvement : and we claim for the Holy Scriptures the illustrious distinction, that, containing whatsoever is needful for saving the soul, they pre- sent also whatsoever is best calculated for strengthening the intellect. Now we have not carried on our ar- gument to its utmost limit, though we have, perhaps, advanced enough for the illustration of our text. Wc might oc- cupy your attention with the language, as we have done with the matter, of holy writ. It were easy to show you that there is no human composition presenting, in anything of the same de- gree, the majesty of oratory and the loveliness of poetry. So that if the de- bate were simply on the best means of improving the taste of an individual — others might commend to his attention the classic page, or bring forward the standard works of a nation's literature ; but wc, for our part, would chain him down to the study of Scripture ; and we would tell him, that, if he would learn what is noble verse, he must hearken to Isaiah sweeping the chords to Jerusalem's glory ; and if he would know what is powerful eloquence, he must standby St. Paul pleading in bonds at Agrippa's tribunal. It suits not our purpose to push fur- ther this inquiry. But we think it right to impress on you most earnest- ly the wonderful fact, that, if all the books in the wide world were assem- bled together, the Bible would as much take the lead in disciplining the un- derstanding, as in directing the soul. Living, as we do, in days when intel- lectual and scriptural arc set down, practically, as opposite terms, and it seems admitted as an axiom that to ci- vilize and christianize, to make men in- telligent and to make men religious, THE POWER OP RELIGION. 7S are things which have no necessary, nor evea possible connection, it is well that we Bomctimes revert to the mat- ter-of-fact: and whilst every stripling is boasting that a great enlargement of mind is coming on a nation, through the pouring into all its dwellings a tide of general information, it is right to uphold the forgotten position, that in caring for man as an immortal being, God cared for him as an intellectual ; and that, if the Bible wei-e but read by our artisans and our peasantry, we should be surrounded by a far more enlightened and intelligent population than will appear on this land, when the school-master, Math his countless ma- gazines, shall have gone through it in its length and in its breadth. But up to this point we have made no direct reference to those words of David which we brought forward as the subject of present discourse. Yet all our remarks have tended to their illustration. The Psalmist, addressing himself to his God, declares, " the en- trance of thy words giveth light, it giveth understanding to the simple." Now you will at once perceive, that, when taken in its largest signification, this verse ascribes to the Bible pre- cisely that energy for which we have contended. The assertion is, that the entrance of God's word gives light, and that it gives also understanding to the simple ; whilst it has been our en- deavor to show that a mind, dark through want of instruction, or weak through its powers being either natu- rally poor, or long unexercised, would become either illuminated, or strength- ened, through acquaintance with the contents of Scripture. We thus vindi- cate the truth of our text, when reli- gion, properly and strictly so called, is not brought into the account. We prove that the study of the Bible, when it does not terminate in the conversion of the soul, will terminate in the clearing and improvement of the intellect. So that you cannot find the sense where- in it does not hold good, that " the en- trance of God's words giveth light, it giveth understanding to the simple." But we now go on to observe that the passage applies with a vastly great- er force to the converted than to the unconverted. We will employ the re- mainder of our time in examining its truth, when the student of Scripture Is supposed also the subject of grace. It would seem as though this case wer« specially contemplated by the Psalm- ist, there being something in the phia- seology which loses otherwise much of its point. The expression " the en- trance of thy words," appears to denote more than the simple perusal. The light breaks out, and the understanding is communicated, not through the mere reading of thy words, but through " the entrance of thy words :" the Bible be- ing effective only as its truths pierce, and go deeper than the surface. And although it must be readily conceded that the mere reading, apart from the entrance of the word, can effect none of those results which we have already ascribed to the Bible, we still think the chief reference must be to an entrance into the soul, which is peculiar, rather than to that into the understanding, which is common. We may also remark that the marginal reading of the passage is " the opening of thy words giveth light." If we adopt this translation, which is, probably, the more accurate of the two, we must conclude that the Psalmist speaks of the word as inter- preted by God's Spirit, and not merely as perused by the student. It is not the word, the bare letter, which gives the light, and the understanding, spe- cially intended; but the word, as open- ed, or applied by the Spirit. Now, in treating the text in this its more limit- ed signification, we have to do, first, with a fact, and secondly, with the rea- sons of that fact. The fact is, that, on conversion, there is given to man an increased measure of understanding. The reasons of this fact are to be look- ed for in another fact, namely, that conversion results from the entrance, or opening, of God's words. It will be for our profit that we consider atten- tively both the fact and the reasons. And, first, as to the fact, that, on be- coming a man of godliness, the simple becomes increasingly a man of under- standing. Now it is, we believe, commonly ob- served, by those who set themselves to examine the effects of religion upon different characters, that a general strengthening of the mind is amongst the usual accompaniments of piety. The instances, indeed, are of no rare n THE POWER OF RELIGIOX. oco'irrence in which a mental weak- ness, bordering almost on imbecility, has been succeeded by no inconsider- able soundness and sti-ength of under- standing. The case has come within our own knowledcre of an individual, who, betore conversion, was accounted, to say the least, of very limited capa- cities ; but who, after conversion, dis- played such power of comprehending difficult truths, and such facility in stating them to others, that men of stanch and well-informed minds sought intercourse as a privilege. Something of the same kind has frequently been obsen'ed in regard to children. The gi-ace of God has fallen, like the warm sun of the east, on their mental facul- ties ; and, rijieniiig them into the rich- ness of the summer, whilst the body had as yet not passed thrpugh its spring- time, ha§ caused that grey hairs might be instructed by the tender discipline, and brought a neighborhood i-ound a death-bed to learn wisdom from the lips of a youth. And, without confining ourselves to instances which may be reckoned peculiar and extraordinary, we would assert that, in all cases, a marked change passes over the human mind when the heart is renewed by the influences of God's Spirit. 'We are not guilty of the absurdity of maintain- ing that there are sujoernaturally com- municated any of those stores of infor- mation which are ordinarily gained by a patient and pains-taking application. A man will not become mox-e of an as- tronomer than he was before, nor more of a chemist, nor more of a linguist. He will have no greater stock of know- ledge than he before possessed of sub- jects which most occupy the learned of his fellows. And if he would inform himself in such subjects, the man of i-e- ligion must give himself to the same labor as the man of no religion, and sit down, Avith the same industry, to the treatise and the grammar. The pea- sant, who becomes not the philosopher simply because his mental powers have been undisciplined, will not leave the plough for the orrery, because his nn- dei'standing is expanded by religion. Education might give, whilst religion will not give, the powers the philoso- phical bent. But there is a wide difTer- ence between the strengthening the mmd, and the storing it with informa- tion. We may plead for the former effect without at all supposing the lat- ter : though we shall come afterwards to see that infoiTnation of the loftiest description is conveyed through the opening of the Bible, and that, conse- quently, if the impartment of know- ledge be an improving thing to the faculties, an improvement, the most marked, must result fi-om conversion. But we confine ourselves, at present, to the statement of a fact. We assert that, in all cases, a man is intellectual- ly, as well as spiritually, advantaged through becoming a man of piety. He will have a clearer and less-biassed judgment. His views will be wider, his estimates more correct. His under- standing, having been exercised on truths the most stupendous, will be more comjietent for the examination of what is difficult or obscure. His rea- son, having learned that much lies be- yond her province, as well as much within, will give herself to inquiries with greater humility and greater cau- tion, and therefore, almost to a moral certainty, with greater success. And though we may thus seem rather to account for the fact than to prove it, let it be remembered that this fact, be- ing an effect, can only be established, cither by pointing out causes, or by ajipealing to experience. The appeal to experience is, perhaps, the correcter mode of the two. And we, therefore, content ourselves with saying, that those who have watched character most narrowly, will bear out the state- ment, that the opening of God's word is followed, ordinarily, by a surprising opening of man's faculties. If you take the rude and illiterate laborer you will find that regeneration proves to him a sort of intellectual as well as a moral renovation. There shall generally be no ploughman in the village who is so sound, and shrewd, and clear-headed a man, as the one who is most attentive to the salvation of his soul. And if an individual have heretofore been obtuse and unintelligent, let him be converted, and there shall hereafter be commonly a quickness and animation ; so that re- ligion, whose prime business it is to shed light upon the heart, shall appear, at the same time, to have thrown fire into the eye. We do not, indeed, as- sert that genius and talent are imjiarted THE POWER OF RELIGION. at the new birth. But that it is amongst the characteristics of godliness, that it elevates man in the scale of intellec- tual being; that it makes him a more thinliing, anfi a more inquiring, and a more discrimmating creature ; that it both rectifies and strengthens the -men- tal vision ; we are guilty of no exagge- ration, if we contend for this as univer- sally true; and this, if not moi-e than this, is asserted in the statement, that " the entrance of God's words givcth light, it giveth understanding to the But we arc now, in the second place, to consider certain of the reasons of this fact. What is there in the entrance, or, more strictly, in the opening of God's words, which may faii'ly account for so singular a result 1 We begin by reminding you that the entrance, or opening of God's word, denotes the application of scriptural truth to the heart and conscience by that Almighty agent, the Holy Ghost. Hence a sav- ing, inllaential, belief in the disclo- sures of revelation is the distinguish- ing jDi'operty of the individuals referred to in our text. And in inquii'ing, there- fore, how it comes to pass that under- standing is given to the simple, we are to pi-oceed on the supposition, that he is endowed with real faith in those mighty truths which inspired writers were commissioned to make known. Thus the question before us is reduced to this — what connection subsists be- tween believing in the heart the words of God, and having the understanding enlightened and strengthened ] Now our great difficulty is not in finding an answer to this question, but in arranging and condensing our mate- rial of reply. We would, first, remind you that the truths which have been commended to the belief are the most sublime and spirit-stirring of all that can engage the attention of mankind. They are the truths of eternity, and their dimensions cori'espond with their duration. And we feel that there must be an amazing demand upon the mind, when, after long years of confinement to the petty affairs of this perishing state, it is summoned to the survey of those unmeasured wonders which crowd the platform of the future. I take a man whose attention has been engrossed by commerce, and whose thoughts have been given wholly to the schemings and workings of trade. May we not affirm, that, when the grace of God takes possession of this man's soul, there will occur an extraordinary men- tal revolution ; and that, too, brought round by the magnificence of the sub- jects with which his spirit has newly grown conversant? In j^lace of oceans which can be fathomed, and weighed, and measured, there is an expanse be- fore him without a shore. In place of carrying on intercourse with none but the beings of his own race, separated from him by a few leagues of distance, he sends his vessels, as it were, to lands tenanted by the creatures of a more gloiious intelligence, and they re- turn to him, freighted with a produce costlier, and brighter, than earthly mer- chandise. In place of acquaintance with no ledger save the one in which he casts up the debtor and creditor of a few fellow-worms, there rises before him the vast volume of doomsday, and his gazings are often on the final ba- lance-sheet of the human population. And we simply demand whether you think it possible, that there , should be this overpowering accession to the objects which occupy the mind, and yet that the mind itself should not grow, and enlai"ge, and strengthen 1 The mind which deals with both worlds cannot, in the nature of things, be so contracted as that which deals only with one. Can that be a lai-ge under- standing which is conversant with no- thing but the scenery of a finite exist- ence ; or, rather, if heretofore the un- derstanding have grasped nothing but the facts of an hour and a league, and these have apjjeared to crowd it to the full, must there not have taken jjlace a scarcely measurable enlargement, if eternity and infinity be now gathered within its spreadings 1 Besides, there will be a sounder and more correct judgment upon events and prcbaljili- ties, when reference is always made to the fii'st cause, than when regaixl is had only to second causes. There will be a fairer and more honest deliberation, when the jjassions are under the sway of divine promises and threatenings, than when there is no higher rest'-aint than the ill-defined ones of human ho- nor. So that it would seem altogether to be expected, that, on the mere ac- 78 TUR roWEU OF RELIGION. count of the might and vastness of the trutlis, into acquaintance with which the mind is introduced, the mind itself will send forth latent and unsuspected powers, or even shoot up into a new Btature whicli shall put to shame its former dwarfishness. Thus the open- ing of God's words is accompanied, or followed, by the rousing up of dormant energies. The sphere, which the sand- grain seemed to fill, is required to di- late, and take in immensity. The arm which plucked a leaf, or lifted a peb- ble, must strive to wrench up the oak, and raise the mountain. And in striv- ing it strcngtliens. The mind, employ- ed on what is great, becomes itself greater; busied with what is bright, it becomes itself brighter. Let the man, therefore, have been even of weak men- tal capacity — conversion will give some- thing of nerve and tone to that capaci- ty. Besides, it is a thing worthy your remark, and so obvious as scarcely to be overlooked, that all love, except the love of God, reduces and contracts the soul. If a man be a covetous man, fast- ening the might of his affections upon money, you will ordinarily find him, in every respect, a narrow-minded being. His intellect, whatever its natural ca- pacities, will embrace little or nothing beyond modes of accumulation, and will grow practically unable to over- pass the circles of pi-ofit and loss. It is just the same, if a man's love be fixed on reputation. We hold it impos- sible there should be eidargcd views, when those views centre in one's self There may be lofly and far-spreading schemes ; for ambition can look upon a world, and think it too small for its marchings. Jiut so long as those schemes are schemes for the aggran- dizement of self, they may take a crea- tion for their sphere, and yet require to be described as pitiful and niggardly. It is no mark of an ample mind that it can be filled with an unit. And many a philanthropist laboring quietly and unobtrusively, for the well-being of a solitary parish, or neighborhood, has thereby provc^l himself a larger-heart- ed and a larger-soiiled creature than an Alexander, Ixjundless in his graspings ; and that, too, upon the clear and straight- forward principle, that a heart which holds only one's-self, is a narrower and more circumscribed thing than another which contains a multitude of our fel- lows. The truth is, that all objects of love, except God, are smaller than the heart itself They can only fill the heart, through the heart being contract- ed and narrowed. The human soul was framed, in its first creation, to that wideness as to be capable of enjoying God, though not of fully comprehend- ing him. And it still retains so much of its glorious original, that " all other things gather it in and straiten it from its natural size." * Whereas the love of God not only occupies it to the full, but, inasmuch as in its broadest en- largement it is still infinitely too nar- row for God, this love, as it were, doth stretch and expand it, enabling il to hold more, and giving it, at the same time, more to hold. Thus, since the converted man loves God, and this new object of love demands amplitude of dwelling, we contend that, as a conse- quence on conversion, there will be ex- tension of the whole mental apparatus. And if you find the man hereafter, as we are bold to say you will find him, exercising a correcter judgment, and displaying a shrewder sense, than had beforetime seemed in his possession, you have only to advance, in explana- tion of the phenomenon, that " the en- trance of God's word giveth under- standing to the simple." ]5ut we may state yet more strongly, and also multiply our reasons, why, on becoming religious, the simple man should become more a man of under- standing. Let it just be considered that man, whilst left in his state of natural corruption, is a being, in every respect, disorganized. Under no point of view is he the creature that he was, as fash- ioned, originally, after the image of his Maker. He can no longer act out any of the great ends of his creation : a total disability of loving and obeying the Almighty having been fastened on him by his forefather's apostacy. And v/hcn this degi-aded and ruined being is subjected to the saving operations ol the Spirit of God, he is said to be re- newed, or remodelled, after the long • Leighton. THE POWER OP RELIGION. 79 lost resemblance. The conscience be- comes disquieted; and this is convic- tion. The heart and its affections arc given back to God ; and this is con- version. Now w^e do not say, that, by this great moral renovation, the inju- ries which the fall caused to the human intellect are necessarily repaired. Ne- vertheless, we shall assert that the mo- ral hnprovement is just calculated to bring about an intellectual. You all know how intimately mind and body are associated. One plays wonderfully on the other, so that disease of body may often be traced to gloom of mind, and conversely, gloom of mind be prov- ed to originate in disease of body. And if there be this close connection between mental and corporeal, shall we suppose there is none between mental and mo- ral 1 On the contrary it is clear that the association, as before hinted, is of the strictest. What an influence do the passions exercise upon the judgment ! How is the voice of reason drowned in the cry of impetuous desires ! To what absurdities will the understanding give assent, when the will has resolved to take up their advocacy ! How little way can truth make with the intellect, Avhen there is something in its character which opposes the inclination ! And what do we infer from these undenia- ble facts 1 Simply, that whilst the mo- ral functions are disordered, so likewise must be the mental. Simply, that so long as the heart is depraved and dis- tui'bed, the mind, in a certain degree, must itself be out of joint. And if you would give the mind fair play, there must be applied straightway a correc- tive process to the heai-t. You cannot tell what a man's understanding is, so long as he continues " dead in trespasses and sins." Ephesians, 2 : 1. There is a mountain upon it. It is tyrannized over by lusts, and passions, and affections, and appetites. It is compelled to form wrong estimates, and to arrive at wrong conclusions. It is not allowed to re- ceive as truth what the carnal nature has an interest in rejecting as false- hood. And what hope, then, is there that the intellect will show itself what it actually is 1 It may be gigantic, when it seems only puny ; respectable, when it passes for despicable. And thus we bring you back again to the argument in hand. We prove to you, that a weak mind may be so connected with a wick- ed heart, that to act on the wickedness would be going far towards acting on the weakness. Oh, fatal downfall of man's first parent — the image could not be shivered in its moral features, and remain untouched in its intellectual. Well has it been said, that possibly " Athens was but the rudiments of Pa- radise, and an Aristotle only the rub- bish of Adam." * But if there be a mo- ral renovation, there will, from the connection now traced, be also, to a cer- tain extent, an intellectual. And hence since at the entrace of God's words the man is renewed in holiness, we have a right to expect that he will also be renewed in understanding. If addi- tional mental capacity be not given, what he before possessed is allowed to develope itself; and this is practically the same as though there were a fresh gift. If he receive not actually a greater measure of understanding, still, inas- much as the stem embargo which the heart laid on the intellect is mercifully removed, he is, virtually, under the same circumstances as if a new por- tion were bestowed. Thus, with all the precision which can fairly be re- quired in the interpretation of such a phrase, we prove that, since man is elevated in the scale of intelligence through being i-aised from his moral degradation, we are bound- to conclude with the Psalmist, that " the entrance of God's words giveth light, it giveth understanding to the simple." We have yet one more reason to ad- vance, explanatory of the connection which we set ourselves to trace. You observe that the entrance, or the open- ing, of God's words denotes such an application to the soul of the truths of revelation that they become influential on the life and conversation. Now, why should a man who lives by the Bible be, practically, possessed of a stronger and clearer understanding than, apparently, belonged to him ere this rule was adopt- ed 1 The answer may be found in the facts, that it is a believer's duty, when- soever he lacks wisdom, to ask it of God, and a believei-'s privilege, never to be sent away empty. In all those • Dr. South. so THE PO^VETl OF KELIGIOX. cases which require the exercise of a sound (lisci-etioH — which present oppo- site diflicukies, rendering decision on a course painfully perplexing — who is likely to display the soundest judg- ment ? the man who acts for himself, or another who seeks, and obtains, di- rection from above 1 We plead not for rash and unfounded expectations of a divine interference on our behalf. We simply hold fast to the promises of Scripture. And we pronounce it to be beyond all peradventure, that, if the Bible be true, it is also true that they who have been translated from dark- ness to light are never left without the aids of God's ^ Spirit, unless they seek not those aids, or seek them not ear- nestly and faithfully. If I have known the entranc-8, or the opening of the word of our God, then I have practically learned such lessons as these : " lean not to thine own understanding ; " " in all thy ways acknowledge Him, and he shall direct thy paths." Prov. 3 : 5, 6. And if I am not to lean to mine own understanding, and if I have the j^rivi- lege of being directed by a higher than mine own, it is evident that I occupy, practically, the position of one to whom has been given an increased measure of understanding ; and what, conse- quently, is to prevent the simple man, whose rule of life is God's word, from acting in all circumstances, whether or- dinary or extraordinary, with such pru- dence, and discretion, and judgment,' that he shall make good, to the vei-y letter, the assertion, that " the entrance of God's words giveth light, it giveth understanding to the simple ? " Now it is not possible to gather into a single discourse the varied reasons which might be given for the fact un- der review. But the causes already adduced will serve to show, that the fact is, at least, by no means unaccount- able : but that, on the contrary, the connection is so necessary between spiritual improvement and intellectual, that amongst the accompaniments of a renewed heart, we may justly reckon a clearer head. AVe desire, in conclusion, to press upon you once more the worth of the Bible, and then to wind up our subject with a woi"d of exhortation. Of all the boons which (Jod has be- stowed on this apostate and orphaned creation, we are bound to sa/ that the Bible is the noblest and most precious. We bring not into comparison with this illustrious donation the glorious sun- light, nor the rich sustenance •vyhich is poured forth from the sto e-houses of the earth, nor that existence itself which allows us', though dust, to soar into companionship with angels. The Bible is the developement of man's immor- tality, the guide which informs how he may move off triumphantly from a con- tracted and temporary scene, and grasp destinies of unbounded splendor, eter- nity his life-time and infinity his home. It is the record which tells us that this rebellious section of God's unlimited empire is not excluded from our Ma- ker's compassions ; but that the crea- tures who move upon its surface, though they have basely sepulchred in sinful- ness and corruption the magnificence of their nature, are yet so dear in their ruin to Him v/ho first formed them, that he hath bowed down the heavens in or- der to open their graves. Oh, you have only to think what a change Avould pass on the aspect of our race, if the Bible were suddenly withdrawn, and all re- membrance of it swept away, and you arrive at some faint notion of the worth of the volume. Take from Christendom the Bible, and you hare taken the moral chart by which alone its population can be guided. Ignorant of the nature of God, and only guessing at their own immortality, the tens of thousands would be as mariners, tossed on a wide ocean, without a pole-star, and without a compass. It Avere to mantle the eaitii with a more than Egyptian darkness : it were to dry up the fountains of hu- man happiness : it were to take the tides from our waters, and leave them stagnant, and the stars from our hea- vens, and leave them in sackcloth, and the verdure from our valleys, and leave them in barrenness : it were to irjake the present all recklessness and the future all hopelessness — the maniac's revelry and then the fiend's imjirison- ment — if you could annihilate that pre- cious volume which tells us of God and of Christ, and unveils immortality, and instructs in duty, a.nd woos to glory. Such is the Bible. Prize ye it, and stu- dy it more and more. Prize it, as ye arc immortal beings — for it guides to the New Jerusalem. Prize it, as ye are THE POWER OP RELIGIOX. 81 intellectual beings — for it " giveth un- derstanding to the simple. " We have now only space for a brief word of exhortation, and we ask for it your closest attention. A minister, if he would be faithful to his calling, must mark the signs of the times, and endea- vor so to shape his addresses that they may meet, and expose, the prominent errors. Now we think that, in our own day, there is a strong disposition to put aside the Bible, and to seek out other agency for accomplishing results which God hath appointed it to effect. Wc fear, for example, that the intellectual benefits of Sci-iptural knowledge are well-nigh entirely overlooked ; and that, in the efforts to raise the standard of mind, there is little or no recognition of the mighty principle, that the Bible outweighs ten thousand Encyclopaedias. And we are fearful on your account, lest something of this national substi- tution of huinan literature for divine should gain footing in your households. We fear lest, in the business of educa- tion, you should separate broadly that teaching which has to do with the sal- vation of the soul, from that which has to do with the improvement of the mind. We refer to this point, because we think ourselves bound, by the vows of our calling, to take every opportunity of stating the duties which devolve on you as parents or guardians. There is a sense in which it may be affirmed that souls, those mysterious and imjicrish- able things, are given into the custody of every father of a family. And we are persuaded that if there be one thing on this earth, which draws, more than an- other, the sorrowing regards of the world of spirits, it must be the system of education pursued by the generality of parents. The entering a room grace- fully is a vast deal more attended to than the entering into heaven ; and you would conclude that the grand thing for which God had sent the child into the world, was that it might catch the Italian accent, and be quite at home in every note of the gamut. Christianity, indeed, is not at variance with the ele- gancies of life : she can use them as her handmaids, and give them a beauty of which, out of her service, they are ut- terly destitute. We wage no war, there- fore, with accomplishments, any more than with tlue solid acquirements of a liberal education. We are only anxiom to press on you the necessity that ye make religion the basis of your system We admit, in all its breadth, the truth of the saying, that knowledge is power It is power — ay, a fatal and a perilous Neither the might of armies, nor the scheming of politicians, avails any thing against this power. The school-master, as we have already hinted, is the giciMd engine for revolutionizing a world. Let knowledge be generally diffused, and the fear of God be kept in the back- ground, and you have done the same for a countiy' as if you had laid the gunpowder under its every institution : there needs only the igniting of a match, and the land shall be strewed with the fragments of all that is glorious ani venef able. But, nevertheless, we would not have knowledge chained up in the college and monastery, because its arm is endowed with such sinew and nerve. We would not put forth a finger to up- hold a system which we believed based on the ignorance of a population. We only desire to see knowledge of God advance as the vanguard of the host of information. AVe are sure that an in« tellectual must be a mighty j^easantry But we are equally sure that an in- tellectual, and a godless, will demon* strate their might, by the ease with which they crush whatever most a- dorns and elevates a kingdom. And in speaking to you individually of your duties as parents, we would bring into the family circle the principles thus announced as applicable to the na- tional. We want not to set bounds to the amount of knowledge which you strive to impart. But never let this remembrance be swept from your minds — that, to give a child knowledge without endeavoring, at the same time, to add to knowledge godliness, is to do your best to throw the momen- tum of the giant into the arm of the idiot : to construct a machinery which may help to move a world, and to leave out the spring which would insure its moving it onl^ towards God. We would have you shun, even as you would the tampering with an immortality depo- sited in your keeping, the imitating what goes on in a thousand of the households of a professedly Christian neighborhood — the children can pro- nounce well, and they can step well, 11 82 THE POWER OF RELIGIOX. and they can play well ; the mother proudly exhibits the specimens of pro- ficncy in painting, and the father dwells, with an air of delight, on the progress made in Virgil and Homer — but if you incjuire how far these parents are jiroviding for their own in the things of eternity, why, the children have per- haps learned the Cluirch Catechism, and they read a chapter occasionally on a Sunday afternoon. And that ye may avoid the mistake into which, as we think, the temper of the times is but too likely to lead you, we would have you learn, from tho subject which has now been discussed, that, in edu- cating your children for the next life, you best educate them for the present. We give it you, as a truth, made known to us by God, and, at the same time de- monstrable by reason, that, in going through the courses of Bible-instruc- tion, there is better mental discipline, whether for a child or an adult, than in any of the cleverly devised methods for opening and strengthening the facul- ties. We say not that the study of Scripture should exclude other studies, or be substituted for them. Natural philosophy is not to be learned from Scripture nor general history ; and we would not have such matters neglected. But we say that Scriptural study should be, at once, the ground- work and com- panion of every other; and that the mind will advance, with the firmest and most dominant step, into the various departments of knowledge, when fami- liarized with the truths of revelation, and accustomed to walk their unlimited spreadings. If parents had no higher ambition than to make their children in- tellectual, they would act most shrewd- ly by acting as though desirous to make them religious. It is thus we apply our subject to those amongst you who are parents or guardians. But it applies to all. We call upon you all to observe, that, in place of being beneath the no- tice of the intellectual, the Bible is the great nourishcr of intellect. Wc re- quire of you t6 bear away to your homes as an undeniable fact, that to care for the soul is to cultivate the mind. We will not yield the culture of the understanding to earthly hus- bandmen. There are heavenly minis- ters who water it with a choicer dew, and pour on it the beams of a more brilliant sun, and prune its branches with a kinder and more skilful hand. We will not give up reason to stand always as a priestess at the altars of human philosophy. She hath a more majestic temple to tread, and more beauteous robes wherein to walk, and incense rarer and more fragrant to burn in golden censers. She docs well when exploring boldly God's visible works. She does better, when she meekly sub- mits to spiritual teaching, and sits, as a child, at the Savior's feet : for then shall she experience the truth, that " the entrance of God's words givcth light and understanding." And, there- fore, be ye heedful — the young amongst you more especially — that ye be not ashamed of piety, as though it argued a feeble capacity. Rather be assured, forasmuch as revelation is the great strengthcner of reason, that the march of mind which leaves the Bible in the rear is an advance, like that of oui first parents in Paradise, towards know- ledge, but, at the same tiiuo, tawaK^b death. OOD S PROVISION FOR THE FOOR. 83 SERMON VIII THE PROVISION MADE BY GOD FOR THE POOR, " Thou, O God, hast prepared of thy goodness for the poor." — PsALM, Ixviii. 10. We think it one of the most remark- able sayings of holy writ, that " the poor shall never cease out of the land." Deut. 15: 11, The words maybe re- garded as a prophecy, and their fulfil- ment has been every way most surpri- sing. Amid all the revolutions whereof our earth has been the scene — revolu- tions which have presented to us em- pire after empire rising to the summit of greatness, and gathering into its pro- vinces the wealth of the world — there has never been a nation over which riches have been equally diffused. The many have had poverty for their por- tion, whilst abundance has been poured into the laps of the few. And if you refuse to consider this as a divine ap- pointment, it will be hard, we think, to account for the phenomenon. It might have been expected that the distribu- tion of physical comfort would be pro- portioned to the amount of physical Btrength ; so that numbers would dic- tate to individuals ; and the power of bone and muscle be brought to bear on the production of equality of circum- stance. And just in the degree that we recognize the fulfilment of prophecy in the continuance of poverty, we must be prepared to allow, that the unequal ■distribution of temporal advantages is a result of the Almighty's good plea- sure ; and that, consequently, all popu- lar harangues on equality of rights are nothins: less than contradictions to the assertions, " the rich and poor meet to- gether, the Lord is the maker of them all." Proverbs, 22 : 2. There is no easier subject for stormy and factious declamation, than the hard and unnatural estate of poverty. The slightest reference to it engages, at once, the feelings of a multitude. And whensoever a bold and talented dema- gogue works up into his speeches the doctrine, that all men are born with equal rights, he plies his audience with the strongest excitement, but does, at the same time, great despite to the word of inspiration. We hold it to be clear to every student of Scripture, that God hath ordained successive ranks in human society, and that uniformity of earthly allotment was never contem- plated by his providence. And, there- fore, do we likewise hold, that attempts at equalization would be tantamount to rebellion against the appointments of heaven ; and that infidelity must up- heave the altars of a land, ere its in- habitants could venture out on such enterprise. It is just that enterprise which may be looked for as the off- spring of a doctrine demonstrable only ■when the Bible shall have perished — the doctrine, that all power emanates from the people. When a population have been nursed into the belief that sovereignty is theirs, the likelihood is that the first assertion of this sover- eignty will be the seizing the posses- sions of those who gave them the les- son. The I'eadiest way of overturning the rights of property is to introduce false theories on the origin of power. And they must, at the least, be short- sighted calculators, who, having taught our mechanics and laborers that they are the true king of the land, expect them to continue well contented with the title, and quite willing that superi- ors should keep the advantages. But our main concern lies, at pre- S4 GOD S PROVISION FOR THE POOR. sent, with the fact, that poverty is an appointment of God. We assume this fact as one not to be questioned by a christian congi'egation. And when we have fastened on the truth that God hath appointed poverty, Ave must set ourselves to ascertain that God hath not overlooked the poor ; there being nothing upon which we may have a greater prior certainty than on this, namely, that if it be God's will that the poor should not cease, it must also be his arrangement that the poor should be cared for. Now our text is a concise, but strik- ing, declaration that the solicitudes of God are engaged on the side of the poor. It would seem, indeed, from the context, that spiritual blessings were specially intended by the Psalmist, when addressing himself to God in the words to be examined. He speaks of the Almighty as sending a plentiful rain, and refreshing the weary inherit- ance. And we think it required by the nature of this imagery, as compared with the rest of scriptural metaphor, that we understand an outpouring of the Spirit as the mercy which David commemorates. But still there is no- thing, either in the words themselves, or in those which accompany them, re- quiring that we circumscribe the bear- ings of the passage. We may take it as a general truth, that " thou, O God, hast prepared of thy goodness for the poor." And we shall, therefore, en- deavor to turn your thoughts on two separate inquiries ; examining, in the first place, how the assertion holds good in temporal things, and in the se- cond place, how it holds good in spi- ritual things. This second in(piiry is the more closely connected with the business of our Sabbath assemblings, and we shall give it, therefore, the main of our time and attention. Now if we set ourselves to establish as a matter-of-fact, that, in temporal things, God, of his goodness, has pre- pared for the poor, we seem, at once, arrested in our demonstration by that undeniable wretchedness which lies heavy on the mass of a crowded popu- lation. But it would be altogether wrong that we should judge any ap- E ointment of God, without reference eing had to the distortions which man has himself introduced. We feel assured upon the point, that, in con structing the framework of society God designed that one class should de- pend greatly on another, and that sonio should have nothing but a hard-earned pittance, whilst others were charioted in plenty. But we are to the full as clear upon another point, namely, that if in any case there be positive destitu- tion, it is not to be referred to the es- tablished ordinance of God, but only to some forgctfulness, or violation, of that mutual dependence which this or- dinance would encourage. There has never yet been the state of things — and, in spite of the fears of political economists, we know not that there ever will be — in which the produce of this earth sufficed not for its popula- tion. God has given the globe for the dwelling-place of man, and, causing that its valleys stand thick with corn, scatters food over its surface to satisfy the wants of an enormous and multi- plying tenantry. And unless you can show that he hath sent such excess ol inhabitants into this district of his em- pire, that there cannot be wrung for them sufficiency of sustenance from the overtasked soil, you will have made no advances towai'ds a demonstration, that the veriest outcast, worn to a mere skeleton by famine, disproves the as- sertion, that God, of his goodness, has prepared for the poor. The question is not whether every poor man obtains enough : for this brings into the ac- count human management. It is sim- ply, whether God has given enough : for this limits our thoughts to divine appointment. And beyond all doubt, when we take this plain and straight- forward view of the subject, we cannot put from us the conclusion that God, of his goodness, has prepared for the poor. If he had so limited the produc- tiveness of the earth that it would yield only enough for a fraction of its inha- bitants ; and if he had allowed that the storehouses of natiu'e might be exhaust- ed by the demands of the myriads whom he summoned into life ; there would lie objections against a statement which ascribes to his goodness the having made an universal provision. But if — and we have here a point admitting not of controversy — he have always hith- erto caused that the productions of the globe should keep pace with its popu« god's PROVrSION FOR THE POOR. 8$ lation, it is nothing better than the reasoning of a child, that God liath not provided for the jDOor, because through mal-adniinistration of his bounties, the poor may, in certain cases, have been w^holly unprovided for. And it is worth your while to obsei"ve, that God prepared more than mere sus- tenance for the poor, when he endowed the soil with its surprising, and still undeveloped productiveness. We are indebted to the giound on which we tread for the arts which adorn, and the learning which ennobles, as well as for the food which sustains human life. If God had thrown such barrenness into the earth that it would yield only enough to support those who tilled it, you may all perceive that every man must have labored at agriculture for himself; there being no overplus of produce which the toil of one individual could have pro- cured for another. Thus, if you exa- mine with any carefulness, you must necessarily discover, that the sole rea- son why this comjiany of men can de- vote themselves to the business of le^ gislation, and that to the study of juris- prudence ; why we may erect schools, and universities, and so set apart indi- viduals who shall employ themselves on the instruction of their fellows ; why we can have armies to defend the poor man's cottage and the rich man's pa- lace, and navies to prosecute commeixe, and preachers to stand up in our cities and villages, pointing mankind to Jesus of Nazareth — that the alone practical reason of all this must be sought in the fertility of the soil : for if the soil were not fertile enough to yield more than the tiller requires for himself, every man must be a husbandman, and none could follow any other avocations. So that, by an an-angement Avhich appears the more wonderful the more it is pon- dered, God hath literally wrought into the soil of this globe a provision for the varied wants, physical and moral, and intellectual, of the race whose ge- nerations possess successively, its pro- vinces. That which made wealth pos- sible was equally a preparation for the well-being of poverty. And though you may trace, with a cui'ious accuracy, the rise and progress of sciences ; and map do\vn the steps of the march of civilization ; and show how, in the ad- vancings of a nation, the talented and enterprising have carried on crusades against ignorance and barbarism ; we can still bring you back to the dust out of which we were made, and bid you find in its particles the elements of the results on which your admiration is poured, and tie you down, with the ri- gor of a mathematical demonstration, to the mai-^ellous, though half-forgot- ten, fact, that God invested the ground with the power of ministering to man's many necessities — so that the arts by which the comforts of a pojnilation are multiplied, and the laws by which their rights are upheld, and the schools in which their minds are disciplined, and the churches in which their souls are instructed — all these may be referred to one and the same grand ordinance; all ascribed to that fruitfulness of the earth by which God, " of his goodness, has prepared for the poor." But we said that we should dwell at no great length on the first division of our subject; and we now, therefore, pass on to investigate the second. We are to show how the assertion holds good in spiritual things, that God, of his goodness, has prepared for the poor. Now we often set before you the noble doctrine of Scripture and our Church, that Christ died for the whole • woi'ld ; and that, consequently, the hu- man being can never be bom whose sins were not laid on the surety of the apostate. It is a deep and mysterious, but glorious, truth, that the sins of every man were punished in Jesus, so that the guiltiness of each indiridual pressed in upon the Mediator, and wrung out its penalties from his flesh and his spiint. The person of Christ Jesus was divine ; whilst in that person were united two natures, the human and divine. And on this account it v.as that the sins of every man could rush against the surety, and take their pe- nalty out of his anguish. It is not merely that Christ was the brother of every man. A man and his brother are walled-off, and separated, by their per- sonality. What is done by the one can- not be felt, as his own action, by the other. But Christ, by assuming our nature, took, as it were, a part of eve- ry man. He was not, as any of us is, a mere human individual. But having hu- man nature, and not human personality, he was tied, so to speak, by a most sen- 86 god's provision for the poor. eitive fibre, to each member of the enormous family of man. And along these unnumbered threads of sympathy there came travelling the evil deeds, and the evil thoughts, and the evil words, of every child of a rebellious seed ; and they knocked at liis heart, and asked for vengeance : and thus the nin became his own in every thing but Its guiltiness ; and the wondrous result was brought round, that he " who did no sin, neither was guile found in his mouth," 1 Peter, 2: 22, felt every sin which can ever be committed, and was pierced by it, and torn by it: and the alone innocent one — the sohtary unde- filed and unprofaned man — he was so bound up with each rebel against God that the I'ebellion, in all its ramifica- tions, seemed to throw itself into his heart; and, convulsing where it could not contaminate, dislocated the soul which it did not defile, and caused the thorough endurance of all the wretch- edness, and all the anguish, which were due to the transgressions of a mighty population. Ay, and it is because 1 can clearly perceive, that, in taking human nature, Christ fastened me to himself by one of those sympathetic threads v/hich can never be snapped, that I feel certified that every sin which I have committed, and every sin which I shall yet commit, went in upon the Mediator and swelled his suiferings. When he died, my sins, indeed, had not been per- petrated. Yet, forasmuch as they were to be perpetrated in the nature which he had taken to himself, they came crowding up from the unborn ages : and they ran, like molten lead, along the fibre which, even then, bound me to the Savior; and pouring themselves into the sanctuary of his righteous soul, contributed to the wiinging from him th(! mysterious cry, " mine iniquities" — mine, done in that nature, which is emphatically mine — " mine ini(piities have taken hold upon mo so tliat I am not able to look up; they are more than the hairs of my head ; therefore my heart failcth me." Psalm, 40 : 12. Now it wa.s thus with a distinct and specific reference to every individual, the poorest and the meanest of our race, that " the wonl was made fiesh," John, 1 : 14, anrl dwelt and died upon this earth. It was not merely that God caced for the world in the mass, as for a province of his empire tenanted by the wayward and the wretched. Ho cared for each single descendant ot Adam. We know, with an assurance which it is beyond the power of argu- ment to shake, that Christ Jesus tasted death for every man. We are commis- sioned to say to each individual — it matters not who he be, scorched by an eastern sun, or girt in by polar snows — the Son of the Eternal died for thee, for thee separately, for thee individu- ally. And if, then, you cannot find us the outcast unredeemed by the costly processes of the incarnation and ciiici- fixion; if, addressing ourselves to the least known, and the most insignificant of our species, we can tell him that, though he be but a unit, yea ahnost a cipher in the vast sum of human exist- ence, he has so engaged the solicitudes of the Almighty that a divine person undertook his suretyship, and threw down the barriers which sin had cast up between him and happiness — oh, have we not an overpowering proof, that God has been mindful of the des- pised ones and the destitute ; and whilst we can appeal to such provision on be- half of the poor as places heaven with- in their reach, in all its magnificence, and in all its blessedness, where is the tongue that can presume to deny that (lod hath, " of his goodness, prepared for the poor 1 " But we cannot content ourselves with this general proof. It seems implied in our text — that this is the point which we seek to establish — that, in spiritual things, God has prepared for the poor even more than for the rich. We pro- ceed, then, to observe that God has so manifested a tender and imjiartial con- cern ibr his creatures, as to have thrown advantages round poverty which may well be said to counterbalance its dis- advantages. It is unquestionable that the condition of a poor man is more favorable than that of a rich to the re- ception of Christ. Had not this been matter-of-fact, the Redeemer would ne- ver have pronounced it "easier for a camel to go through a needle's eye, than for a rich man to enter into the kingdom of heaven." Luke, 18 : 25. There is in poverty what we may al- mtjst call a natural tendency to the lead- ing men to dcpeiulence on (Jod, and faith in his promises. On the other GOD S PROVISION FOR THE POOR. 87 nand, there is in wealth just as natural a tendency to the production of a spirit of haughty and infidel independence. The poor man, harassed with difficul- ties in earning a scanty subsistence for himself and his household, will have a readier car for tidings of a bright home beyond the grave, than the rich man, who, lapped in luxury, can imagine no- thing more delightful than the unbro- ken continuance of present enjoyments. Poverty, in short, is a humiliating and dejiressing thing; whilst affluence nur- tures pride and elation of mind. And in proportion, therefore, as all which has kinsmanship with humility is favor- able to piety, all wl^ch has kinsman- ship with haughtiness unfavorable, we may fairly argue that the poor man has an advantage over the rich, considoi'ing them both as appointed to immortality. But not only has God thus merciful- ly introduced a kind of natural coun- terpoise to the allowed evils of pover- ty : in the institution of a method of redemption, he may specially be said to have prepared for the mean and the destitute. There is nothing in the pre- scribed duties of religion, which, in the least degree, requires that a man should be a man 'of learning or leisure. We take the husbandman at his plough, or the manufacturer at his loom ; and we can tell him, that, whilst he goes on, uninterruptedly, with his daily toil, the grand business of his soul's salvation may advance with an uniform march. We do not require that he should i-elax in his industry, or abstract some hours from usual occupations, in order to learn a cornplicated plan, and study a scheme which demands time and intel- lect for its mastery. The Gospel mes- sage is so exquisitely simple, the sum and substance of truth may be so gath- ered into brief and easily understood sentences, that all which it is absolute- ly necessary to know may be told in a minute, and borne about with him by the laborer in the field, or the mariner ou the waters, or the soldier on the odttlc-plain. We reckon it far the most wonderful feature in the Bible, that, whilst presenting a sphere for the long- est and most pains-taking research — exhibiting heights which no soarings of imagination can scale, and depths which no fathoming-line of intellect can explore — it sets forth the way of salva- tion with so much of unadorned plain- ness, that it may as readily be under- stood by the child or the peasant, as by the full-grown man or the deep-read philosopher. Who will keep back the tribute of acknowledgment that God, of his own goodness, has prepared for the poor 1 If an individual be possess- ed of commanding genius, gifted with powers which far remove him from the herd of his fellows, he will find in the pages of Scripture beauties, and diffi- culties, and secrets, and wonders, which a long life-time of study shall leave un- exhausted. But the man of no preten- sions to talent, and of no opportunities for research, may turn to the Bible in quest of comfort and direction ; and there he will find traced as with a sun- beam, so that none but the wilfully blind can overlook the record, guidance for the lost, and consolation for the downcast. We say that it is in this preparation for the poor that the word of God is most surprising. View the matter how you will, the Bible is aa much the unlearned man's book as it is the learned, as much the poor man's as it is the rich. It is so composed as to suit all ages and all classes. And whilst the man of learning and capacity is poring upon the volume in the retirement of his closet, and employing all the stores of a varied literature on the illustrating its obscui'ities and the solving its diffi- culties, the laborer may be sitting at his cottage-door, with his boys and his girls drawn around him, explaining to them, from the simply-written pages, how great is the Almighty, and how precious is Jesus. Nay, we shall not overstep the boundaries of truth if we carry these statements yet a little fur- ther. We hold that the Bible is even more the poor man's book than the rich man's. There is a vast deal of the Bi- ble which appears written with the ex- press design of verifying our text, that God, of his goodness, has " prepared for the poor." There are many of the promises which seem to demand pov- erty as the element wherein alone their full lustre can radiate. The prejudices, moreover, of the poor man against the truths which the volume opens up are likely to be less strong, and inveterate, than those of the rich man. He seems to have, naturally, a kind of compan- ionship with a suffering Redeemer, who GOD S PROVISION FOR THE POOR. had not " where to lay his head." Luke, 8: 58. He can have no repugnance, but, on the contraiy, a sort uf instinc- tive attachment, to apostles who, Hke himself, wrought with their own hands for the supply of daily necessities. He can feel himself, if we may use such expression, at home in the scenery, and amongst the leading characters, of the New Testament. Whereas, on the other hand, the scientific man, and the man of education, and of influence, and of high bearing in society, will have pre- possessions, and habits of thinking, with which the announcements of the Gos- pel will unavoidably jar. He has, as it were, to be brought down to the level of the poor man, before he can pass un- der the gateway which stands at the outset of the path of salvation. He has to begin by learning the comparative worthlcssness of many distinctions, which, never having been placed with- in the poor man's reach, stand not as obstacles to his heavenward progress. And if there be correctness in this re- presentation, it is quite evident that if the Gospel be, for the first time, put into the hands, or proclaimed in the hearing, of a man of rank and of a mean man, the likelihood is far greater that the mean man will lay hold, effective- ly and savingly, on the truth, than that the man of rank will thus grasp it : and our conclusion, therefore, comes out strong and irresistible, that, if there be advantage on either side, the Bible is even more nicely adapted to the poor than to the rich ; and that, consequent- ly, it is most emphatically true, that, " thou, O God, hast pi'epared of thy goodness for the poor." But there is yet another point on which we think it well to turn briefly your attention ; for it is one which is, oftentimes, not a little misunderstood. We know that what are termed the evi- dences of Christianity are of a costly and intricate description, scarcely ac- cessible except to the studious. It is hardly to be supposed that the unlet- tered man can have mastered the ex- ternal arguments which go to prove the divine origin of our faith. And if the Almighty have placed the witness for the truth of Christianity lieyond the poor man's grasp, has he not loft the poor man open to the inroads of scep- ticism; and how, thereiure, can It be said that he has of his goodness " pre- pared for the poor ] " There is much in the aspect of the times Avhich gives powerful interest to such a question as this. Whilst all ranks are assailed by the emissaries of infidelity, it is import- ant that wc see whether God has not prepared for all ranks some engines oi resistance. Now we are never afraid of subject- ing the external evidences of Christi- anity to the most sifting processes which our adversaries can invent. We do not receive a religion without proof; and our proof we will bring to the best touchstones of truth. Christianity is not the grave, but the field of vigoi'ous inquiry. And we see not, therefore, why scepticism should claim to itsdlf a monopoly of intellect. The high- road to reputation for talent seems to be boldness in denying Christianity. Ay, and many a young man passes now- a-days for a fine and oinginal genius, who could not distinguish himself in the honorable competitions of an uni^ versity, who makes no way in his pro- fession, and is nothing better than a cypher in society ; but who is of so in- dependent a spirit that he can jeer at priestcraft in a club-room, and of so in- ventive a turn that he can ply Scrip- ture with objections a hundred times refuted. But the evidences of Christianity are not to be set aside by a sneci'. Wc will take our stand as on a mount thrown up in the broad waste of many genera- tions ; and one century after another shall struggle forth from the sepulchres of the past ; and each, as its monarchs, and its warriors, and its priests, walk dimly under review, shall lay down a tribute at the feet of Christianity. We will have the volume of history spread out before us, and bid science arrange her manifold developments, and seek the bones of martyrs in the east and in the wesr, and tread upon battle-plains with an empire's dust sepulchred be- neath; but on whatsoever we gaze, and whithersoever we turn, the evidences of our religion shall look nobler, and wax mightier. It were the work of a life-time to gain even cursory acquaint- ance with the proofs which substan- tiate the claims of Christianity. It would beat down the energies of the most gifted and masterful spirit, to re GOD S PROVISION FOR THE POOR. 89 quire it to search out, and. concentrate, whatsoever attests the truth of the Gos- pel — for the mountains of the eartli have a voice, and the cities, and the valUes, and the tomhs ; and the sail must be un- furled to bear the inquirer over every ocean, and the wings of morning must cany him to the outskirts of infinite space. We will not concede that a more overwhelming demonstration would be given to the man who should stand side by side with a messenger from the invis- ible world, and hear from celestial lips the spirit-stirring news of redemption, and be assured of the reality of •the in- terview by a fiery cross left stamped on his forehead, than is actually to be at- tained by him who sits down patiently and assiduously, and plies, with all the diligence of an unwearied laborer in the mine of information, at accumulating and arrano^inn: the evidences of christian- ity. So that we may well think our- selves warranted in contending that God has marvellously prepared for the faith of educated men. Scepticism, whatever its boasts, walks to its conclusions over a fettered reason, and a forgotten crea- tion. And any man who will study carefully, and think candidly, shall rise from his inquiry a believer in revelation. But what say we to the case of the poor man 1 How hath God, of his good- ness, " prepared for the poor ] " It may be certain that the external evidences of chi-istianity amount to a demonstra- tion, which, when fairly put, is altogeth- er irresistible. But it is just as certain that the generality of believers can have little or no acquaintance with these evi- dences. It were virtually the laying an interdict on the Christianity of the lower orders, to establish a necessity, that mastery of the evidences must precede belief in the doctrines of the Gospel. We can see no result but that of limit- ing the very existence of religion to the academy or the cloister, and prohibiting its circulation through the dense masses of our population, if the only method of certifying one's self that the Bible is from God were that of searching through the annals of antiquity, and following out the testimcmy arranged by the laboi's of suc- cessive generations. And yet, on the other hand, it were just as fatal to the Christianity of our peasantry, to main- tain that they take for .granted the di- vine origin of the Gosjjel, and that they can give no better reason than that of long-established custom, why the Biblft should be received as a communication from heaven. We say that this would be as fatal as the former supposition to the Christianity of our peasantry. A belief which has nothing to rest on, de- serves not to be designated belief; and, unable to sustain itself by reason, must yield at the first onset of scepticism. But there can be nothing more unjust than the conclusion, that the poor man has no evidence within reach, because he has not the external. We will not allow that God has failed, in this respect, to prepare for the poor. We will go into the cottage of the poor disciple of Christ, and we will say to him, why do you believe upon Jesus ? You know little or nothino; about the witnesses of antiquity. You know little or nothmg about the completion of prophecy. You can give me no logical, no grammatical, no historical reasons for concluding the Bible to be, what it professes itself, a revelation, made in early times, of the will of the Almighty. Why then do you believe upon Jesus 1 What grounds have you for faith, what basis of convic- tion 1 Now if the poor man lay bare his ex- perience, he v/ill, probably, show how God hath prepared for him, by giving such a reply as the following : I lived Ions: vmconcerned about the soul. I thought only on the pleasures of to-day : I cared nothing for the worm which might gnaw me to-morrow. T was brought, however, by sickness, or by disappointment, or by the death of the one I best loved, or by a startling ser- mon, to fear that all was not right be- tween me and God. I grew more and more anxious. Terrors haunted me by day, and sleep went from my pillow by niffht. At leno^th I was bidden to look unto Jesus as " delivered for my offen- ces, and raised again for my justifica- tion." Romans, 4 : 25. Instantly I felt him to be exactly the Savior that I need- ed. Every want found in him an imme- diate supply ; every fear a cordial ; ev- ery wound a balm. And ever since, the more I have read of the Bible, the more have I found that it must have been written on purpose for myself It seems to know all my cares, all my temptations ; and it speaks so beautifully a word in season, that he who wrote it must, I 12 90 GOD S PROVISION FOR THE POOR. think, have had me in his eye. ^VTiy do I believe in Jesus 1 Oh, I feel him to be a divine Savior — that is my proof. Why do I beUcve the Bible l I have found it to be God's word — there is my witness. We think, assuredly, that if you take the expeiicncc of the generality of christians, you will find that they do not believe without proof We again say, tliat we cannot assent to the proposition that the Christianity of our villages and hamlets takes for granted the truth of the Bible, and has no reason to give when that truth is called in question. The peasant who, when the hard toil of the day is concluded, will sit by his fire- side, and read the Bible with all the ea- gerness, and all the confidence, of one who receives it as a message from God, has some better ground than common report, or the tradition of his forefathers, on which to rest his persuasion of the divinity of the volume. The book speaks to him with a force which he feels never could belong to a mere human composition. There is drawn such a picture of his own heart — a picture pre- senting many features which he would not have discovered, had they not been thus outlined, but which he recognizes as most accurate, the instant they are exhibited — that He can be sure that the painter is none other but he who alone searches the heart. The pi-oposed de- liverance agrees so wonderfully, and so minutely with his wants ; it manifests such unbounded and equal concern for the honor of God, and the well-being of man ; it provides with so consummate a skill, that, whilst the humajl race is re- deemed, the divine attributes shall be glorified ; that it Avere like telling him that a creature spread out the firmament, and inlaid it with worlds, to tell him that the proflered salvation is the device of impostors, or the figment of enthusi- asts. And thus the pious inmate of the workshop or the cottage " hath the wit- ness in himself" 1 St. John, 5 : 10. The home-thrusts which he receives from " the sword of the Spirit," Ephe- sians, G : 17, are his evidence that the weapon is not of earthly manufacture. The surprising manner in which texts Avill start, as it were, from the page, and become spoken things rather than writ- ten ; so that the Bible, shaking itself from the trammels of the printing-press. seems to rush fi om the firmament in the breathings of tlic Omnipotent — this stamps Scripture to him 'as literally God's word — prophets and apostles may have wiitten it, but the Almighty still utters it. And all this makes the evi- dence with Avhich the poor man is pre- pared in defence of Christianity. We do not represent it as an evidence which may successively be brought forward in professed combat with infidelity. It must have been experienced before it can be admitted ; and not being of a nature to commend itself distinctly to the under- standing of the sceptic, will be rejected by him as visionary, and therefore, re- ceived not in proof. But if the self- evidencing power of Scripture render not the peasant a match for the unbe- liever, it nobly secures him against be- ing himself overborne. " The witness in himself," if it qualify him not, like science and scholarship, for the ofi'ensive, will render him quite impregnable, so long as he stands on the defensive. And we believe of many a village christian, who has never read a line on the evi- dences of Christianity, and whose whole theology is drawn from the Bible itself, that he would be, to the full, as stanch in withstanding the emissaries of scep- ticism as the mightiest and best equip- ped of our learned divines; and that, if he could give no answer to his assailant whilst urging his chronological and his- torical objections, yet by falling back on his own experience, and entrenching himself within the manifestations of truth which have been made to his own conscience, he would escape the giving harborage, for one instant, to a suspi- cion that Christianity is a fable ; and holds fast, in all its beauty, and in all its integrity, the truth, that "we have an advocate with the Father, Christ Jesus the righteous, and he is the propitiation of our sins." 1 John, 2 : 1. Yea, it is a growing and strengthen- ing evidence which God, of his goodness has thus prepared for our poor. When- soever they obey a direction of Scripture, and find the accompanying promise ful- filled, this is a new proof that the direc- tion and promise arc from God. The book tells them that blessings are to be sought and olitaincd through the name of Christ. They ask and they receive. What is this but a witness that the book is divine 1 Would God give his sanction god's provision for the poor. 91 to a lie ? The book assures tlicm that the Holy Spirit will gradually sauctily those who believe upon Jesus. They find the sanctihcation following on the belief; and does not this attest the au- thority of the volume 1 The book de- clares that " all things work together for good," Rom. 8 : 28, to the disciples of JcBUS. They find that prosperity and adversity, as each brings its trials, so each its lessons and supports ; and whilst God thus continually verifies a declaiation, can they doubt that he made it 1 And thus, day by day, the self-evi- dencing power of Scripture comes into fuller operation, and experience multi- plies and strengthens the internal testi- m(my. The peasant will discover more and more that the Bible and the con- science so fit into each other, that the artificer who made one must have equal- ly fashioned both. His life will be an on-going proof that Scripture is truth ; for his days and hours are its chajDters and verses realized to the letter. And others may admire the shield which the industry and ingenuity of learned men have thrown over Christianity. They may speak of the solid rampart cast up by the labor of ages ; and pronounce the faith unassailable, because history, and philosophy, and science have all combined to gird round it the iron, and the rock, of a ponderous and collossal demonstration. We, for our part, glory most in the fact, that Scripture so com- mends itself to the conscience, and ex- perience so bears out the Bible, that the Gospel can go the rounds of the world and carry with it, in all its travel, its own mighty credentials. And though we depreciate not, but rather confess thankfully, the worth of external evi- dence, we still think it the noblest pro- vision of God, that if the external were destroyed, the internal would remain, and uphold splendidly Christianity. There is nothing which we reckon more wonderful in arrangement, nothing more deserving all the warmth of our grati- tude, than that divine truth, by its innate poAver, could compel the Corinthian sce{)tic, t Cor. 14 : 25, to fall down upon his face ; and that this truth, by the same innate power, can so satisfy a reader of its own origin, that ploughmen, as well as theologians, have reason for their hope ; and the Christianity of villages, aa much as the Christianity of universi- ties, can defy infidelity, and hold on un- daunted by all the bufietings of the ad- versary. And if we now sum up this portion of our argument, we may say, that God has so constructed his word that it car- ries with it its own witness to the poor man's intellect, and the poor man's heart. Thus, although it were idle to contend that the poor can show you, with a learned precision, the authenticity of Scripture, or call in the aids which philosophy has furnished, or strengthen their faith from the wondcrwoikings of nature, or mount and snatch conviction from the glittering tracery on the over- head canopy; still they may feel, whilst perusing the Bible, that it so speaks to the heart, that it tells them so fully all they most want to know, that it so veri- fies itself in every-day experience, that it humbles them so much and rejoices them so much, that it strkes with such energy on every chord — in short, that it so commends itself to every faculty as purely divine — that they could sooner believe that God made not the stars, than that God wrote not the Scriptures : and thus, equipped with powerful ma- chinery for resisting the infidel, they give proof the most conclusive, that " thou, O God, hast prepared, of thy goodness, for the poor." Such are the illustrations which we would advance of the truth of our text, when reference is had to spiritual pro- vision. We shall only, in conclusion, commend the subject to your earnest meditation ; assuring you that the more it is examined, the more it will be found fraught with interest and instruction. There is something exquisitely touching in an exhibition of God as providing sedulously, both in temporal and spir- itual things, for the poor and illiterate. " The eyes of all wait upon thee, and thou givest them their meat in due sea- son." Psalm 145 : 15. God is that man-ellous being to whom the only great thing is Himself A world is to Him an atom, and an atom is to Him a world. And as, therefore, he cannot be master- ed by what is vast and enormous, so he cannot overlook what is minute and in- significant. There is not, then, a smile on a poor man's cheek, and there is not a tear in a poor man's eye, either of which is independent on the providence of Him who gilds with the lustre of his 92 GUD's PROVISrONT FOR THE POOR. countenance, the unlimited concave, and measures in the hollow of his hand, the waters of fathomless oceans. And that " the poor have the Gospel preached to them," IMatt. 11 : 5, is one of the strong- est evidences on the side of Christiani- ty. It was given to John the Baptist as a mark by wiiich he might prove Christ the promised Messiah. He might hence learn that Jesus had come, not to make God known, exclusively, to the learned and great ; but that, breaking loose from the trammels of a figurative dispensa- tion, he was dealing with the mechanic at his wheel, and with the slave at his drudgery, and with the beggar in his destitution. Had Clirist sent to the im- prisoned servant of the Lord, and told him he Avas fascinating the philosopher with sublime disclosures of the nature of Deity, and drawing after him the learned of the earth by powerful and rhetorical delineations of the wonders of the invisible world ; that, all the while, he had no commvmications for the poor and commonplace crowd ; whj', J ohn might have been dazzled, for a time, by the splendor of his miracles, and he might' have mused, Avonderingly, on the displayed ascendancy over diseases and death ; but quickly, he must have thought this is not revealing God to the igno- rant and destitute, and this cannot be the religion designed for all nations and ranks. But when the announcement of wonder workings was followed by the declaration that glad tidings of deliver- ance were being published to the poor, the Baptist would readily perceive, that the long looked-for close to a limited dispensation was contemplated in the mission of .Tesus ; that Jesus, in short, was introducing precisely the system which Messiah might be expected to introduce ; and thus, finding that the doctrines bore out the miracles, he would admit at once his pretensions, not mere- ly because he gave sight to the blind, but because, pieaching the Gospel to the ignorant, he showed that God, of his goodness, had prepared for the poor. And that the Gfispel should be adapt- ed, as well as preached, to the poor — adapted in credentials as well as in doc- trines — this is one of those arrange- ments, which, as devised, show infinite love, as executed, infinite wisdom. Who will deny that God hath thrown himself into Christianity, even as into the system of the visible universe, since tht meanest can trace his footsteps, and feel themselves environed with the march- ings of the Eternal One 1 Oh, we do think it cause of mighty gratulation. in days when infidelity, no longer confining itself to lilerary circles, has gone down to the homes and haunts of our peasan- try, and seeks to prosecute an inijiious crusade amongst the veiy lowest of our peoj^le — we do think it cause of mighty gratulation, that God shoTild have thus garrisoned the poor against the inroads of scepticism. We have no fears for the vital and substantial Christianity of the humbler classes of society. They may seem, at first sight, imequipped for the combat. On a human calculation, it might mount almost to a certainty, that infidel publications, or infidel men, work- ing their way into the cottages of the land, would gain an easy victory, and bear down, Avithout difficulty, the faith and piety of the unprepared inmates. But God has had a care for the poor of the flock. He loves them too well to leave them defenceless. And noAv — appealing to that witness which every one who believes will find in himself — we can feel that the Christianity of the illiterate has in it as much of stamina as the Christianity of the educated ; and we can, therefore, be confident that the scepticism which shrinks from the batte- ries of the learned theologian, will gain no triumphs at the firesides of our God- fearing rustics. We thank thee, O Father of heaven and earth, that thou hast thus made tho Gospel of thy Son its own witness, and its own rampart. We thank thee that thou didst so breathe thyself into apos- tles and prophets, that their wi-itings are thine utterance, and declared to all ages thine authorship. And now, what have we to ask, but that, if there be one here who has hitherto been stouthearted and unbelieving, the delivered word may prove itself divine, by " piercing even to the dividing asunder of soul and spirit ;" Heb. 4 : 12 ; and that, whilst we announce that "God is angry Avith the wicked ;" Psalm 7:11; that those Avho forget Him shall be turned into hell ; but that, nevertheless, he hath " so loved the Avorld as to give his only-be* gotten Son," John, 3 : 16, for its re- demption — oh, Ave ask that the careless one, hearing truths at once so terrifying. ST. PAUL A TENT-MAKER. 93 and so encouraging may be humbled to the dust, and yet animated with hope ; and tliat, stirred by the divinity which embodies itself" in the message, he may flee, " poor in spirit," Mat. 5:3, to Jesus, and, drawing out of his fulness, be enabled to testify to all around, that " thou, O God, hast of thy goodness pre- pared for the poor." SEEMON IX. ST. PAUL A TENT-MAKER. • And because lio was of the same craft, he abode with them and wrought, for by their occupation they were tent makers." — ^Acts, xviii. 3. The argument which may be drawn, in support of Christianity, from the humble condition of its earliest teachers, is often, and fairly, insisted on in dispu- tations with the sceptic. We scarcely know a finer vantage-ground, on which the champion of truth can plant himself, than that of the greater credulity which must be shown in the rejection, than in the reception, of chiistianity. We mean to assert, in spite of the tauntings of those most thorough of all bondsmen, free-thinkers, that the faith required from deniers of revelation is far larger than that demanded from its advocates. He who thinks that the setting up of Christianity may satisfactorily be accoun- ted for on the supposition of its false- hood, taxes credulity a vast deal more than he who believes all the prodigies, and all the miracles, recorded in Scrip- ture. The most marvellous of all pro- digies, and the most surpassing of all miracles, would be the progi'ess of the christian religion, .supposing it untrue. And, assuredly, he who has wrought oimself into the belief that such a won- der has been exhibited, can have no right to boast himself shrewder, and more cautious, than he who holds, that, at human bidding, the sun stood still, or that tempests were hushed, and graves rifled, at the command of one " found in fashion " as ourselves. The fact that Christianity strode onward with a resist- less march, making triumphant way against the banded power, and learning, and jDrejudices of the world — this fact, we say, requir-es to be accounted for ; and inasmuch as there is no room for questioning its accuracy, we ask, in all I justice, to be furnished with its expla- nation. We turn, naturally, from the result to the engines by which, to all human appearance, the result was brought round ; from the system preach- ed to the preachers themselves. Were those who first propounded Christianity men who, from station in society, and influence over their fellows, were likely to succeed in palming falsehood on the world ] Were they possessed of such machinery of intelligence, and wealth, and might, and science, that — every al- lowance being made for human credu- lity and human infatuation — there would api)ear the very lowest probability, that, having forged a lie, they could have caused it speedily to be venerated as truth, and carried along the earth's diameter amid the worshippings of thou- sands of the earth's population 1 We 94 ST. PAUL A TENT-MAKER. have no intention, on the present oc- casion, of pursuing the argument. But we are persuaded that no candid mind can observe^ the speed with wliich Christi- anity overran the civilized world, com- pelling the homage of kings, and casting down the altars of long cherished super- stitions ; and tlicn compare the means with the eflect — the apostles, men of low birth, and poor education, backed by no authority, and possessed of none of those high-wrought endowments which mark out the achievers of diffi- cult enterprise — we are jiersuaded, we say, that no candid mind can set what is done side by side with the apparatus through which it was effected, and not confess, that of all incredible things, the most incredible would be, that a few fishermen of Galilee vanquished the world, upheaving its idolatries, and mas- tering its prejudices, and yet that their only weapon was a lie, their only me- chanism jugglery and deceit. And this it is which the sceptic be- lieves. Yea, on his belief of this he grounds claims to a sounder, and shrewder, and less fettered understand- ing, than belongs to the mass of his fel- lows. He deems it the mark of a weak and ill disciplined intellect to admit the truth of Christ's raising the dead ; but appeals in proof of a stanch and well- informed mind, to his belief that this whole planet was convulsed by the blow of an infant. He scorns the narrow- mindedness of submission to Avhat he calls priestcraft ; but counts himself large-minded, because he admits that a priestcraft, only worthy his contempt, ground into powder every system which he thinks worthy of his admiration. He laughs at the credulity of supposing that God had to do with the institution of Christianity ; and then applauds the so- ; briety of referring to chance what bears all the marks of design — proving him- self jational by holding that causes are not necessary to effects. Thus we recur to our position, that if the charge of credulity must be fast- ened on cither the opponents, or the advocates, of Christianity, then, of the two, the opponents lie vastly open to the accusation. Men pretend to a more than ordinary wisdom because they re- ject, as incredible, occurrences and transactions which others account for as supernatural. But where is their much- vaunted wisdom, when it can be sho^vn to a demonstration, that they admit things a thousand-fold stranger than those, which, with all the parade of in- tellectual superiority, they throw from them as too monstrous for credence ? We give it you as a truth, susceptible of the rigor of mathematical proof, that the phenomena of Christianity can only be explained by conceding its divinity. If Christianity came from God, there is an agency adequate to the result ; and you can solve its making way amongst the nations. But if Christianity came not from God, no agency can be assign ed at all commensurate with the result ; and you cannot account for its march- ings over the face of the earth. So that when — setting aside every other consid- ei'ation — we mark the j^alpable unfit- ness of the apostles for devising and caiTying into effect, a grand scheme of imposture, we feel that we do right in retorting on the sceptic, the often urged charge of credulity. We tell him, that if it prove a clear-sighted intellect, to believe that unsupported men would league in an enterprise which was noth- ing less than a crusade against the world ; that ignorant men could concoct a system overpassing, confessedly, the wisdom of the noblest of the heathen ; and that the insignificant and une(juip- ped band would go through fire and water, brave the lion and dare the stake, knowing, all the while, that they battled for a lie, and crowned, all the while, with overpowering success — ay, we tell the sceptic, that, if a belief such as this prove a clear-sighted intellect, he is welcome to the laurels of reason ; and we, for our part, shall contentedly herd with the irrational, who are weak enough to think it credible that the apostles were messengers from God — and only incredible that mountains fell when there was nothing to shake them, and oceans dried uj) when there was nothing to drain them, and that there passed over a creation an unmeasured revolution without a cause, and without a mover, and without a Deity. Now we have advanced these hurried remarks on a well known topic of (;hris- tian advocacy, because our text leads us, as it were, into the wi/rkshop of the first teachers of our faith, and thus for- ces on us the contemplation of their lowly and destitute e3';ate. It is not ST. PAUL A TENT-MAKER. 95 however, our design to pursue further the argument. We may derive other, and not less important, lessons from the fiimple exhibition of Paul, and Aipiila, and Priscilla, plying their occupation as tent-makers. It should just be pre- mised, that, so far as Paul himself is concerned, w^e must set down his labor- ing for a living as actually a consequence on his preaching Christianity. Before he engaged in the service of Christ, he had occupied a station in the upper walks of society, and was not, we may believe, dependent on his industry for his bread. It was, however, the custom of the Jews to teach children, whatever the rank of their parents, some kind of handicraft ; so that, in case of a reverse of circumstances, they might have a re- source to which to betake themselves. We conclude that, in accordance with this custom, St. Paul, as a boy, had leai"n- ed the art of tent-making ; though he may not have exercised it for a subsis- tence until he had spent all in the ser- vice of Jesus. We appeal not, there- fore, to the instance of this great apos- tle to the Gentiles as confirming, in every respect, our foregoing argument. St. Paul was eminent both for learning and talent. And it would not, therefore, be just to reason from his presumed incompetency to carry on a difficult scheme, since, at the least, he was not disqualified for undertakings which crave a master-spirit at their head. It is certain, however, that, in these re- spects, St. Paul was an exception to the rest of the first preachers of Christianity. Our general reasoning, therefore, re- mains quite unaffected, whatever be urged in regard to a particular case. But we have already said, that the main business of our discourse is to de- rive other lessons from our text than that which refers to the evidences of Christianity. We waive, therefore, fur- ther inquiry into that proof of the divin- ity of the system which is furnished by the poverty of the teachers. We will sit down, as it were, by St. Paul whilst busied with his tent-making ; and, con- sidering who and what the individual is who thus lives by his artisanship, draw that instruction from the scene which we may suppose it intended to furnish. Now called as St. Paul had been by miracle to the apostleship of Christ, so that he was suddenly transformed from a persecutor into a preacher of the faith, we might well look to find in him a pre- eminent zeal; just as though the un- earthly light, which flashed across his path, had entered into his heart, and lit up there a fire inextinguishable by the deepest waters of trouble. And it is beyond all peradventure, that there ne- ver moved upon our earth a heartier, more unwearied, more energetic, disci- ple of Jesus. His motto was to " count all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ ; " Phil. 2:8; and crossing seas, and exhausting con- tinents, till a vast portion of the known world had heard from his lips the ti- dings of redemption, he proved the motto engraven on his soul, and showed that the desire of bringing the perishing into acquaintance with a Savior was nothing less than the life's blood of his system. And we are bound to suppose, that, where there existed so glowing a zeal, prompting him to be " instant in season, out of season," 2 Tim. 4 : 2, the irk- someness of mechanical labor must have been greater than it is easy. to compute. Since the whole soul was wrapped up in the work of the ministry, it could not have been without a feeling, amounting almost to painfulness, that the apostle abstracted himself from the business of his embassage, and toiled at providing for his own bodily necessities. We see, at once, that so far as any appointment of God could be grievous to a man of St. Paul's exemplary holiness, this ap- pointment must have been hard to en dure : and we cannot contemplate the great apostle, withdrawn from the spirit- stiiTing scenes of his combats with idol- atry, and earning a meal like a common artificer, and not feel, that the effort of addressing the Athenians, congregated on Areopagus, was as nothing to that of sitting down patiently to all the drudg- ery of the craftsman. But we go on to infer from these un- questionable facts, that, unless there had been great ends which St. Paul's labor- ing subserved, God would not have per- mitted this sore exercise of his servant. There is allotted to no christian a trial without a reason. And if then we are once certified, that the working for his bread was a trial to St. Paul, we must go forward and investigate the reasons of the appointment. Now we learn from the epistles of St. 96 ST. PAUL A TENT-MAKER. Paul, that when he refused to be main- tained by the churches which he plant- ed, it was through fear that the success of liis preaching might be interfered with by suspicions of his disinterested- ness. He chose to give the Gospel without cost, in order that his enemies might have no plea for representing him as an hireling, and thus depi'eciating his message. In this respect he appears to have acted dilVercntly from the other apostles, since we find him thus expos- tulating with the Coi'inthians : " have we not power to eat and to drink 1 or I only and Barnabas, liave not we power to forbear working 1 " 1 Cor. 9 : 4, 6. He evidently argues, that, had he so pleased, he might justly have done what his fellow-apostles did, receive tempo- ral benefits fi'ora those to whom they were the instruments of communicating spiritual. It was a law, whose justice admitted not of controversy, that " the laborer is worthy of his hire." 1 Tim. 5 : 18, And, therefore, however cir- cumstances might arise, rendering it ad- visable that the right should be waived, St. Paul desired the Corinthians to un- derstand, that, had he chosen, he might have claimed the sustenance for which he was contented to toil. It was a right, and not a favor, which he waived. And if there were no other lesson deducible fi-om the manual occupation of the apos- tle, we should do well to ponder the di- rection thus practically given, that we remove all occasions of offence. St. Paul gave up even his rights, fearing lest their enforcement might possibly impede the progress of the Gospel. So single-eyed was this great teacher of the Gentiles, that when the reception of the message, and the maintenance of the messenger, seemed at all likely to clash, he would gladly devote the day to the service of others, and then toil through the night to make provision for himself If ever, therefore, it happen, cither to minister or to people, to find that the pushing a claim, or the insisting on a right would bring discredit, though un- justly and wrongfully, on the cause of religion ; let it be remembered that our prime business, as professors of godli- ness, is with the glory of God and the advance of the Gospel ; that the avoid- ing evil is a great thing, but that the scriptural requisition is, that we avoid even the " appearance of evil." 1 Thess. 5 : 22. And if there seem to us a hard- ness in this, so that we count it too much of concession, that we fall back from demands which strict justice would waiTant, let us betake ourselves, for an instant, to the workshop of St. Paul ; and there remembering, A\hilst this servant of Christ is fashioning the canvass, that he labors for bread, which, by an indis- putable title, is already his own, we may learn it a christian's duty to allow him- self to be wronged, when, by stanch standing to his rights, Christ's cause may be injured. But as yet we are only on the out- skirts of our sxibject. The grand field of inquiry still remains to be traversed. We have seen, that, in order to foreclose all question of his sincerity and disinter- estedness, St. Paul chose to ply at his tent-making rather than derive a mainte- nance from his preaching. We next ob- serve, that, had not his poverty been on other accounts advantageous, we can scarcely think that this single reason would have procured its permission. He might have refused to draw an in- come from his converts, and yet not have been necessitated to betake himself to handicraft. We know that God could have poured in upon him, through a thousand channels, the means of subsis- tence ; and we believe, therefore, that had his toiling subsciTed no end but the removal of causes of offence, his wants would have been supplied, though with- out any burden on the churches. So that the question comes before us, un- solved and unexamined, why was it per- mitted that St. Paul, in the midst of his exertions as a minister of Christ, should be compelled to support himself by man- ual occupation ] We think that two great reasons may be advanced, each of which will deserve a careful examina- tion. In the first jilace, God hereby put much honor upon industry : in the se cond place, God hereby showed, that where he has appointed means, he will not work by miracles. We will take these reasons in succession, proceeding at once to endeavor to prove, that, in leaving St. Paul to toil as a tent-maker, God put much honor upon industry. Now it is true that the appointment, " in the sweat of thy face shalt thou eat bread," Gen. 3 : 19, was part of the ori- ginal malediction which apbstacy caused to be breathed over this creation. But ST. PAUL A TENT-MAKER. OT It is equally true that labor was God's ordinance whilst man kept unsullied his loyalty, and that it was not bound upon our race as altogether a consequence on transgression. We may not be- lieve that in paradise labor could ever have been wearisome ; but we know that, from the first, labor was actually man's business. We are told, in the book of Genesis, that when the Lord God had planted the garden, and fash- ioned man after his own image, " he took the man and put him into the gar- den, to dress it, and to keep it." Gen. 2 : 15. There was no curse upon the ground ; and, therefore, we suppose not that it required, ere it would give forth a produce, the processes of a diligent husbandry. But, nevertheless, it is clear that the resting of God's first blessing on the soil, put not aside all necessity of cultui'e. Man was a labor- er from the beginning : God's earliest ordinance appearing to have been that man should not be an idler. So that whilst we admit that all that painfulness and exhaustion, which waits ordinarily upon human occupation, must be traced up to disobedience as a parent, we con- tend that employment is distinctly God's institution for mankind, no reference whatsoever being made to the innocence or guiltiness of the race. God sancti- fied the seventh day as a day of rest, be- fore Adam disobeyed, and thus marked out six days as days of labor and em- ployment, before sin sowed the seeds of the thorn and the thistle. We may sup- pose, that, previously to the fall, labor, so to speak, was just one department of piety ; and that in tilling the ground, or watching the herds, man was as religi- ously occupied as when communing with God in distinct acts of devotion. The great and fatal alteration which sin has introduced into labor, is, that a wide separation has been made between tem- poral business and spiritual ; so that, whilst engaged in providing for the body, we seem wholly detached from paying attention to the concerns of the soul. But we hold it of first-rate importance to teach men that this separation is of their own making, and not of God's ap- pointing. God ordained labor : and God \ also ordained that man's great business on earth should be to secure his soul's safety through eternity. And unless, therefore, we admit that the work of the soul's salvation may bo actually advanced l)y, and through, our worldly occupations, we set one ordinance of God against an- other, and represent ourselves as imped- ed, by the appointments of our Maker, in the very business most pressed on our performance. The matter-of-fact is, that God may as truly be served by the husbandman whilst ploughing up his ground, and by the manufacturer whilst toiling at his loom, and by the merchant whilst engaged in his commerce, as he can be by any of these men when gath- ered by the Sabbath bell to the solemn assembly. It is a perfect libel on reli- gion, to represent the honest trades of mankind as aught else but the various methods in which God may be honored and obeyed. We do not merely mean that worldly occupations may be follow- ed without harm done to the soul. This would be no vindication of God's ordinance of labor. We mean that they maybe followed with benefit to the soul. When God led the eastern magi to Christ, he led them by a star. He at- tacked them, so to speak, through the avenue of their profession. Their great employment was that of observing the heavenly bodies. And God sanctified their astronomy. He might have taught them by other methods which seem to us more direct. But it pleased Him to put honor on their occupation, and to write his lessons in that glittering alpha- bet with which their studies had made them especially conversant. We be- lieve, in like manner, that if men went to their daily employments with some- thing of the temper which they bring to the oi-dinances of grace, expecting to receive messages from God throu2:h trade, and through labor, as well as through preaching and a communion, there would be a vast advancing towards spiritual excellence ; and men's experi- ence would be, that the Almighty can bring them into acquaintance with him- s-elf, by the ploughshare, and the bal- ances, and the cargo, no less than by the homily, and the closet exercises, and the public devotions. There would be an anticipation of the glorious season, sketched out by prophecy, when " there shall be upon the bells of the horses, holiness unto the Lord, and the pots in the Loi'd's house shall be like the bowls before the altar." Zechariah, 14 : 20. We give this as our belief; and we 13 98 ST. PAUL A TENT-MAKER. advance as our reason, the fact that la- bor is the ordinance of God. AVe will not have industry set against piety ; as though the little time which men can snatch from secular engagements were the only time which they can give to their Maker. They may give all to God, and, nevertheless, be compelled to rise early, and late take rest, in order to earn a scanty subsistence. And we think, that, in placing an apostle under the necessity of laboring for bread, G od assigned precisely that character to in- dustry for which we contend. We leai-n, from the exhibition of our text, that there is no inconsistency between the being a devoted servant of Christ, and the following assiduously a toilsome occupation. Nay, we learn that it may be, literally, as the servant of Christ that man follows the occupation ; for it •was, as we have shown you, with deci- ded reference to the interests of religion, that St. Paul joined Aquila and Priscil- la in tent-making. At the least, there is a registered demonstration in the case of this apostle, that unwearied industry — for he elsewhere declares that he la- bored day and night — may consist with pre-eminent piety ; and that, so far from the pressure of secular employment be- ing a valid excuse for slow progi'ess in godliness, a man may have to struggle against absolute pauperism, and yet grow, every moment, a more admirable christian. Oh, there is something in this representation of the honor put by God upon industry, which should tell power- fully on the feelings of those to whom life is one loner striving for the means of subsistence. It were as nothing to tell men, you may be good christians in spite of your engrossing employments. The noble truth is, that these employ- ments may be so many helpers on of re- ligion ; and that, in place of serving as leaden weights, which retard a disciple in his celestial career, they may be as the well-plumed wings, accelerating glo- riously the onward progress. In labor- ing to support himself, St. Paul labored to advance Christ's cause. And though thei-e be not always the same well de- fined connection between our toils for a livelihood and the interests of religion, yet, let a connection be practically sought after, and it will always be practically found. The case exists not in which, after making it obligatory on a man that he work for his bread, God has not ar- ranged, that, in thus working, he may work also for the well-being of his soul. If ever, therefore, we met with an in- dividual who pleaded that there were already so many calls upon his time that he could not find leisure to give heed to religion, we should not immediately bear down upon him with the charge — though it might be a just one — of an undue pursuit of the things of this earth. We should only require of him to show that his employments were scripturally lawful, both in nature and intenseness. We should then meet him at once, on the ground of this lawfulness. We should tell him that emplo}Tnents were designed to partake of the nature of sacraments ; that, in place of their being excuses for his not serving God, they were appointed as instruments by which he might serve Him ; and that, consequently, it was only because he had practically dissolved a partnership which the Almighty had formed, the partnership between industry and piety, that he was driving on, with a reckless speed, to a disastrous and desperate bankruptcy. And if he pretended to doubt that piety and industry have thus been associated by God, Ave would take him with us into the woi-k-chamber of St. Paul ; and there showing him the apostle toiling against want, and yet, in toiling, serving Christ Jesus — subsisting by his artisanship, and yet feeding the zeal of his soul by and through his Ja- bors for the supjiort of his body — we would tell the questioner, that God thus caused a mighty specimen to be given of an instituted connection be- tween secular employment and spirit- ual improvement ; and whilst we send him to the writings of St. Paul that he may learn what it is to be indus- triously religious, we send him to the tent-making of St. Paul that he may learn what it is to be religiously industrious. Now we might insist at greater length, if not pressed by the remainder of our subject, on the honor which God put up- on industry when he left St. Paul to toil for a maintenance. But we leave thia point to be further pondered in your pri- vate meditations. We go on, according to the arrangements of our discourse, to open up the second reason which we ventured to assign for this allowed de« ST. PAUL A TENT-MAKER. 99 pendence of an apostle upon labor for subsistence. We stated as our second reason, tbat God designed hereby to inform us, that where he has appointed means he will not work by miracles. We observe that unto St. Paul had been given a super- human energy, so that, when it was re- quired as a witness to his doctrine, he could remove diseases by a word or a touch, and even restore life to the dead. We have no distinct information whe- ther men, thus supernaturally equipped, could emjjloy the j^ower at every time, and for every purpose. But it seems most consistent with Scripture and rea- son to suppose, that, when specially moved by God, they could always work miracles ; but that, imless thus moved, their strength went from them, and they remained no mightier than their fellows. It does not appear that apostles could have recourse to wonder-workings in every exigence which might arise. At least, it is certain that apostolical men, such as Epaphroditus and Timothy, went through sicknesses, and suffered from weaknesses, without being cured by miracle, and without, as it would seem, being taxed with deficiency of faith, be- cause they shook not oft' the malady, or resisted not its approaches. When St. Paul writes to Timothy in regard to his infirmites, lie bids him use wine as a medicine ; he does not tell him to seek faith to work a miracle. Yet, beyond all doubt, Timothy had received the gifts of the Spirit. And from this, and other instances, we infer that then only could miracles be wrought, when, by a distinct motion of the Holy Ghost, faith was directed to some particular achieve- ment. It did not follow that because St. Peter, by a word, had struck down Ananias, he might, by a word, have im- mediately afterwards raised him up. It was not at his option what direction the miracle-working faith should take. Whensoever a miracle was wrought, it was wrought, vmquestionably, by faith. But the faith, first given by God, requir- ed ever after to be stirred into exercise by God ; so that no conclusion could be more eiToneous, than that faith must have been defective, where miracle was not wrought. Now we advance these remarks, in order to justify our not claiming for St. Paul, what, at first sight, we are disposed to claim, the praise of extraordinary self-denial in gaining his bread by luWor, when he might have gained it by mira- cle. We may not suppose, that because he displayed oftentimes a super-human power, he could necessarily, had he wished it, have used that power in sup- plying his bodily wants. It may seem to us no greater effort, to multiply, as Christ did, a loaf into hundreds, than to command, as St. Paul did, the impotent man at Lysti-a to stand upright on his feet. Yet it were a false conclusion that the apostle might liave done the one as well as the other. The working of miracles presuppos- ed, as we have shown you, not only God's giving the faith, biit also God's permit- ting, or rather God's directing, its exer- cise. AVe build, therefore, no state- ments on the supposition that St. Paul had the power, but used it not, of pro- curing food by miracle. We rather con- clude that he had no alternative what- ever; so that, had he not labored at tent-making, he must have been abso- lutely destitute. It was not indeed be- cause deficient in faith that he wrought not a miracle. He had the faith by which lofty hills might be stirred, pro- vided only — and it is this proviso v/hich men strangely overlook — that he, who had given him the faith, directed him to employ it on up-heaving the earth's mountains. But we are thus brought down to the question, why was St. Paul not permit- ted, or not directed, to use the wondei*- working eneigy, in place of being ne- cessitated to apply himself to manual occupation ] We give as our reply, that God might hereby have designed to communicate the impoitant truth, that, where he has aj)pointed means, we are not to look for miracles. Labor waa his own ordinance. So long, therefore, as labor could be available to the pro- curing subsistence, he would not super- sede this ordinance by miraculous inter- ference. There is, perhaps, no feature more strongly charactered on God's dealings, whether in natural things or in spiritual, than that it is in the use of means, and in this alone, that blessings may be expected. We see clearly that this is God's procedure in reference to the affairs of our present state of being. If the husbandman neglect the process- es of agriculture, there comes no mira- ioo ST. PAUL A TENT-MAKER. cle to make up this omission of means ; but harvest-time finds barrenness reign- ing over the estate. If the merchtmt- man sit with his hands folded, when he ought to be busied with shipping his mer- chandise, there is nothing to be expected but that beggary will ensue upon idle- ness. And we hold that instances such as these, so familiar that they are often overlooked, must be taken as illustra- tions of a great principle whose work- ings permeate all God's dispensations. We would contend that there is to be traced in our spiritual affairs that very honoring of means which is thus observ- able in our temporal. We know noth- ing of the fitness, which some men are disposed to uphold, of waiting the effec- tual calling of the Holy Ghost, and so of making no effort, till iiTesistibly mov- ed, to escape from the bondage of cor- ruption. We know of no scriptural me- thod of addressing transgressors but as free agents ; and we abjure, as unsanc- tioned by the Bible, every scheme of the- ology which would make men nothing more than machines. It must lie at the foundation of all religion, whether nat- ural or revealed, that men are responsi- ble beings ; and responsible they cannot be, if placed under an invincible moral constraint, which allows no freedom whatsoever of choice. And we think it a thing to be sorely lamented, that there goes on a battling about election and non-election ; the combatants on each side failing to perceive, that they fight for the ])rofile, and not the full face of truth. It seems to us as plain from the Bible as language can make it, that God hath elected a remnant to life. It is just as plain, that all men are addressed as capable of repenting, and at liberty to choose for themselves between life and death. Thus we have scriptural warranty of God's election ; and we have also scriptural warranty of man's free agency. But how can these apparently opposite statements be reconciled ] I know not. The Bible tells me not. But because I cannot be wise beyond what is written, Crod forbid that I should re- fuse to be wise up to what is written. Scri})ture reveals, but it does not recon- cile, the two. AVhat then ? I receive both, and I preach both ; God's election and man's free agency. But I should es- teem it of all presumptions the boldest to attempt explanation of the co-existence. In like manner, the Bible tells me ex- plicitly that Christ was God; and it tella me, as explicitly, that Chiist was man It does not go on to state the modus or manner of the union. I stop, therefore where the Bible stops. I bow before a God-man as my Mediator, but I own as inscrutable the mysteries of his person. It is thus also Avith the doctrine of the Trinity. Three persons are set before me as equally divine. At the same time, I am taught that thei'e is only one God. How can the three be one, and the one be three ] Silent as the grave is the Bible on this wonder. But I do not re- ject its speech because of its silence. I believe in three divine persons, because told of a Trinity ; I believe in one only God, because told of an Unity : but 1 leave to the developments of a noble sphere of existence the clearing up the marvel of a Trinity in Unity. The admission, then, of the co-exis- tence of election and free-agency is but the counterpart of many other admis- sions Avhicli are made, on all hands, by the believers in revelation. And having assured ourselves of this joint existence, we see at once that man's business is to set about the work of his salvation, with all the ardor, and all the pains-taking, of one convinced that he cannot perish, except through his own fault. We ad- dress him as an immortal creature whose destinies are in his own keeping. We will hear nothing of a secret decree of God, insuring him a safe passage to a haven of rest, or leaving him to go down a wreck in the whirlpool. But we tell him of a command of God, summoning him to put forth all his strength, and all his seamanship, ere the bi-eakere dash against him, and the rocks rise around him. We thus deal with man as a I'e- sponsible being. You are waiting for a miracle ; have you tried the means ] You are trusting to a hidden purpose ; have you submitted yourselves to a re- vealed command 1 Sitting still is no pi'oof of election. Grappling with evil is a proof; and wrenching one's-self from hurtful associations is a proof; and studying CJod's word is a proof; and nraying for assistance is a proof He who resolves to do notliing until he is called — oh, the likelihood is beyond cal- culation, that he will have no call, till the sheeted dead are starting at the trumpet-call. And the vessel — freight- ST. PAUL A TENT-MAKER. 101 ed as she was with noble capncitics, with intelligence, and reason, and t'onjtlioujrht, and the deep throbbintrs of immortality — what account shall be given of her making no way towards the shores of the saint's home, but remaining to be broken up piecemeal by the sweepings of the judgment'? Simply, that God told man of a compass, and of a chart, and of a. wind and a pilot. But man de- termined to remain anchored, until God should come and tear the ship from her moorings. God has appointed means. If we will use them diligently, and pray- erfully, we may look for a blessing. But if we despise and neglect them, we must not look for a miracle. And if a man be resolved to give har- borage to the idea that means may be dispensed with, and that then miracles will be wrought, we open before him the scenery of our text, and bid him be- hold the artificers at their labor. We tell him, that around one of these work- men the priests of Jupiter had thronged, bearing garlands, and bringing sacrifi- ces, because of a displayed mastery over inveterate disease. We tell him, that, if there arose an occasion demanding the exhibition of prodigy in support of Christ's Gospel, this toiling artisan could throw aside the implements of trade, and, rushing into the crowded arena, confound an army of opponents by sus- pending the known laws of nature. And, nevertheless, this mightily-gifted individual must literally starve, or drudge for a meal like the meanest mechanic. And why so 1 why, but because it is a standing appointment of God, that mir- acles shall not supersede means ] If there were no means, Paul should have his bread by miracle. But whilst there is the canvass, and the cord, and the sight in the eye, and the strength in the limb, he may carry on the trade of a tent-maker. He has the tools of his craft : let him use them industriously, and not sit inactive, hoping to be sup- ported miraculously. And, arguing from this as a thorough specimen of God's ordinary dealings, we tell the expectant of an effectual call, that he waits as an idler whilst God requires him to work as a laborer. Where are the tools 1 Why left on the ground, when they should be in the hand 1 Where are the means 1 Why passed over, when they ought to be emjjloyed ] Why neglect- ed, when they should be honored ? Why treated as worthless, when (Jod declares them efficacious 1 It is true tliat con- version is a miracle. But God's com- mon method of working this miracle is through the machinery of means. It is true that none but the elect can be sav- ed. But the only way to ascertain elec- tion is to be laborious in striving. I read St. Paul's Epistle to the Romans ; and I find the apostle saying, " so then it is not of him that willeth, nor of him that runneth, but of God that slioweth mercy." Rom. 9 : 16. What then ] Must I, on this account, run not, but sit still, expecting the approaches of mercy 1 Away with the thought. Means are God's high road to miracles. I turn from the apostle writing to the Romans to the apostle toiling at Corinth. And when I look on the labors of the tent- maker, and infer from them that mira- cles must not be expected where means have been instituted, and that, conse- quently, whensoever God has appointed means, miracle is to be looked for only in their use ; oh, in place of loitering because I have read of election, I would gird up the loins as liaving gazed on the tent-making ; . and in place of running' not, because it is " of God that showeth mercy," run might and main, because it is to those who are running that he shows it. When God decrees an end, he decrees also the means. If then he have elected me to obtain salvation in the next life, he has elected me to the practice of ho- liness in this life. Would I ascertain my election to the blessedness of eter- nity i it must be by practically demon- strating my election to newness of life. It is not by the rapture of feeling, and by the luxuriance of thought, and by the warmth of those desires which descrip- tions of heaven may stir up within me, that I can prove myself predestined to a glorious inheritance. If I would find out what is hidden, I must follow what is revealed. The way to heaven is dis- closed; am I walking in that way? It would be poor proof that I were on my voyage to India, that, with glowing elo- quence and thrilling poetry, I could dis- course on the palm-groves and the spice- isles of the East. Am I on" the waters 1 Is the sail hoisted to the wind ; and does the land of my birth look blue and faint in the distance ? The doctrine of elec- 102 ST. PAUL A TENT-MAKEU. tion may have done harm to many — but only because they have fancied them- selves elected to the end, and have for- gotten that those whom Scripture calls elected are elected to the means. The Bible never speaks of men as elected to be saved from the shipwreck ; but only as elected to tighten the ropes, and hoist the sails, and stand to the i-udder. Let a man search faithfully ; let him see that when Sci-ipture describes christians as elected, it is, as elected to faith, as elected to sanctification, as elected to obedience ; and the doctrine of election will be nothing but a stimulus to effort. It cannot act as a soporific. It cannot lull mc into security. It cannot engen- der licentiousness. It will throw ardor into the spirit, and fii-e into the eye, and vigor into the limb. I shall cut away the boat, and let drive all human devi- ces, and gird myself, amid the fierce- ness of the tempest, to steer the shat- tered vessel into port. Now having thus examined the rea- sons why St. Paul was left dependent upon labor for subsistence, we hasten at once to wind up our subject. We have had under review two great and interesting truths. We have seen that labor is God's ordinance. Be it yours, therefoi-e, to sti-ive earnestly that your worldly callings may be sanctified, so that trade may be the helpmate of reli- gion, instead of its foe and assassin. We have seen, also, that, when God has instituted means, we can have no right to be looking for miracles. Will ye then sit still, expecting God to compel you to move ] Will ye expose youi-selvcs wan- tonly to temptation, expecting God to make you impregnable 1 Will ye take the viper to your bosoms, expecting God to charm away the sting ] Will ye tamper with the poison-cup, expect- ing God to neutralize the hemlock] Then why did not St. Paul, in place of working the canvass into a tent, expect God to convert it into food? We do not idolize means. We do not substi- tute the means of grace for grace itself. But this we say — and we beseech you to cany with you the truth to your homes — when God has made a channel, he may be expected to send through that channel the flowings of his mercy. Oh ! that ye were anxious ; that ye would take your right place in creation, and feel yourselves immortal ! Be men, and ye make a vast advance towards being christians. Many of you have long re- fused to labor to be saved. The imple- ments are in your hands, but you will not work at the tent-making. Ye will not pray ; ye will not shun temptation ; ye will not renounce known sin ; ye will not fight against evil habits. Are ye stronger than God 1 Can ye contend with the Eternal One 1 Have ye the nerve which shall not tremble, and the flesh which shall not cpiiver, and th^ soul which shall not quail, when the sheet of fire is round the globe, and thousand times ten thoiisand angels line the sky, and call to judgment 1 If we had a spell by which to bind the minis- ters of vengeance, we might go on in idleness. If we had a charm by which to take what is scorching from the flame, and what is gnawing from the worm, we might continue the careless. But if we can feel ; if we are not pain-proof; if we are not wrath-proof; let us arise, aud be doing, and, Avith fear and ti-embling, work out salvation. There shall yet burst on this creation a day of fire and of storm, and of blood — oh ! conform yourselves to the simple prescriptions of the Bible ; seek the aids of God's Spirit l)y prayer, and ye shall be led to lay hold on Christ Jesus by faith. SERMON X. THE ADVANTAGES OF A STATE OF EXPECTATION. • It is good tliat a man shouia both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord." — Lamentations iii. SJ8 You will find it said in the Book of Ecclesiastes, " Because to every pur- pose there is time and judgment, there- fore the misery of man is gi-eat upon him." Ecc. 8:6. It seems to us implied in these words, that our incapacity of looking into the future has much to do with the production of disquietude and unhappiness. And there is no question, that the darkness in which we are com- pelled to pi'oceed, and the uncertainty which hangs round the issues of our best-arranged schemes, contribute much to the troubles and perplexities of life. Under the present dispensation we must calculate on probabilities ; and our calcu- lations,when made with the best care and forethought, are often proved faulty by the result. And if we could substitute certainty for probability, and thus de- fine, with a thorough accuracy, the work- ings of any proposed plan, it is evident that we might be saved a vast amount both of anxiety and disappointment. Much of our anxiety is now derived from the doubtfulness of the success of Bchemes, and from the likelihood of ob- struction and mischance : much of our disappointment from the overthrow and failure of long-cherished purposes. And, of course, if we possessed the same mastery of the future as of the past, we should enter upon nothing which was sure to turn out ill ; but, regulating our- selves in every undertaking by fore- known results, avoid much of previous debate and of after regret. Yet when we have admitted, that want of acquaintance with the future gives rise to much both of anxiety and of dis- appointment, we are prepared to argue. that the possession of this acquaintance would be incalculably more detrimental. It is quite true that there are forms and portions of trouble which might be ward- ed off or escaped, if we could behold what is coming, and take measures ac- cordingly. But it is to the ftiU as true, that the main of what shall befall us is matter of irrevocable appointment, to be averted by no prudence, and dispersed by no bravery. And if we could know beforehand whatever is to happen, we should, in all probability, be unmanned and enervated ; so that an arrest would be put on the businesses of life by pre- vious acquaintance with their several successes. The parent, who is pouring his attention on the education of a child, or laboring to procure for him advance- ment and independence, would be un- able to go forward with his efforts, if certified that he must follow that child to the grave so soon as he had fitted him for society and occupation. And even if the map were a bright one, so that we looked on sunny things as fixed for our portion, familiarity with the prospect would deteriorate it to our imagination ; and blessings would seem to us of less and less worth, as they came on us more and more as matters of course. In real truth, it is our ignorance of what shall happen which stimulates exertion : we are so constituted that to deprive us of hope would be to make us inactive and wretched. And, therefore, do we hold that one great proof of God's loving- kindness towards us, may be fetched from that impenetrable concealment in which he wraps up to-moiTow. We lonn; indeed to brinj? to-morrow into to- 104 THE ADVANTAGES OF A STATE OF EXPECTATION. day, and strain the eye in the fruitless endeavor to scan its occurrences. But it is, in a great degree, my ignorance of to-morrow Avhich makes me vigilant, and energetic, and pains-taking, to-day. And if I could see to-day that a great calamity or a great success would un- doubtedly befall me to-morrow, the like- lihood is that I should be so overcome, either by sorrow or by delight, as to be unfitted for those duties with which the present hour is charged. Now it were easy to employ ourselves in examining, more in detail, the bear- ings on our temporal well-being of that hiding of the future to which we have adveited. Neither would such exami- nation be out of place in a discourse on the words of our text. The prophet refers chiefly to temporal deliverance when mentioning " the salvation of the Lord." Judah had gone into captiv- ity : and Jerusalem, heretofore a queen amongst the cities, sat widowed and des- olate. Yet Jeremiah was persuaded that the Lord would " not cast off for ever;" Lam. 3 : 31; and he, therefore, encouraged the remnant of his country- men to expect a better and brighter sea- son. He does not, indeed, predict imme- diate restoration. But then he asserts that delayed mercy would be more ad- vantageous than instant, and that profit might be derived from expectation as well as from possession. If we para- phrase his words, we may consider him saying to the stricken and disconsolate Jews, you wish an immediate interfer- ence of God on behalf of your city and nation. You desire, that, without a mo- ment's delay, the captive tribes should march back from Babylon, and Jerusa- lem rise again in her beauty and her strength. But if this wish were com- plied with, it would be at the expense of much of the benefit derivable from af- fliction : for " it is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord." Thus the original design of the passage vrould warrant our taking a large sweep in its explanation, and leading you over that range of in(juiry which is opened by our introductory remarks. We might dilate on the advantageousness of the existing arrangcrnent, and its wondrous adaptation to our moral constitution. We might show you, by references to the engagements and intercourses of life, that it is for our profit tha we be uncer- tain as to issues, and, tlierefore, required both to hope and to wait. We doubt whether you could imagine a finer dis- cipline for the hmnan mind, than results from the fixed impossibility of our grasp- ing two moments at once. The chief opponent to that feeling of independence which man naturally cherishes, but al- ways to his own huxt, is his utter igno- rance of the events of the next minute. For who can boast, or who can feel himself, independent, whilst unable to insure another beat of the pulse, or to decide whether, before he can count two, he shall be spoiled of life or reduced to beggary? It is only in proportion as men close their eyes to their absolute want of mastership over the future, that they encourage themselves in the delu- sion of independence. If they owned, and felt themselves, the possessors of a single moment, with no more power to secui'e the following,than if the proposed period were a thousand centuries, we might set it down as an unavoidable consequence, that they would shun the presumption of so acting for themselves as though God were excluded from su- pei'intending their affairs. And if there were introduced an opposite arrange- ment ; if men were no longer placed under a system compelling them to hope and to wait ; you may all see that the acquired power over the future would produce, in many quarters, an infidel contemi^t, or denial, of Providence : so that, by admitting men to a closer in- spection of his workings, God would throw them further off fiom acquaintance with himself and reverence of his majes- ties. Thus the goodness of the existing arrangement is matter of easy demon- stration, when that arrangement is con- sidered as including the affairs of every- day life. If you look at the consum- mation as ordinarily far removed from the formation of a purpose, there is, we again say, a fine moral discijjline in the intervening suspense. That men may withstand, or overlook, the discipline, and so miss its advantages, tells nothing against either its existepce, or its ex- cellence. And the necessity which is laid on the husbandman, that, after sow- ing the seed, he wait long for the harvest- time, in hope, but not certainty ; and upon the merchantman, that, after dis- patching his ships, he wait long for the THE ADVANTAGES OF A STATE OP EXPECTATION 105 products of commerce, hoping, but far enough from sure, that the voyage and the traffic will be prosperous ; tliis ne- cessity, we say, for hoping and waiting- reads the best of all lessons as to actual dependence on an invisible being ; and thus verifies our position, that, whatever the desired advantage, " it is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for " its possession. Ay, and we are well convinced that there cannot be found a nobler argument for the exist- ence of a stanch moral goverment over the creatures of our race, than results from this imposed necessity that there elapse a period, and that too a period full of uncertainties,betwecn the forming and completing a design. Amid all the mu- tiny and uproar of our present torn and disorganized condition, there is a voice, in our utter powerlessness to make sure of the future, which continually recalls man from his rebellion and scepticism; and which, proclaiining, in accents not to be overborne by the fiercest tempest of passion, that he holds every thing at the will of another, shall demand irresistibly his condemnation at any oncoming ti'ial, if he carry it wath a higli and independent hand against the being thus proved the uncontrolled lord of his destinies. But we feel it necessary to bring our inquiry within narrower limits, and to take the expression, " the salvation of the Lord," in that moj-e restrained sense which it bears ordinarily in Scripture. We shall employ, therefoie, the remain- der of our time in endeavoring to prove to you, by the simplest reasoning, that it is for our advantage as christians that salvation, in place of being a thing of certainty and present possession, must be hoped and quietly waited for by believers. Now whilst it is the business of a christian minister to guard you against presumption, and an uncalculating con- fidence that you are safe for eternity, it is also his duty to rouse you to a sense of your ])rivileges, and to press on you the importance of ascertaining your title to immortality. We think it not necessari- ly a proof of christian humility, that you should be always in doubt of your spir- itual state, and so live uncertain wheth- er, in the event of death, you would pass into glory. We are bound to declare that Scripture makes the mai-ks of true Teligion clear and decisive ; and that, if we will but apply, faithfully and fearless- ly, the several criteria furnished by its statements, it camiot reman a problem, which the last judgment only can solve, whether it be the l)road way, or the nar- row, in which we now walk. But, nev- ertheless, the best assurance to which a christian can attain must leave salvation j a thing chiefly of hope. Wc find it ex- pressly declared by St. Paul to the Ro- mans, " wc are saved by hope." Rom. 8 : 2 i. And they who are most persuaded, and that too by scriptural warrant, that they are in a state of salvation, can never declare themselves, except in the most limited sense, in its fruition or enjoy- ment ; but must always live mainly upon hope, though with occasional foretastes of coming delights. They can i-each the conclusion — and a comforting and noble conclusion it is — that they are justified beings, as having been enabled to act faith on a Mediator. But whilst justi- fication insui-es them salvation, it puts them not into its present possession. It is thus again that St. Paul distinguishes between justification and salvation, say- ing of Christ, " being now justified by his blood, we shall be saved from wrath through him." Rom. 5:9. So that the knowing ourselves justified is the high- est thing attainable on earth; salva- tion itself, though certain to be reached, remaining an object for which we must hope, and for which we must wait. Now it is the goodness of this arrange- ment which is asserted in our text. We can readily suppose an opposite ai-range- ment. We can imagine that, as soon as a man were justified, he might be trans- lated to blessedness, and that thus the gaining the title, and the entering on pos- ssession, might be always contemporary. Since the being justified is the being ac- cepted in God's sight, and counted per- fectly righteous, there would seem no in- surmountable reason why the justified man should be lefl, a single moment, a wanderer in the desert ; or why the in- stant of the exertion of saving faith, inas- much as that exertion makes sure the sal- vation, should not also be the instant of entrance into glory. To question the possibility of such an arrangement, would be to question the possibility of an outputting of faith at the last moment of life ; for, unless what is called death- bed repentance be distinctly an impossi- ble thing, the case is clearly supposable 14 106 THE ADVANTAGES OF A STATE OF EXPECTATION. of the justifying act being immediately followed by admission into heaven. But the possibility of the aiTangcment, and its goodness, arc quite diflerent questions ; and whilst we see that it might have been ordered, that the justi- fied man should at once be translated, we can still believe it good that he " both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord." Our text speaks chiefly of the goodness to the individual himself; but it will be lawful first to consider the arrangement as fraught with advantage to human society. We nmst all perceive, that, if true believers were withdra^vn from earth at the instant of their becoming such, the influences of piety, which now make themselves felt thi-ough the mass of a population, would be altogether de- stroyed, and the world be dcpi'ived of that salt which alone preserves it from total decomposition. We believe that when Christ declared of his followei'S, " ye are the salt of the earth," Matthew, e5 : 13, he delivered a saying which de- scribed, with singular fidelity, the power of righteousness to stay and correct the disorganizations of mankind. As ap- plied to the apostles the definition was especially accurate. There lay before them a world distinguished by nothing BO much as by corruption of doctrine and manners. Though philosophy was at its height ; though reason had achiev- ed her proudest triumphs; though arts were in their maturity; though elo- quence was then most finished, and poetry most harmonious ; there reigned over the whole face of the globe a tre- mendous ignorance of God; and if hu- manity were not actually an unsound and putrid mass, it had in it every ele- ment of decay, so that, if longer aban- doned to itself, it must have fallen into incurable disease, and become covered with the livid spots of total dissolution. And when, l)y divine commission, the disciples penetrated the recesses of this mass, can-ying with them principles, and truths, exactly calculated to stay the moral ruin which was spreading with fearful rapidity — when they went forth, the bearers of celestial communi- cations which taught the soul to feel herself immortal, and therefore inde- structible ; which lifted even the body but of the grasp of decay, teaching that oonc, and sinew, and flesh should be made at last gloriously incoiTuptible— when, we say, the disciples thus apjjlied to the world a remedy, perfect in every respect, against those tendencies to cor- ruption which threatened to turn our globe into the lazar-house of creation ; were they not to be regarded as the jiu- rifiers and presenters of men, and could any title be more just than one which defined them, in their strivings to over- spread a diseased world with hcalth- fulness, as literally " the salt of the earth?" But it holds good in every age that true believers are " the salt of the earth." Whilst the contempt and ha- tred of the wicked follow incessantly the professors of godliness, and the enemies of Christ, if ability were com- mensurate with malice, would sweep from the globe all knowledge of the Gospel, we can venture to assert that the unrighteous owe the righteous a debt of obligation not to be reckoned, up ; and that it is mainly because the required ten are still found in the cities of the plain that the fire-showers are suspended, and time given for the warding off by repentance the doom. And over and above this conservative virtue of godliness, it is undeniable that the presence of a pious man in a neighborhood will tell gi'eatly on its character; and that, in variety of in- stances, his withdrawment would be followed by wilder outbreakings of pro- fligacy. It must have fallen, we think, within the power of many of you to observe, how a dissolute parish has im- dergone a sjiecics of moral renovation, through the introduction within its cir- cles of a God-fearing individual. He may be despised ; he may be scorned ; he may be railed at. The old may call him methodist, and the young make him their laughing-stock. But, never- theless, if he live consistently, if he give the adversary no occasion to blas- pheme, he will often, by his very ex- ample, go a long way towards stopping the contagion of vice ; he will act, that is, as the salt : and if he succeed not — for this is beyond the power of the salt — in restoring to a wholesome texture what is fatally tainted, he will be instru- mental to the i)rcserving much which would otherwise have soon yielded to the destructive malaria. It is not mere- ly that his temjioral circumstances may THE ADVANTAGES OF A STATE OP EXPECTATION. 107 have given him ascendancy over his fellows. There is in the human mind — we dare not say, a bias towards virtue, but — an abiding, and scarcely to be over- borne consciousness, that such ought to be the bias, and that, whensoever the practical leaning is to vice, there is irre- sistible evidence of moral derangement. Whatever the extent of human degener- ^•cy, you will not find that right and wrong have so changed places, that, in being the slaves of vice, men reckon themselves the subjects of virtue. There is a gnawing restlessness in those who have most abandoned themselves to the power of evil ; and much of the fiei'ce- ness of their profligacy is ascribable to a felt necessity of keeping down, and B'^ifling, reproachful convictions. And hence it comes to pass that vice will ordinarily feel rebuked and overawed by virtue, and that the men, whom you would think dead to all noble principle, will be disturbed by the presence of an apright and God-fearing character. The voice of righteousness will find some- thing of an echo amid the disorder and confusion of the worst moral chaos ; and the strings of conscience are scarcely ever so dislocated and torn as not to yield even a whisper, when swept by the hand of a high virtued monitor. So that the godly in a neighborhood wield an influence which is purely that of god- liness ; and when denied opportunities of direct interference, check by exam- ple, and reprove by conduct. You could not then measure to us the consequen- ces ot the withdrawment of the salt from the mass of a population ; nor cal- culate the lapidity with which, on the complete removal of God-fearing men, an overwhennuig corruption would per- vade all society. But this is exactly what must occur, if a system, opposite to the present, were introduced, so that salvation were not a thing to be hoped and waited rm. If as soon as a man were iustifled, t>^<'oogh being enabled to act faitli upon Lll'nst, he were trans- lated to the repobo and blessedness of heaven, he could exert nothing of that influence, and work nothing of that benefit, which we have now traced and exhibited. And, therefore, in propor- tion as the influence is important and the benefit considerable, we must be wan-anted in maintaining it " good that, a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord." It is, however, the goodness of the arrangement to the individual himself which seems chiefly contemplated by the prophet, and upon this, therefore, we shall employ the remainder of our discourse. Now, under this point of view, our text is simpler at first sight than when rigidly examined. We can see, at once, that there is a spiritual discipline in the hoj^ing and waiting, which can scarcely fail to improve greatly the character of the christian. But, nevertheless, would it not, on the whole, be vastly for his personal ad- vantage, that he should leave speedily this theatre of conflict and trouble, and be admitted, without a wearisome de- lay, into the mansion which Christ has prepared for his residence ] We have already shown you that there can exist no actual necessity, that he who is jus- tified should not be immediately glo- rified. We are bound to believe that a justified man — and, beyond all question, a man is justified in this life — is con- signed to blessedness by an irreversible appointment, and that, consequently, whensoever he dies, it is certain that he enters into heaven. The moment he is justified, heaven becomes un- doubtedly his portion ; and if, therefore, he die at the instant of justification, he will as surely obtain immortality, as if many years elapse between the out- putting of faith and the departure from life. And how then can it be good for him, certified as he thus is of hea- ven, to continue the war with sin and corruption, and to cut painfully his way through hosts of opponents, in place of passing instantaneously into the joy of his Lord? If you could prove it in every case indispensable that a justified man should undergo discipline in order to his acquiring meetness for heaven, there would be no room for de- bate as to the goodness asserted in our text. But you cannot prove the disci- pline indispensable, because we know the possibility that a man may be justi- fied at the last moment of life ; so that, no time ha"ving been allowed for prepa- ration, he may spring from a death-bed to a throne. And thus the question comes back upon us in its unbroken force, wherein lies the goodness of hoping and waitinc: for salvation 1 lOS TUE ADVANTAGES OF A STATE OF EXPECTATION. Wc take the case, for example, of a man wlio, at the age of thirty, is ena- bled, through the operations of grace, to look in faith to the Mediator. By this looking in faith the man is justified : a justified man cannot perish : and if, therefore, the individual died at thirty, he would " sleep in Jesus." But, after being justified, the man is left tliirty years upon earth — years of care, and toil, and striving with sin — and during these years he hopes and waits for sal- vation. At length he obtains salvation ; and thus, at the close of thirty years, takes possession of an inheritance to which his title was clear at the beginning. Now wherein can lie the advantageous- iiess of this arrangement ] Thirty years, which might have been spent in the en- joying, are spent in the hoping and waiting for salvation : and unless the re- ality shall fall short of the expectation, how can it be true that " it is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord 1 " We think that no fair ex^^lanation can be given of our text, unless you bring iftto the account the difference in the portions to be assigned hereafter to the righteous. If you supposed uniformity in the glory and happiness of the future, we should be at a loss to discover the goodness of the existing arrangement. If, after the thirty years of warfare and toil, the man receive precisely what ho might have received at the outset of these years, is he benefited, nay, is he not injured by the delay 1 If the delay afford the means of increasing the bless- edness, there is a clear advantageous- ness in that delay. But if the blessed- ness be of a fixed quantity, so that at the instant of justification a man's por- tion is unalterably determined, to assert it good that he sliould hope and wait, is to assert that thirty years of expecta- tion are more delightful than thirty years of possession. We bring before you, therefore, as a comment on our text, words such as these of the apostle, " our light afflic- tion, which is but for a moment, work- eth for us a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory." 2 Cor. 4 : 17. We consider that when you set the pas- sages in juxta-position, the working- power, ascribed by one to affliction, gives satisfactory account of the goodness at- tributed by the otlicr to the hoping and waiting. It is unquestionably good that a man should hope and wait, provith.-d the delay make it possible that he heighten the amount of finally-received blessedness. And if the affliction, for exam]ile, which is undergone during the period of delay, work out " a far more exceeding and eternal weight of glory," it follows necessarily that delay makes possible the heightening future glory; and therefore it follows, just as necessa- rily, that it is " good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the sal- vation of the Lord." We consider it easy, by thus bringing into the account an undoubted doctrine of Scripture — the doctrine that the fu- ture allotments of the righteous shall be accurately proportioned to their present attainments — to explain the goodness of an arrangement which defers, through many years, full deliverance from trial. Wc are here, in every sense, on a stage of probation ; so that, having once been brought back from the alienations of nature, we are candidates for a prize, and wrestlers for a diadem. It is not the mere entrance into the kingdom for which we contend : the first instant in which we act faith on Christ as our pro- pitiation, sees this enti'ance secured to us as justified beings. But, when justi- fied, there is opened before us the widest field for a righteous ambition ; and por- tions deepening in majesty, and height- ening in brilliancy, rise on our vision, and animate to unwearied endeavor. We count it one of the glorious things of Christianity, that, in place of repress- ing, it gives full scope to all the ardor of man's spirit. It is common to reckon ambition amongst A'ices : and a vice it is, under its ordinary developments, with which Christianity wages interminable warfare. But, nevertheless, it is a stanch and an adventurous, and an eagle-eyed thing : and it is impossible to gaze on the man of ambition, daunted not by disas- ter, wearied not by repulse, dishearten- ed not by delay, holding on in one un- broken career of eff'ort to reach a covet- ed object, without feeling that he jios- sesses the elements of a noble constitu- tion ; and that, however to be wept over for the prostitution of his energies, for the pouring out this mightiness of soul on the corrupt and the ])orishable, he is equipped with an apparatus of powers which need nothing but the being rightly THE ADVANTAGES OP A STATE OF EXPECTATION. 109 directetl, in order to the forming the very iinest of" characters. And we tliink it nothing better than a libel on Chris- tianity, to declare of the ambitious man, that if he become religious, he must, in every sense, cease to be ambitious. If it have been his ambition to rise high in the dignities of a state, to win to him- self the plaudits of a multitude, to twine his forehead with the wreaths of popu- lar favor, to be foremost amongst the heroes of war or the ])rofessors of sci- ence — the introduced humility of a dis- ciple of Christ, bringing him down from all the heights of carnal ascendancy, will be quite incompatible with this his ambition, so that his discipleship may be tested by its suppression and destruc- tion. But all those elements of charac- ter which went to the making up this ambition — the irrepressible desire of some imagined good, the fixedness of purpose, the sti-enuousness of exertion — these remain, and are not to be anni- hilated ; requiring only the proposition of a holy object, and they will instantly be concentrated into a holy ambition. And Christianity propounds this object. Christianity deals with ambition as a passion to be abhorred and denounced, whilst urging the warrior to carve his way to a throne, or the courtier to press on in the path of preferment. But it does not cast out the elements of the passion. Why should it 1 They are the noblest which enter into the human composition, bearing most vividly the impress of man's original formation. Christianity seizes on these elements. She tells her subjects tlmt the rewards of eternity, though all purchased by Christ, and none merited by man, shall be rigidly proportioned to their works. She tells them that there are places of dignity, and stations of emi- nence, and crowns with more jewelry, and sceptres with more sway, in that glorious empire which shall finally be eet up by the Mediator. And she bids them strive for the loftier recompense. She would not have them contented with the lesser portion, though infinitely out- doing human imagination as well as hu- man desert. And if ambition be the walking with the stanch step, and the single eye, and the untired zeal, and all in pursuit of some longed-for superiori- ty, Christianity saith not to the man of ambition, lay aside thine ambition : Chris- tianity hath need of the stanch step, and the single eye, and the untired zeal : and she, therefore, sets before the man pyramid rising above pyramid in glory, throne above throne, palace above pa- lace ; and she sends him forth into tlie moral arena to wrestle for the loftiest, though unworthy of the lowest. We shall not hesitate to argue that in this, as in other modes which might be indicated, Christianity provides an antag- onist to that listlessness which a feeling of security might be supposed to engen- der. She does not allow the believer to imagine every thing done, when a title to the kingdom has been obtained. She still shows him that the trials of the last great assize shall proceed most accui-ate- ly on the evidence of works. There is no swerving in the Bible from this repre- sentation. And if one man becomes a ruler over ten cities, and another over five, and another over two — each receiv- ing in exact proportion to his improve- ment of talents — it is clear as demonstra- tion can make it, that our strivings will have a vast influence on our recompense, and that, though no iota of blessedness shall be portioned out to the righteous which is not altogether an undeserved gift, the arrangements of the judgment will balance most nicely what is bestowed and what is performed. It shall not be said, that, because secure of admission into heaven, the justified man has no- thing to excite him to toil. He is to wrestle for a place amongst spirits of chiel renown : he is to propose to himself a station close to the throne : he is to fix his eye on a reward sparkling above the rest with the splendors of eternity : and, whilst bowed to the dust under a sense of utter unworthiness to enter the lists in so noble a contest, he is to become com- petitor for the richest and most radiant of prizes. We tell him, then, that it is good that he hope and wait. It is tell- ing him there is yet time, though rapidly diminishino;, for securinij hisrh rank in the kintrdom. It is telling the wrestler, the glass is running out, and there is a gar- land not won. It is telling the warrior the night shades are gathering, and the victory is not yet complete. It is telling the traveller, the sun is declining, and there are higher peaks to be scaled. Is it not good that I hope and wait, when each moment may add a jewel to the crown, a plume to the wing, a city to the sceptre 1 Is it not good, when each second 110 THE ADVANTACrES OP A STATE OF EXPECTATION. of effoi't may lift me a step hiirher in the scale of triumph and majesty I Oh, you look on an individual whose faith in Christ Jesus has been demonstrated by most scriptural evidence, but unto whom life is one long series of trials, and disas- ters, and pains ; and you are disposed to ask, seeing there can rest no doubt on the man's title to salvation, whctlicr it would not be good for him to be freed at once from the burden of the flesh, and thus epaied, it may be, yet many years of anxiety and struggle. You think that he may well take as his own the words of the Psahnist : " Oh that I had wings like a dove, then would I flee away and be at rest." But we meet you with the asser- tion of an instituted coimection between our two states of being. We tell you that the believer, as he breasts the storm, and plunges into the war, and grapples with aflliction, is simply in the condition of one who contends forapi-ize; ay, and that if he were taken off from the scene of combat, just at the instant of challeng- ing the adversary, and thus saved, on your short-sighted calculation, a super- fluous outlay of toil and resistaiice, he would miss noble things, and things of loveliness, in his ever lasting portion, and be brought down from some starry emi- nence in the sovereignties of elernity, •which had he fought through along life- time " the good fight of faith," 1 Tim. 6 : 12, might have been awarded him in the morning of the first resurrection. Now we may suppose that we carry with us your admission of the fairness of the reasoning, that, inasnnich as the continuance of the justified upon earth affords them opportunity of rising high- er in the scale of future blessedness, there is a goodness in the arrangement which is vastly more than a counter- poise to all the evils with which it seems charged. The justified man, translated at the instant of justification, could receive nothing, we may think, but the lower and less splendid por- tions. He would have had no time for glorifying Gf)d in the active duties of a christian profession ; and it would seem impossil»lo, therefiire, that he should win any of those more magnificent al- lotments which shall be given to the foremost of Christ's followers. But the remaining in the flesh after justification, allows of that growth in grace, that progress in holiness, that adcunirig in all things the doctrine of the Savior, to which shall be awarded, at the judgment, chief places in the kingdom of INIcssiah. And if, on the supposition that no period intervene, there can be no augmentations of happiness, whei'eas, on that of hoping and waiting, there may be daily advances in holiness, and therefore daily acces- sions to a never-ending bliss ; who will deny the accuracy of the inference, that " it is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the salvation of the Lord ] " There would seem nothinrr wanting to the completeness of this argument, unless it be proof of what has been all along assumed, namely, that the being compelled to hope and to wait is a good moral discipline ; so that the exercises prescribed are calculated to promote holiness, and, therefore, to insure hap- piness. We have perhaps only shown the advantageousness of delay; whereas the text asserts the advantageousness of certain acts of the soul. Yet this dis- crepancy between the thing proved, and the thing to be proved, is too slight to require a lengthened coiTcction. It is the delay which makes salvation a thing of hope; and that which I am obliged to hope for, I am, of course, obliged to wait for; and thus, whatever of benefi- cial result can be ascribed to the delay may, with equal fitness, be ascribed to the hoping and waiting. Besides, hope and patience — for it is not the mere waiting which is asserted to be good ; it is the quietly waiting ; and this quiet waiting is but another term for ])atience — hope and patience are two of the most admirable of christian graces, and he who cultivates them assiduously cannot well be neglectful of the rest. So that, to say of a man that he is exercising hope and patience, is to say of liim, that, through the assistance of God's Spirit, he is more and more overcoming the ruggedness and oppositions of nature, and more and more improving the soil, that lovely things, and things of good report, may spring up and flourish. In the material world, there is a wonderful provision against the destruction of tlie soil, which has often excited the admi- ration of philosophers. The coat of vegetable mould with which this globe is overspread, and tlic removal of which would be the covering our fields with sterility, consists of loose materials, easily THE ADVANTAGES OF A STATE OF EXPECTATION. Ill waslierl away by the rains, and continu- ally carried down by tho rivers to the sea. And, nevertheless, though there is this rapid and ongoing waste, a waste which seems sufficient, of itself, to de- stroy in a few yeai's the soil, there is no sensible diminution in the layers of mould ; but the soil remains the same, 'jr nearly the same, in quantity ; and must have done so, ever since this earth became the home of animal or vegetable life. And we know, therefore, that there must be causes at work which continu- ally furnish a supply just equal to the waste of the soil. \Ve know that God, wonderful in his forethought and contri- vance, must have arranged a system of mechanical and chemical agencies, througli whose operations the ravages of the flood and storm should be care- fully repaired : and we find accordingly, that, whilst the soil is swept away, there goes on continually, through the action of the elements, a breaking up and pounding even of the hardest rocks, and that thus there is strewed upon the earth's surface by the winds, or brought down in the sediments of mountain tor- rents, a fresh deposit in the room of the displaced and far-scattered covering. Now it is only necessary to allude to such an arrangement in the material world, and you summon forth the admi- ration and applause of contemplative minds. It is a thing so surprising, that the waste and loss, which the most care- less must observe, should be continually and exactly repaired, though by agencies wh(jse workings we can scarcely detect, that the bare mention of the fact elicits, on all sides, a confession, that creative wisdom and might distance immeasura- bly the stanchest of our searchings. But we think that, in the spiritual economy, we have something, analogous indeed, but still more beautiful as an arrange- ment. The winds of passion, and the floods of temptation, pass fiercely over the soil of the heart, displacing often and scattering that mould which has been broken up by the ploughshare of the Gospel. But God's promise is, that lie will not suffer believers " to be tempt- ed above that they are able; " 1 Cor. 10 : 13 ; and thus, though the soil for a while be disturbed, it is not, as in the material system, carried altogether away, but soon re-settles, and is again fit for the husbandman. But this is not all. Every overcome temptation, ministering, as it must do, to faith, and hope, and patience, is virtually an assault on the granite of a corrupt nature, and helps to break in pieces the rock of which there remains much in the breasts of the most pious. He who conquers a temptaticui takes a fresh step towards subduing himself ; in other words, detaches more particles fi-om the stone and the iron. And thus, in most accurate correspondence, as in the natural world so in the spiritual, the tempest and torrent, which displace the soil, provide fresh material for all the purposes of vegetation : but there is this difference between the two : in the natural world, the old soil disappears, and its place is supplied by the new ; in the spiritual, the old, disturbed fin- a while, subsides, and is tlien wonderfully deepened by accessions of new. Hope and patience, exercised by the appointed trials of life, cause an eru-ichment of the soil in which all christian graces flourish ; so that the grain of mustard seed, burst- ing into a tree, finds ample space for its roots, spreading them wide and striking them deep. And if this be no exagge- rated account of the benefits resulting from a sedulous exercise of hope and patience ; if it be true that he who, in the scriptural sense, hopes and quietly waits for salvation, is under that disci- pline which, of all others, ministers to the growth of dispositions acceptable to God ; w^e have omitted, it would seem, no step in the required demonstration, but have collected all the elements of proof, that " it is good that a man should both hope and quietly wait for the sal- vation of the Lord." We would only further remark, though the statement is perhaps involved in the preceding, that the delay is good as af- fording time in which to glorify God. It is a spectacle which should stir all the anxieties and sympatliies of a believer, that of a world which has been ran- somed by blood-shedding, but which, nevertheless, is overspread with impiety and infidelity. The christian is the man of loyalty and uprightness, forced to dwell in the assemblings of traitors. With a heart that beats true to the king of the land, he must tarry amongst those who have thrown off" allegiance. On all sides he must hear the plottings of trea- son, and behold the actings of rebellion. Can he fail to be wrought up to a long- 112 THE ADVANTAGES OP A STATE OF EXPECTATION. ing, and efTort, to arrest, in some degree, the march of anarchy, and to bring be- neath the sceptre of righteousness the revolted and ruined ])oj)ulation 1 Can he be an indifferent and cold-hearted spectator of the despite done to God by every class of society ; and shall there be no throbbing of spirit, and no yearn- ing of soul, over thousands of his race, who, though redeemed by the sacrifice of Christ, are preparing themselves a heritage of fire and shame 1 We do but reason from the most invariable and well known principles of our nature, when wc argue that, as a loyal and loving subject of Christ, the believer must glow with righteous indignation at the bold insults offered to his Lord, and long to bend every faculty and power to the di- minishing the world's wretchedness by overcoming its rebellion. What stronger proof then can you ask of the goodness in question than that, whilst detained fi-oni glory, we may withstand impiety '/ It is yet a little while, and we shall be withdrawn from this scene of rebellion; and no further effort, so far as we oui-- selves are concerned, can be made towards advancing Christ's kingdom. Others may come after us, of warmer loyalty and more resolute zeal, and make better head against the tide of apostacy. But our own opportunities of vindicating Christ's honor, and extending the sway of his sceptre, will have altogether pass- ed away ; and the last glance which our spirits, in departing, cast upon this earth, may show us impiety careering with as dominant a footstep as ever, and send us into God's presence with a throb of self- reproach at the paucity and poverty of our resistances to the might of the evil one. We doubt not, that, whatever the joy and peace of a christian's deathbed, there will be always a feeling of regret that so little has been done, or rather so little attempted, for Christ. And if, whilst his firmament is glowing with the dawnings of eternity, and the melody of angels is just stealing on his ear, and the walls of the bright city arc bounding his horizon, one wish could detain him in the tabernacle of flesh ; oh, it would not be the wish of tarrying with the weep- ing ones who are clustered at his bed- side ; and it would not be that of p70- viding for children, of superintending their education, or of perfecting some plan for their settlement in life — he knows that there is a Husband of the widow and a Father of the fatherless^ and the only wish which could put a check on his spirit, as the plumes of its wing just feel the free air, is that he might toil a little longer for Christ, and do at least some fractions more of his work, ere ushered into the light of his presence. And if the sinking energies were suddenly recruited, so that the pulse of the expiring man beat again vi- gorously ; it might at first seem painful to him to be snatched back from glory ; but remembering, that, whilst vice is enthroned on the high places of the earth, and millions bow down to the stock and the stone, there is a mighty demand for all the strenuousness of the righteous, he would use returning sti-ength in ut- tering the confession, it is good that I yet wait and hope for salvation. Now in winding up this subject of discourse, we have only to remark that religion gives a character to hope of which otherwise it is altogether destitute. You will scarcely find tlie man, in all the ranges of our creation, whose bosom bounds not at the mention of hope. What is hope but the solace and stay of ■ those whom it most cheats and deludes ; whispering of health to the sick man, and of better days to the dejected ; the fairy name on which young imaginations pour forth all the poetry of their souls, and whose syllables float, like anial music, into the ear of frozen and paralyzed old age 1 In the long catalogue of human griefs there is scarce one of so crushing a pressure that ho])e loses its elasticity, becoming unable to soar, and bring down fresh and fair leaves from some far-off domain which itself creates. And yet, whilst hope is the great inciter to exertion, and the great soother of wretchedness, who knows not that it ordinarily deceives mankind, and that, though it crowd the future with glorious resting- j)laces, and thus tempt us to bear up a while against accumulated disasters, its palaces and gardens vanish as we approach ; and we are kept from despair only because the pinnacles and forests of another bright scene fringe the horizon, and the deceiver finds us willing to be yet again deceived 1 Hope is a beautifid meteor : but, never- theless, this meteor, like the rainbow, is not only lovely because of its seven rich and radiant stripes ; it is the memorial of a covenant between man and his Maker, THE ADVANTAGES OP A STATE OP EXPECTATION. Ill telling- US that we are born for immortal- ity ; deHtiiied, unless we s(^pulclire our greatness, to the highest honor and no- blest happiness. Hope proves man deathless. It is the struggle of the soul, breaking loose from what is perishable, and attesting her eternity. And when the eye of the mind is turned upon Christ, " delivered for our oflences and raised again for our justification," Romans, 4 : 25, the unsubstantial and deceitful cha- racter is tak^en away from hope : hope is one of the prime pieces of that armor of proof iu which the believer is arrayed ; for St. Paul bids us take " for an helmet the hope of salvation." 1 Thess. 5 : 8. It is not good that a man hope for wealth, since " riches ])rofit not in the day of wrath ; " Prov. 11:4; and it is not good that he hope for human honors, since the mean and mighty go down to the same burial : but it is good that he hope for salvation ; the meteor then gathers, like a golden halo, round his head, and, as he presses forward in the battle-time, no weapon of the evil one can pierce thj-ough that helmet. It is good, then, that he hope : it is good also that he rjuietly wait. There is much promised in Scripture to the wait- ing upon God. Men wish an immediate answer to prayer, and think themselves forgotten unless the reply be instantan- eous. It is a great mistake. The delay is often part, and the best part, of the answer. It exercises faith, and hope, and patience ; and what better thing can be done tor us than the strensfthening those graces to whose growth shall be proportioned the splendors of our im- mortality ] It is good, then, that ye wait, " They that wait upon the Lord shall re- new their strength ; they shall mount up with wings as eagles ; they shall run, and not be weary ; and they shall walk, and not faint." Isa. 40 : 31. And ye must, according to the phrase of our text, wait for God. " The Lord is a God of judgment ; blessed are all they that wait for him." Isa. 30 : 18. And if the time seem long, and, worn down with affliction and wearied with toil, ye feel impatient for the moment of full emancipation — remember ye — and let the remembrance check every murmur — that God leaves you upon earth in order that, advancing in holiness, you may secure yourselves a higher grade amongst the children of the first resurrection. Strive ye, therefore, to " let patience have her perfect woi-k," James, 1:4. It is "yet a little while, and he that shall come will come." Heb. 10 : 37. Be ye not disheartened ; for " the night is far spent, the day is at hand." Rom, 13 : 12. As yet there has been no day to this creation, since rebellion wove the sackcloth into the over-head canopy. But the day comes onward. There is that edge of gold on the snow-mountains of a long-darkened world, which marks the ascending of the sun in his strength. " Watchman, what of the night 1 Watchman, what of the night? The watchman said, the morn- injj cometh and also the night." Isa. 21 : 11, 12, Strange that morning and night should come hand in hand. But the morning to the righteous, as bringing salvation, shall be the night to the wick- ed, as bringing destruction. On then, still on, lest the morning break, ere ho- ping and waiting have wrought their in- tent. Who will sleep, when, as he slum- bers, bright things glide by, which, if wakeful, he might have added to his por- tion 1 Who will put off'lhe armor, when, by stemming the battle-tide, he may gather, every instant, spoil and trophies for eternity 1 Who will tamper with carnal indulgences, when, for the poor enjoyment of a second, he must barter some ever-during privilege 1 Wrestle, strive, fight, as men who " know that your labor is not in vain in the Lord," 1 Cor, 15 : 58, Ye cannot indeed merit advancement. What is called reward will be the reward of nothing but God's work within you, and, therefore, be a gift most royal and gratuitous. But whilst there is the strongest instituted connection between attainment here and enjoyment hereafter, we need not pause upon terms, but may summon you to holiness by the certainties of happiness. The Judge of mankind cometh, bring- ing with him rewards all wonderfully glorious ; but, nevertheless, " one star differeth from another star in glory." 1 Cor. 15: 41. O God, it were an overwhelming mercy, and a magnificent portion, if we should obtain the least ; but since thou dost invite, yea, command us to " strive for masteries," we will struggle — thy grace being our strength — for the higher and more beautiful. 15 IH TRUTH AS IT IS IN JESUS. SERMON XI TRUTH AS IT IS IN JESUS. " B'll yc hare not so learned Christ ; if so be that ye have heard him, and have been taught by him, as the tratb is in Jesua." — Ephesians, iv. 20, 21. There is a singular verse in the Book of Ecclesiastes which appears directed against a common, though, perhaps, un- suspected error. " Say not thou what is the cause that the former days were better than these ] for thou dost not in- quire wisely concerning this." Eccl. 7 : 10. We believe that there exists a dis- 2>ositioti in persons, and especially in old persons, to set present years in con- trast with the past, and to prove from the comparison, a great and on-going deterioration in the character of man- kind. And it is quite certain, that, if this disposition were observable in So- lomon's days, as well as in our own, it must pass ordinarily as the mark of a jaundiced and ill-judging mind. If it has been true in some ages, it cannot have been in all, that the moral aspect of the times has grown gradually dark- er. We must be warranted, therefore, in ascribing a disposition which has sub- sisted through days of improvement, as well as of declension, to a peevish de- termination to find fault, and not to a sober sitting in judgment upon matters of fact. IJut the workings of the very same disposition may be traced under other and less obvious forms. We believe, for exair.ple, that men are often inclin- ed to compare the religious advantages of the earlier and later days of Chris- tianity, and to uphold the superiority of the past to the present. It is imagined, that to have been numbered amongst the living when Jesus sojourned upon earth, to have been permitted to behold the miracles which he wrought, and to hear ■from his own lips the truths of redemp- tion — it is imagined, we say, that there must have been in this a privilege am- pler in dimensions than any which falls to men of later generations. And from such imagining there will spring often a kind of excusing, whether of infideli- ty, or of lukewarmness : our not believ- ing at all, or our believing only languid- ly, being accounted for on the principle, that the evidence afforded is far less than might have been vouchsafed. Thus, under a specious, but more dan- gerous aspect, we are met again by the question, " What is the cause that the former days were better than these 1 " Now we believe the question to be grounded altogether on mistake. If there be advantage on one side as contrasted with the other, we are persuaded that it lies with the present generation, and not with the pa^st. It is true that the exhi- biti(m of miraculous energies, which was made in the cities of Judea, gave what ought to have been overwhelming attestation to the divinity of the mission of Jesus. If we possessed not the re- cords of history to assure us of the con- trary, we might be disposed to conclude, with much appearance of fainiess, tliat they who beheld diseases scattered, and death mastered, by a word, must have instantly followed Him who wrought out the marvels. Yet we may easily certify ourselves that the Jew was oc- cupied by prejudices which must have more than counterbalanced his peculiar advantages. Ho had befoje him, so to speak, a sketch of his Messiah, whose accuracy he never thought of question- ing; and if a claimant of the Messiah- ship presented not the features which TRUTH AS IT IS IN JESUS. 115 were foremost in this sketch, then, al- most, as a matter of course, his preten- sions were rejected with scorn. It is nothing to say that ancient prophecy, more thoroughly investigated, might have taught the Jew the error of ex- pecting, on the first advent of Messiah, a temporal prince and deliverer. The error was so ingrained into his spirit, that it was easier for him to refer mira- cles to the power of the evil one, than suspect that he harbored a false expect- Cation. So that, when we compare our own circumstances with those of the Jew, it behooves us to remember, that, if we have not his advantages in superna- tural manifestations, neither have we his disadvantages in national preposses- sions. We are not to argue the effect produced upon him, from that which might now be produced upon us, by the working of miracles. In his case every feeling which results from early associ- ation, or from the business of education, was enlisted against Christianity ; where- as it may almost be affirmed, that, in our case, every such feeling is on the side of Christianity. i£, therefore, we allow that the testimony, which we possess to the truth of our religion, wears not outward- ly the same mightiness as that afforded in the days of the Savior, we should still contend that the predisposing circum- stances in our own case far more than compensate the sensible witness in that of the Jew. We may yet further observe, that not only are our disadvantages less, but, on a stricter examination, our advanta- ges will appear greater. We may think there would have been, a vast advantage in seeing Jesus work miracles ; but, af- ter all, we could only have believed that he actually worked them. And if we can once certify ourselves of this fact, we occupy, in the strictest sense, the same position as though we had been spectators of the wonder. It would be altogether childish to maintain, that I may not be just as certain of a thing which I have not seen, as of another which I have seen. Who is in any de- gree less confident, that there was once such a king as Henry the Eighth on the throne of these realms, than that there is now such a king as William the Fourth 1 Or is there one of us who thinks that he would have felt more sure of there havinjr been such a kino: as Henry the Eighth, had he lived in the times of that monarch in place of the present ? We hold then the supposition to be indefensible, that the spectator of a miracle has necessarily an advantage over those who only hear of that mira- cle. Let there be clear and unequivo- cal testimony to the fact of the miracle having been wrought, and the spectator and the hearer stand well nigh on a par. That there should be belief in the fact, is the highest result which can, in either case, be produced. But assuredly this result may as well be effected by the power of authenticated witness, as by the machinery of our senses. And, without question, the testimony to the truth of Christianity is of so growing a character, and each age, as it rolls away, pays in so large a contribution to the evidences of faith, that it were easy to prove, that the men of the present generation gain, rather than lose, by dis- tance from the first erection of the cross. It is saying but little, to affirm that we have as good grounds of persuasion that Jesus came from God, as we should have had, if permitted to behold the mighty workings of his power. We are bold to say that we have even bettei' grounds. The testimony of our senses, however convincing for the moment, is of so fleeting and unsubstantial a charac- ter, that a year or two after we had seen a miracle, we might be brought to ques tion whether there had not been jug- glery in the worker, or credulity in our- selves. If we found a nation up in arms, maintaining that there might have been mao^ic or trickery, but that there had not been supernatural power; we might, perchance, be easily borne down by the outcry, if the remembered witness of our eye-sight were all to which appeal could be made. It is not difficult to begin to suspect ourselves in the wrong, when we find no one willing to allow us in the right. And we therefore main- tain, that living as we do in a day when generation after generation has sat in assize on Christianity, and registered a verdict that it has God for its author, we possess the very largest advantages over those who saw with their own eyes what Jesus did, and heard with their own ears what Jesus said. Now you may not all readily perceive the connection of these remarks with- the passage of Scripture on which we 116 TRUTH AS IT IS IN JESUS. purpose to meditate. Yet the connec- tion is of the strictest. The apostle ad- dresses liimsclf to converts, who, like ourselves, had not been privileged to behold the Savior of maniiind. Christ Jesus had not walked the streets of Ephesus : and if it be supposable that certain of the inhabitants of that idola- trous city had visited Judea during the period of his sojourning on earth, it is incredible that the Epliesian Church, as a body, had enjoyed with Him peisonal communion. Does then St. Paul ad- dress the Ephesians as though disad- vantaged by this circumstance ? Does he rcpiesent them as less favored than their brethren of Jerusalem who had lived within the circles of Christ's min- istrations 1 On the conti-ary, you would judge, from the style of his address, that he wrote this Epistle to Jewish, and not to heathen converts. He speaks to the Ephesians of their having heard Christ, and of their having been taught by Christ. " If so be that ye have heard him, and have been taught by him." And what shall we gather from this, but a rigid confirmation of our fore- going remarks ; a strengthening of the opinion, that those who have not seen may stand in precisely the same posi- tion as those who have ; and that, con- sequently, the absence of what may be called sensible proof, furnishes no ground-work of complaint, that " the former days were better than these ] " We must, indeed, allow that the Ephesians were brought, more nearly than ourselves, into personal contact with Christ, because instructed by teach- ers who had seen the Savior in the flesh. Yet as soon as testimony ceases to be the testimony of senses, and be- comes that of witnesses, there is an identification of the circumstances of men of former times, and of latter. Whether the testimony be transmitted through one, or through many ; whether we receive it from those who themselves saw the Savior, or from those who have taken the facts on the witness of others ; there is the same distinction between sucli testimony, and that resulting from being actual spectators, or actual au- ditors ; and it might, therefore, be said to us, as well as to the Ephesians, ye have heard Christ, and ye have been taught by Christ. But the portion of our text on which we would fix mainly your attention ia the description of truth as made known by revelation. The teaching whereof the Ephesians had been the subjects, and which, therefore, we are bound to consider imparted to ourselves, is ex- pressly stated to be " as the truth is in Jesus." Now this is a singular defini- tion of truth, and well worth your closest attention. We hold it unquestionable, that, long ere Christ came into the world, much of truth, yea, of solid and illustri- ous truth, had been detected by the un- aided searchings of mankind. We should not think that any advantage were gained to the cause of revelation, if we succeeded in demonstrating, that, over the whole face of our planet, with the lonely exception of the naiTow pro- vince of Judea, there had rested, pre- viously to the birth of the Redeemer, a darkness altogether impenetrable. We are quite ready to allow, that, where the full blaze was not made visible, glim- merings and sparklings were caught ; so that, if upon no point, connected with futurity, perfect information were ob- tained, upon many points a degree of in- telligence was reached which should not be overlooked in our estimate of hea- thenism. We think it right to assert, under certain limitations, that man, whilst left to himself, dug frafrments of truth from the mighty quarry ; though we know that he possessed, not the ability of fashioning completely the sta- tue, nor even of combining into symme- try the detached portions brought up by his oft-renewed strivings. We do not, therefore, suppose it implied in the ex- pression of our text, that truth was un- known amongst men until, having been taught by the Redeemer, it might be de- signated " truth as it is in Jesus." On the contrary, we are persuaded that the Ephesians, however shut out from the advantages of previous revelations, pos- sessed many elements of moral truth be- fore Christ's apostles appeared in their city. Hence the definition of our text implies not, that, out of Jesus, there were no discoverable manifestations of truth ; but rather, that truth, when seen in and through Jesus, assumes new and dis- tinguishing ieatures. And it is upon this fact we desire, on the present occa- sion, to turn the main of your attention. We admit that certain portions of Ciirist's teaching related to truths vvhicl; were TRUTH AS IT IS IN JESUS. 117 net then, for the first time, made known to mankind. Other poilions either in- volved new disclosures, or brought facts into notice which had been strangely and fatally overlooked. But whether tlie truth wei-e new or old, the circum- stance of its being truth " as it is in Je- sus," gave it an aspect, and a character, which it would never have assumed, if communicated through another channel than the Mediator. Such we hold to be the drift of the expression. It becomes, then, our business to endeavor to prove, that " truth, as it is in Jesus," puts on a clothing, or a coloring, derived from the Redeemer ; so that if you separate truth from him who is " the way, the truth, and the life," John, 14 : 6, it shall seem practically a different thing from itself when connected with this glorious per- sonage. Now we shall take truth under two principal divisions, and compare it as "it is in Jesus " with what it is out of Jesus. We shall refer, first, to those truths which have to do with God's na- ture and character ; secondly, to those which have to do with man's condition. There may be, indeed, many minor de- partments of moral truth. But we think that these two great divisions include most, if not all, of the lesser. We turn then, first, to the truths which have to do with the nature and charac- ter of God. We begin with the lowest element of truth ; namely, that there is a great first cause, through whose agency hath arisen the fair and costly fabric of the visible universe. We have here a truth, which, under some shape or an- other, has been recognized and held in every age, and by every nation. Barba- rism and civilization have had to do with peculiar forms and modifications of this truth. But neither the rude processes of the one, nor the attenuating of the other, have availed to produce its utter banishment from the earth. However ranous the tribes into which the human race hath been broken, the phenomenon has never existed of a nation of atheists. The voyagers who have passed over waters which had never been ploughed by the seamen, and lighted upon islands whose loneliness had shut them out from the knowledge and companionship of other districts of the globe, have found always, amid the savago and secluded Inhabitants, the notion of some invisible being, great in his power, and awful in his vengeance. We cannot, therefore, in any sense maintain, that the truth of the existence of a God was undiscovered truth, so long as it was not " truth as it is in .Tesjis." Christ came not to teach what natural, or rather traditional, reli- gion was capable of teaching ; though he gave sanctions to its lessons, of which, heretofore, they had been altogether des- titute. But take the truth of the exist- ence of a God as it is out of Jesus, and then take that truth as it is in Jesus, and let us see whether, in the two ca- ses, the same truth will not bear a very different aspect. We know it to be said of Christ by St. Paul, that he was " the image of the invisible God." Colos. 1 : 15. It seems to us that the sense, in which Christ is the image, is akin to that in which he is the word of the Almighty. What speech is to thought, that is the incarnate Son to the invisible Father. Thought is a viewless thing. It can traverse space, and run to and fro through creation, and pass instantaneously from one extreme of the scale of being to the other; and, all the while, there is no power in my fellow-men to discern the careerings of this mysterious agent. But speech is manifested thought. It is thought em- bodied ; made sensible, and palpable, to those who could not apprehend it in its secret and silent expatiations. And pre- cisely what speech thus effects in regard to thought, the incarnate Son effected in regard to the invisible Father. The Son is the manifested Father, and, therefore, fitly termed " the Word : " the relation between the incarnate Son and the Fa- ther being accurately that between speech and thought ; the one exhibiting and setting forth the other. It is in somewhat of a similar sense that Christ may be termed " the image of the invi- sible God." " God is a Spirit." John, 4: 24. Of this spirit the creation is every where full, and the loneliest and most secluded spot is occupied by its presence- Nevertheless, we can discern little of the universal goings forth of this Deity. There are works above us, and around us, which present tokens of his wisdom and supremacy. But these, after all, are only feeble manifestations of his more illustrious attributes. Nay, they leave those attributes well-nigh wholly uurevealed. I cannot learn God's 118 TRUTH AS IT IS IN JESUS. holiness from the stars or the mountains. I cannot read his faithtuhiess in the ocean or the cataract. Even his wisdom, and power, and love, are but faintly portray- ed in the torn and disjointed fragments of this fallen creation. And seeing, therefore, that Deity, invisible as to his essence, can become visible as to his at- tributes, only through some direct mani- festation not found in his material work- manship, God sent his well-beloved Son to assume our flesh ; and this Son, ex- hibiting in and through his humanity as much of his divine properties as crea- tureship could admit, became unto man- kind " the image of the invisible God." He did not, in strict matter-of-fact, re- veal to mankind that there is a God. But he made known to them, most pow- erfully, and most abundantly, the nature and attributes of God. The beams of divinity, passing through his humanity as through a softening medium, shone upon the earth with a lustre sufficiently tempered to allow of their irradiating, without scorching and consuming. And they who gazed on this mysterious per- son, moving in his purity, and his bene- volence, through the lines of a depraved and scornful population, saw not indeed God — " for no man hath seen God at any time," 1 John, 4 : 12, and spirit must necessarily evade the searchings of sense — but they saw God imaged with the most thorough fidelity, and his every property embodied, so far as the immaterial can discover itself through the mateiial. Now we think you can scarcely fail to perceive, that if 'you detach the truth of the being of a God from Jesus, and if you then take this truth " as it is in Jesus," the difference in aspect is almost a difference in the truth itself. Apart from revelation, T can believe that there is a God. I look up:r the wonder- workings by which I ao encompassed ; and I must sacrifice all that belongs to me as a rational creature, if I espouse the theory that chance has been parent to the splendid combinations. But what can be more vague, what more indefi- nite, than those notions of Deity, which reason, at the best, is capable of form- ing ? The evil which is mixed with good in the creation ; the disordered ap- pearances which seem to mark the ab- sence of a supreme and vigilant govern- ment ; the frequent triumph of wicked- ness, and the correspondent depression of virtue ; these, and the like stern and undeniable mysteries, will perplex me in every attempt to master satisfactorily the Unity of Godhead. But let me re- gard Jesus as making known to me God, and straightway there succeeds a calm to my confused and unsettled imaginings. He tells me by his words, and shows me by his actions, that all things are at the disposal of one eternal and inscrutable Creator. Putting forth superhuman ability alike in the bestowment of what is good, and in the removal of what is evil, he furnishes me with the strictest demonstration that there are not two principles which can pretend to hold sway in the universe ; but that God, a being without rival, and alone in his ma- jesties, created whatsoever is good, and permitted whatsoever is evil. Thus the truth, the foundation of truth, of the existence of a God, takes the strength, and the complexion, of health, only in the degree that it is truth " as it is in Jesus." Men labored and strugsrled hard to reach the doctrine of the unity of Godhead. But philosophy, with all the splendor of its discoveries, could never banish polytheism from the earth. It was resen-ed for Christianity to establish a truth which, now, we are disposed to class amongst the elements of even natural theology. And when you contrast the belief in the existence of Deity which obtained generally be- fore the coming of Christ, with that es- tablished wheresoever the Gospel gains footing as a communication from hea- ven ; the one, a belief in many gods; the other, a belief in one God — the first, therefore, a belief from which i^eason herself now instinctively recoils ; tho second, a belief, which cannes on its front the dignity and beauty of a sulv lime moral fact — why, you will all quick- ly admit that the truth of the existence of God, as it is out of Jesus, differs, immeasurably, from that same truth, " as it is in Jesus : " and you will thus grant the accuracy of the proposition now under review, namely, that truth be- comes, practically, new truth, and ef- fective truth, by being truth " as it is in Jesus." Now, so far as natural theology is concerned, we derive, ordinarily, the truth of tho existence of God from the curious and mighty workmanship of TRUTH AS IT IS IN JESUS. 119 the visible creation. We conclude that a great intelligent cause must have epread out this panorama of grandeur, and loveliness, and contrivance. But let us deal with the truth tliat God built the worlds, just as with the other truth of there being a God. Let us take it out of Jesus, and then let us take it in Jesus. It is a vast deal easier for the mind to Eush onward into what is to come, than ackward mto what is past. Let a thing exist, and we can, in a certain sense, master the thought of its existence be- ing indefinitely continued. But if, in searching out the beginnings of its exist- ence, we can find no period at which it was not, then pi-esently the mind is con- founded, and the idea is too vast for its most giant-like grapplings. This is ex- actly the case with regard to the God- head. We are able, comparatively speaking, to take in the truth, that God shall never cease to be. But we have no capacity whatsoever for this other ti-uth, that God hath always been. I could go back a thousand ages, or a million ages, ay, or a thousand millions of ages ; and though the mind might be wearied with traversing so vast a district of time, yet if I then reached a point where pausing I might say, here Deity began, here God- head first rose into being, the worn spirit would recruit itself, and feel that the end compensated the toil of the journeying. But it is the being unable to assign any beginning ; rather, it is the knowing that there never was be- ginning ; this it is, we say, which hope- lessly distances every finite intellgence ; the most magnificent, but certainly, at the same time, the most overpowering truth, being that He, at whose word the univei'se commenced, knew never him- self a moment of commencement. Now the necessity under which we thus lie of ascribing beginning to God's works, but not to God himself, forces on us tlie contemplation of a period when no w(U-lds had started into being; and space, in its infinite circuits, was full only of the Eternal One. And then comes the question, as to the design and pur- pose of Deity in peopling with systems the majestic solitude, and surrounding himself with various orders of crea- tures. We confess, in all its breadth, the truth that God made the worlds. But the mind passes instantly on to the inquiry, why, and wherefore did He make them J And if you take the truth of the crea- tion of the universe out of Jesus, there is nothing but vague answer to give to such incjuiry. We may think that God's benevolence craved dependent objects over which it might pour its solicitudes. We may imagine that there was such desire of companionship, even in Deity, that it pleased not the Creator to re- main longer alone. But we must not forget, that, in assigning such reasons, we verge to the error of supposing a void in the happiness of God, the fiU- ing-up of which tasked the energies of his Almightiness. In answering a ques- tion, we are bound to take heed that we originate not others far more difficult of solution. We take then the truth of the crea- tion, " as it is in Jesus," and we will see whether it assume not very different features from those worn by it, as it is out of Jesus. We learn, from the tes- timony of St. Paul, that " all things were created by Christ, and for Christ." Col. 1 : 16, We would fix attention to this latter fact, " all things were crea- ted for Christ." We gather from this fact that the gorgeous structure of ma- terialism, spreading interminably above us and around us, is nothing more than an august temple, reared for consecra- tion to the Mediator's glory. '* All things were created for Christ," You ask me why God spangled the firma- ment with stars, and paved with worlds the expansions of an untravelled im- mensity, and poured forth the rich en- dowment of life on countless myriads of multiform creatures. And I tell you, that, if you debar me from acquaintance with " God manifest in the flesh," 1 Tim. 3 : 16, I may give you in reply some brilliant guess, or dazzling con- jecture, but nothing that will commend itself to thoughtful and well-disciplined minds. But the instant that I am brought into contact with revelation, and can associate creation with Christ, as alike its author and object, I have an answer which is altogether free from the vague- ness of speculation, I can tell you that the star twinkles not on the measureless expanse, and that the creatures move not on any one of those worlds whose number outruns our arithmetic, which hath not been created for the manifesta- 120 TRUTH AS IT IS IN JESCS. lion of Clmst's j^lory, and the advance- ment of Christ's purposes. We may not be able to define, with accuracy, the sublime ends which shall yet be attain- ed, when evil is expelled from this long- dehled section of the universe. We know only, that, though an inhdel world is banishing Christ from its councils, and the ranks of the blasphemer are leagu- ing to sweep away his name, and the scofters are insolently asking " where is the promise of his coming ; " 2 Peter, 3 : 4 ; he shall descend with the cloud and the hurricane as his heraldry, and circled with the magnificent sternness of celestial battle, turn the theatre of his humiliation into the theatre of his tri- umphs. Then — when " the spirits of just men made perfect," Heb. 12 : 23, shall have entered into the raised and glorified bodies ; and when the splendid and rejoicing multitude shall walk forth on the new earth, and be canopied with the new heavens — Christ shall emphati- cally " see of the travail of his soul ; " Isa. 53 : 11 : and then, from every field of immensity, crowded with admiring spectators, shall there roll in the ecstatic acknowledgment, " worthy, worthy, wor- thy is the Lamb." But, without de- sccTiding to particulars, we may assert it unequivocally proved by sundry de- clarations of the Bible, that suns, and planets, and angels, and men, the mate- rial creation with its walls, and domes, and columns, and the immaterial with its train upon train of lofty spirits — all these constitute one vast apparatus for effecting a mighty enthronement of Je- sus of Nazareth. And if you recur to the work of contrast in which we are en- gaged ; if you compare the truth of creation as it is out of Jesus with that same truth as it is in Jesus ; then, when you observe that, in the one case, the mind has nothing of a resting-place — that it can only wander over the fields which God hath strewed with his won- ders, confounded by the lustre without divining the intention — whereas in the other, each star, each system, each hu- man, each celestial being, fills some place in a mechanism which is working out the noble result of the coronation of Christ as Lord of all ; why, we feel that the assent of every one in this as- sembly must bo won to the position, that old trutli becomes wellnigh new truth, by being truth " as it in Jesus." But we wish to set before yoa yet simpler illustrations of the matter which we are engaged in demonstrating. The jioint we have in hand is the showing that truths, which refer to God's charac- ter, must be viewed in connection with Jesus, in order to their being rightly un- derstood or justly appreciated. We have endeavored to substantiate this, so far as the nature and works of the Al- mighty are concerned. Let us turn, however, for a few moments, to his at- tributes, and we shall find our position greatly corroborated. We take, for example, the justice of God. We might obtain, independently on the scheme of redemption, a deKnite and firm-built persuasion, that God is a just God, taking cognizance of the trans- gressions of his creatures. We do not, then, so refer to the sacrifice of Christ for proof of God's justice, as though no proof could be elsewhere obtained. The God of natural religion must be a God to whom sundry perfections are ascrib- ed ; and amongst such perfections jus- tice will find, necessarily, a place. But we argue that the demonstration of theory will never commend itself to men's minds like the demonstration of jiractico. There might have come to us a revela- tion from heaven, ushered in with incon- trovertible witness ; and this revelation might have stated, in language the bold- est and most uncjualified, that God's jus- tice could overlook no iota of offence, and dispense with no tittle of punish- ment. But, had we been left without a vivid exhibition of the workings of this justice, we should j^erpetually have softened down the statements of the woi'd, and argued that, in all pi-obability, far more was said than ever would be done. We should have reasoned up from human enactments to divine ; and, i finding that the former are oftentimes far larger in the threatening than in the ex- action, have concluded that the latter might, at last, exhibit the like inecjuality. Now, if we would deliver the truth of God's justice from these misappre- hensions, whether wilful or accidental, what process, we ask of you, lies at our disposal 1 It is quite useless to try ab- stract reasoning. The mind can evade it, and the heart has no concern with it. It will avail nothing to insist on the lite- ral force of expressions. The wiiole mischief lies in the questioning the tho- TRUTH AS IT IS IN JESUS. 121 rough putting- into effect ; in the iloubt- ing wlicther what is denounced shall be pornt l)y point inflicted. What then shall we du with this truth of God's jus^ tice 1 We reply, we must make it truth " as it is in Jesus." We send a man at once to the cross of Christ. We bid him gaze on the illustrious and myste- rious victim, stooping beneath the amazing burden of human transgression. We ask him whether he think there was remission of penalty on behalf of Plim, who, though clothed in humanity, was one with Deity ; or that the vials of wrath were spoiled of any of their scald- ing drops, ere emptied on the surety of our alienated tribes 1 We ask him whether the agonies of the garden, and the terrors of the crucifixion, furnish not a sufficient and thrilling demonstration, that God's justice, when it takes in hand the exaction of punishment, docs the work thoroughly ; so that no bolt is too ponderous to be driven into the soul, no offence too minute to be set down in the reckoning ] And if, when the sword of justice awoke against the fellow of the Almighty, it returned not to the scab- bard till bathed in the anguish of the sufferer; and if God's hatred of sin be so intense and overwhelming a thing, that, ere transgressors could be received into favor, the Eternal Son interposed and humbled himself so that angels drew back confounded, and endured vica- riously such extremity of wretchedness that the earth reeled at the spectacle, and the heavens were darkened ; why, shall there, or can there, be harborage of the deceitful expectation, that if any one of us, the sons of the apostate, rush on the bosses of the buckler of the Lord, and make trial for himself of the justice of the Almighty, he shall not find that justice as strict in its works as it is stern in its words, prepared to deal out to him, uns])aringly and unflinchingly, the fiery portion whose threatenings glare from the pages of Scripture ] So then we may c^unt it legitimate to maintain, that the truth of God being a just God is ap- preciated truth, and effective truth, only in the degree that is truth " as it is in Jesus : " and we add, consequently, new witness to the fact, that the definition of our text describes truth accurately un- der its influential and life-giving forms. We may pursue much the same line of argument in reference to the truth of the love of God. We may confess, that he who looks not at this attribute through the person and work of the Mediator, may obtain ideas of it which shall, in certain rcsjjects, be correct. And yet, after all, it would be hard to prove satisfactorily, by natural theolo- gy, that " God is love." John, 4 : 8. There may be a kind of poetical, or Arcadian divinity, drawn from the brightness of sunshine, and the rich enamel of flowers, and the deep dark blue of a sleeping lake. And, taking the glowing landscape as their page of the- ology, men may sketch to themselves God unlimited in his benevolence. But when the sunshine is succeeded by the dai'kness, and the flowers are withered, and the waters wrought into madness, can they find in the wrath and devasta- tion that assurance of God's love which they dei'ived, unhesitatingly, from the calm and the beauty 1 The matter of fact, we hold to be, that Natural The- ology, at the best, is a system of uncer- tainties, a balancing of opposites. I should draw different conclusions from the genial breathings of one day, and the desolating simoon of the next. And though when I had thrown me down on an alpine summit, and looked forth on the clusterings of the grand and the lovely, canopied with an azure that was full of glory ; a hope, that my Creator loved me, might have been gathered from scenery teeming with impresses of kind- ness, and apparently sending out from waving forests, and gushing fountains, and smiling villages, the anthem of an acknowledgment that God is infinitely beneficent ; yet if, on a sudden, there passed around me the rushings of the hurricane, and there came up from the valleys the shi-ieks of an afirighted peasantry, and the torrents went dowR in their strength, sweeping away the la- bor of man's hands, and the corn and the wood which had crowned the fields as a diadem ; oh, the confidence which had been given me by an exhibition which appeared eloquent of the benevo- lence of Godhead, would yield to horror and trepidation, whilst the Eternal One seemed walking before me, the tempest his voice, and the lightning his glance, and a fierce devastation in his every foot-print. But even allowing the idea gained, that " God is love," there is no property 16 122 TRUTH AS IT IS IN JESUS. of the Creator concerning which it is , easier to fall into mistake. We have no ; standard by which to estimate divine af- fections, unless one which we fashion i out of the results of the workings of hu- man. And we know well enough, that, j amongst ourselves, an intense and over- \ weening attachment is almost sure to blind man to the faults of its object, or to cause, at the least, that when the faults are discerned, due blame is with- held. So that, whilst we have not be- fore us a distinct exhibition of God's love, we may fall naturally into the error of ascribing an effeminate tenderness to the Almighty, and reckon, exactly in proportion as we judge the love amazing, that it will never permit our being given over to torment. Hence, admitting it to be truth, yea, most glorious and bless- ed truth, that the creature is loved by the Creator, this truth must be viewed through a rectifying medium, which shall correct the distortions which a de- praved nature produces. Now we maintain again that this rec- tifying medium must be the person and work of the Savior. In other words, we must make the truth of God's love, truth " as it is in Jesus," and then, at one and the same time, we shall know how ample is the love, and be guarded against abusing it. When we observe that God loved us so well as to give his Son to death for us, we perceive that the immenseness of this love leaves im- agination far behind in her least fettered soarings. But when we also observe that love so unheard of, could not advance sti'aight to the rescue of its objects, but must wait, ere it could breathe words of forgiveness to the fallen, the outwork- ings of a task of ignominy and blood ; there must vanish at once, the idle ex- pectancy of a tenderness not proof against the cry of despair, and we must learn (unless we wilfully close the mind against conviction) that the love of a holy, and righteous, and immutable Be- ing is that amazing principle, which can stir the universe in our behalf during the season of grace, and yet, as soon as that season have terminated, resign us unhesitatingly to the ininistry of ven- geance. Thus, take the truth of God's love out of Jesus, and you will dress up a weak and womanish sympathy, which cannot permit the punishment of the disobedient. But, on the other hand, take this truth " as it is in Jesus," and you have the love immeasurable in its stature, but uncompromising in its pe- nalties ; eager to deliver the meanest who repents, yet nerved to abandon the thousands who die hardened ; threaten ing, therefore, the obdurate in the very degree that it encourages the peni- tent : and when you thus contrast truth " as it is in Jesus," with truth as it is out of Jesus, you will more and more recognize the power and the worth of the expression, that the Ephesians had been taught " as the truth is in Jesus." We might employ this kind of illus- tration in regard to other attributes of God. We might show you that cor- rect and practical views of the truths of God's faithfulness, God's holiness, God's wisdom, are only to be derived from the work of redemption ; and this would be showing you that truth must be truth " as it is in Jesus," if we would acquaint ourselves with the cha- racter of God. But we waive the fur- ther prosecution of our first head of discoui-se, and ask attention to a few remarks which have to do with the se- cond. We divided truth into two great de- partments ; truth which relates to the character of God, truth which relates to the condition of man. We proceed, therefore, to affirm, in reference to the condition of man, that truth, if rightly understood, or thoroughly influential, must be truth " as it is in Jesus." We find it admitted, for example, in most quarters, that man is a fallen being, with faculties weakened, if not wholly incapacitated for moral achievement. Yet this general admission is one of the most heartless, and unmeaning things in the world. It consists with the har- boring pride and conceit. It tolerates many forms and actings of self-righte- ousness. And the matter-of-fact is, that man's moral disability is not to be de- scribed, and not understood theoretical- ly. We want some bold, definite, and tangible measurements. But we shall find these only in the wo'k of Christ Jesus. I learn the depth to which I have sunk, from the length of the chain let down to updraAV me. I as- certain the mightiness of the ruin by examining the machinery of restoration. I gather that I must be, in the broadest sense, unable to affect delivei'ance for TRUTH AS IT IS IN JESUS. 123 myself, from observing that none less than the Son of the Highest had strengtli enough to fight the battles of our race. Thus the truth of human apostacy, of human corruption, of human helpless- ness — how shall this be understood truth and effective 1 We answer, simply throufjh being truth " as it is in Jesus." In the history of the Incarnation and Crucifixion wo read, in characters not to be misinterpreted, the announcements, that man has destroyed himself, and that, whatever his original powers, he is now void of ability to turn unto God, and do things well-pleasing in his sight. You do not, indeed, alter these truths, if you destroy all knowledge of the In- carnation and Crucifixion. But you re- move their massive and resistless exhi- bition, and leave us to our own vague and partial computations. We have no- thing practical to which to appeal, no- thing fixed by which always to estimate. Thus, in spite of a seeming recognition of truth, we shall be turned adrift on a wide sea of ignorance and self-sufficien- cy ; and all because truth may be to us truth as it is in moral philosophy, truth as it is in well-arranged ethics, truth as it is in lucid and incontrovertible state- ments ; and yet prove nothing but de- spised, and ill-understood, and power- less truth, as not being to us truth " as it is in Jesus." We add that the law of God, which has been given for the regulation of our conduct, is a wonderful compendium of truth. There is not a single working of wickedness, though it be the lightest and most secret, which escapes the de- nouncements of this law ; so that the statute-book proves itself truth by de- lineating, with an unvarying accuracy, the whole service of the father of lies. But who knows any thing of this truth, unless acquainted with the law as ex- pounded and fulfilled by Christ ] Christ in his discourses expanded every pre- cept, and in his obedience exhibited every demand. Ho, therefi)re, who would know the truth which there is in the law, must know this truth " as it is in Jesus." He moreover, who would not be appalled by this truth, must view it " as it is in Jesus." Knowledge of the law would crush a man, if unaccompa- nied by the consciousness that Christ obeyed the law in his stead. So that truth " as it is in Jesus," this is knowl- edge, and this is comfort. And finally — for we must hurry over ground where there is much which might tempt us to linger — look at the context of the words under review, and you will find that truth " as it is in Jesus," differs from that truth as it is out of Jesus, in being a sanctifying thing. The Ephesians were " taught as the truth is in Jesus," to " put off, concerning the former con- versation, the old man, which is corrupt according to the deceitful lusts." Hence — and this, after all, is the grand distinc- tion — truth, " as it is in Jesus," is a thing of the heart ; whereas truth, as it is out of Jesus, is a thing of the head. Dear Brethren, ye cannot be too often told that without holiness " no man shall see the Lord." Hebrews, 12 : 14. If no vigorous process of sanctification be going on within, we are destitute of the organs by which to read truth in the holy child Jesus. Or, rather, we are ignorant of the characters in which truth is graven on the Savior ; and there- fore, though we may read it in books and manuscripts, on the glorious scroll of the heavens, and in the beautiful tracery of forest and mountain, we can never peruse it as written in the person and work of God's only and well-be- loved Son. The mortification of the flesh — the keeping under the body — the plucking out the off*ending right eye — the cutting off the offending right hand — these, so to speak, are the processes of tuition by which men are taught " as the ti'uth is in Jesus." Sanctification conducts to knowledge, and then knowl- edge speeds the work of sanctification. We beseech you, therefore, that ye strive, through God's grace, to give yourselves to the business of putting off the old man. Will ye affirm that ye believe there is a heaven, and yet act as though persuaded that it is not worth striving for 1 Believe, only believe, that a day of coronation is yet to break on this long-darkened globe, and the sinews will bo strung, like those of the wrestlers of old, who saw the garlands in the judges' hands, and locked themselves in an iron embrace. Strive — for the grasp of a destroyer is upon you, and if ye be not wrenched away, it will palsy you, and crush you. Strive — for the foe is on the right hand, on the left hand, be- fore you, behind you ; and ye must be trampled under foot, if ye struggle not, 124 THE DIFFICULTIES OP SCRIPTURE. and strike not, as those who feel them- selves bound in a death-grapple. Strive — there is a crown to be won — the mines of the earth have not furnished its metal, and the depths of the sea hide nothing so radiant as the jewels with which it is wreathed. Strive — for if ye gain not this crown — alas ! alas ! ye must have the scorpions for ever round the forehead, and the circles of that flame wliich is fanned by the breath of the Almighty's displeasure. Strive then, but strive in the strength of your risen Lord, and not in your own. Ye know not how soon that Lord may come. Whilst the sun walks his usual path on the firmament, and the grass is springing in our fields, and merchants are crowding the exchange, and politi- cians jostHng for place, and the volup- tuous killing time, and the avaricious counting gold, " the sign of the Son of Man," Matthew, 24 : 30, shall be seen in the heavens, and the august throne of fire and of cloud be piled for judgment. Be ye then persuaded. If not persuad- ed, be ye alarmed. There is truth in Jesus which is terrible, as well as truth which is soothing : terrible, for he shall be Judge as well as Savior ; and ye cannot face Him, ye cannot stand before Him, unless ye now give ear to His in- vitation, " Come unto me, all ye that la- bor and are heavy laden, and I will give you rest." Matthew, 11 : 28. SERMON XII. THE DIFFICULTIES OF SCRIPTURE. " In wliich aie some things hard to be understood, which they that are unlearned and unstable wrest, as they da also the other Scriptures, unto their own destruction." — 2 Peter, iii. 16. The writings of St. Paul, occupying, as they do, a large portion of the New Testament, treat much of the sublimer and more difficult articles of Christiani- ty. It is undeniable that there is a great deal made known to us by the Epistles, which could only imperfectly, if it all, be derived from the Gospels. We have the testimony of Christ himself that he had many things to say to his disciples, which, whilst he yet ministered on earth, they were not prepared to receive. Hence it was altogtjther to be expected that the New Testament would be, what we find it, a progressive book ; the com- munications of intelligence growing with the fuller opening out of the dispensa- tion. The deep things of the sovereign- ty of God; the mode of the justification of sinners, and its perfect consistence with all the attributes of the Creator; the mysteries bound up in the rejection of the Jew, and the calling of the Gentile ; these enter largely into the Epistles of St. Paul, though only faint- ly intimated by writers who precede him in the canon of Scripture. And it is a natural and unavoidable consequence on the greater abstruseness of the topics which are handled, that the apostle's wri- tings should present greater difficulties to the BibHcal student. With the ex- ception of the Book of Revelation, which, as dealing with the future, is necessarily hard to be interpreted, the Epistle to the Romans is probably that part of the Ne^v Testament which most demands the labors of the commentator. And THE DIFFICULTIES OF SCUIPTURE. 125 though vvc select this epistle as pre- eminent in difliculties, we may say generally of the writings of St. Paul, that, whilst they present simple and beautiful truths which all may under- stand, they contain statements of doc- trine, which, even after long study and prayer, will be but })artially unfolded by the most gifted inquirers. With this admission of difliculty we must join the likeliliood of misconception and misap- ])licution. Wlicre there is confessedly obscurity, we may naturally expect that wrong theories will be formed, and er- roneous inferences deduced. If it be hard to determine the true ineaning of a passage, it can scarcely fail that some false interpretation will be advanced, or espoused, by the partizans of theologi- cal systems. If a man have error to maintain, he will turn for support to jiassages of Scripture, of which, the real sense being doubtful, a plausible may be advanced on the side of his falsehood. If, again, an individual wish to persuade himself to believe tenets which encourage him in presumption and unholiness, he may easily fasten on separate verses, which, taken by them- selves, and without concern for the analogy of faith, seem to mark out privi- leges superseding the necessity of striv- ing against sin. So that we can find no cause of surprise in the fact, that St. Peter should speak of the Epistles of St. Paul as wrested by the " unlearned and unstable " to their own destruction. He admits that in these Epistles " are some things hard to be understood." And we consider it, as we have just ex- ])lained, a necessary consequence on the difficulties, that there should be perver- sions, whether wilful or unintentional, of the writings. But you will observe, that, whilst St. Peter confesses both the difficulty and the attendant danger, he gives not the slightest intimation that the Epistles of St. Paul were unsuited to general pe- rusal. The Roman Catholic, when sup- porting that tenet of his Church which shuts up the Bible from the laity, will appeal confidently to this statement of St. Peter, arguing that the allowed diffi- culty, and the declared danger, give the Apostle's authority to the measure of exclusion. But certainly it were not easy to find a more strained and far- fetched defence. Had St. Peter intend- ed to infer, that, because obscurity an»3 abuse existed, there ought to be prohi- bition, it is altogether unaccountable that he did not lay down the inference. A fairer opportunity could never be pre- sented for the announcement of such a rule as the Roman Catholic advocates. And the mere finding, that, when an in- spired writer speaks of the dangers of perusal, he gives not even a hint which can be tortured into sanction of its pro- hibition, is, itself, so overj^owering a witness to the right of all men to read the Bible for themselves, that we wonder at the infatuation of those who can ap- peal to the passage as supporting a counter-opinion. You will observe tliat whilst St. Peter speaks only of the writings of St. Paul as presenting " things hard to be understood," he ex- tends to the whole Bible the wresting of the unlearned and unstable. So that, when there is wanting that chastened, and teachable, and prayerful disposition, which should always be brought to the study of Scripture, the plainest passa- ges and the most obscure may be equally abused. After all, it is not so much the difficulty which makes the danger, as the temper in which the Bible is perused. And if St. Peter's statement prove any thing, it proves that selections from Ho- ly Writ, such as the papist will allow, ai-e to the full as fraught with peril, as the unmutilated volume ; and that, there- fore, unless a man is to read all, he ought not to read a line. We cannot but ad- mire the manner in which the apostle has expressed himself. If he had specified difficulties ; if he had stated that it was upon such or such points that St. Paul's Epistles, or the Scriptures in general, were obscure ; those who are disjiosed to give part, and to keep back part, migjit have had a ground for their decision, and a rule for their selection. But since we have nothing but a round assertion that all the Scriptures may be, and are, wrested by the unlearned and unstable, there is left us no right of determining what is fit for perusal and what is not fit : so that, in allowing a solitary verse to be read, we run the same risk as in allowing every chapter from the first to the last. Thus we hold it clear to every candid inquirer, that our text simply proves the necessity of a right temper to the profitable persual of the Bible. It ffives no such exclusive characteristic 126 THE DIFFICULTIES OF SCRIPTURE. to the WTitings of St. Paul, as would warrant our pronouncing them peculiar- ly unsuited to the weak and illiterate. If it sanction the withdrawment of any part of the Bihle, it imperatively de- mands the withdrawment of the whole. And forasmuch as it thus gives not the shadow of authority to the selection of one part and the omission of another ; and forasmuch, moreover, as it contains not the remotest hint that danger is a reason for shutting up the Scriptures ; we rather learn from the passage, that free as the air should be the Bible to the whole human population, than that a priesthood, sitting in assize on its contents, may dole out fragments of the word, or keep it, if they please, undi- videdly to themselves. We are not, however, required, in ad- dressing a protestant assembly, to ex- pose, at any length, the falsehood of that doctrine of popery to which we have referred. We introduce its men- tion, simply because its advocates en- deavor to uphold it by our text. They just give a new witness to the truth of the text. They show, that, like the rest of the Scriptures, this verse may be per- verted. The very passage which de- clares that all Sci'ipture may be wrested, has itself been wrested to the worst and most pernicious of purposes. So that, as if in verification of the statement of St. Peter, when that statement became part of the Bible, it was seized upon by the " unlearned and unstable," and wrenched from its oinginal bearings. But we desire, on the present occa- sion, to bring before you what we count important considerations, suggested by the announcement that there are diffi- culties' in Scripture. We have the de- cision of an inspired writer, that in the volume of inspiration there ** are some things hard to be understood." We lay great stress on the fact, that it is an in- spired writer who gives this decision. The Bible attests the difficulties of the Bible. If we knew the l^ible to be dif- ficult, only as finding it difficult, we might be inclined to suppose it luminous to others, though obscure to ourselves. We should not so thoroughly understand that tlie diflicultics, which one man meets with in the study of Scripture, are not simply produced by his intellectual in- feriority to another — no, nor by his mo- ral or spiritual inferiority — but are, in a great degree, inherent in the subject ex amined, so that no equipment of learn- ing and prayer \\-ill altogether secure their removal. The assertion of oui text may be called an unqualified asser- tion. The proof, that there are " things hard to be understood," does not lie in the fact, that these things are wrested by " the unlearned and unstable : " for then, by parity of reason, we should make St. Peter declare that all Scrip- tui'e is " hard to be understood." The assertion is independent on what fol- lows, and shows the existence of diffi- culties, whether or no they gave occa- sion to perversions of the Bible. And though it is of the writings of St. Paul, and of these alone, that the assertion is made, we may infer naturally, from the remainder of the passsage, that the apos- tle intended to imply that difficulties are scattered through the whole of the Scrip- tures, so that it is a general characteris- tic of the Bible, that there are in it "some things hard to be understood." Now it is upon this characteristic — a characteristic, you observe, not imagined by ourselves, because often unable to bring out all the force of a passage, but fastened on the Scriptures by the Scrip- tures themselves — that we desire to turn your attention. We have before us a feature of revelation, drawn by revela- tion itself, and not sketched by human surmise or discovery. And it seems to us that this feature deserves our very closest examination, and that from such examination we may look to derive les- sons of more than ordinary worth. We take into our hands the Bible, and re- ceive it as a communication of God's will, made, in past ages, to his creatures. And we know that, occupying, as all men do, the same level of helplessness and destitution, so that the adventitious circumstances of rank and education bring with them no differences in moral position, it cannot be the design of the Almighty, that superior talent, or supe- rior Ic.arning, should be essential to the obtaining due acquaintance with revela- tion. There can be no fairer expecta- tion than that the Bible will be inrelll- gible to every capacity, and that it will not, either in matter or manner, adapt itself to one class in preference to an- other. AjuI when, with all this antece- dent idea that revelation will condescend to the very meanest understanding, wo THE DIFFICULTIES OF SCRIPTURE. 127 find, as it were on the covers of the book, the description that there are in it " things hard to be understood," we may, at first, feel something of surprise that difficulty should occur where we had looked for simplicity. And undoubt- edly, however fair the expectation just mentioned, the Bible is, in some senses, a harder book for the uneducated man than for the educated. So far as human instrumentality is concerned, the great mass of a population must be indebted to a few learned men for any acquaint- ance whatsoever with the Scriptures. Never let learning be made of small ac- count in reference to religion, when, without learning, a kingdom must re- main virtually without a i-evelation. If there were no learning in a land, or if that learning were not brought to bear on translations of Scripture, how could one out of a thousand know any thing of the Bible ] Those who would dis- pense with literature in a priesthood, undermine a nation's great rampart against heathenism. And just as the unlearned are thus, at the very outset, dependent altogether on the learned, it is not to be denied that the learned man wir p^osess always a superiority over iha unlearned, and that he has an appa- ratus at his disposal, which the other has not, for overcoming much that is difficult in Scripture. But after all, when St. Peter speaks of " things hard to be understood," he cannot be considered as referring to ob- scurities which human learning will dis- sipate. He certainly mentions the " un- learned " as wresting these difficulties, implying that the want of one kind of learning produced the perversion. But, of course, he intends by " unlearned " those who were not fully taught of the Spirit, and not those who were deficient in the acquirements of the academy. There wei'e but few of the learned of the earth amongst the apostles and their followers ; and it were absurd to ima- gine that all but those wrested the Scrip- tures to their destruction. And, there- fore, whilst ^ve frankly allow that there ai'e difficilties in Holy Writ, for the coping with which human learning equips an individual — historical difficulties, for example, grammatical, chronological — we see, at once, that it cannot be to these St. Peter refers ; since, when he wrote, either those difficulties had not come into existence, or he himself was classed with the " unlearned," if by " unlearned " were intended the men un- enlightened by science. We thus assure ourselves, that, in al- lowing " things hard to be understood " to find place in the volume of inspira- tion, God has dealt with mankind irres- pectively of the differences of rank. It cannot be human learning which makes these things comparatively easy to be understood. They must remain hard, ay, and equally hard, whatever the lite- rary advantages of a student ; otherwise the whole statement of our text becomes unintelligible. The " unlearned," ir short, are also " the unstable : " it is not the want of earthly scholarship which makes the difficulties, it is the want of moral steadfastness which occasions the wresting. We have nothing, therefore, to do, in commenting on the words of St. Peter, with difficulties Avhich may be caused by a defective, and re- moved by a liberal education. The dif- ficulties must be difficulties of subject. The things which are handled, and which are " hard to be understood," nuist, in themselves, be deep and mys- terious, and not such as present intrica- cies which human criticism may prevail to unravel. And that there are many of these things in the Bible will be ques- tioned by none who have given them- selves to its study. It were a waste of time to adduce instances of the difficul- ties. To be unacquainted with them is to be unacquainted with Scripture ; whilst to be surprised at their existence is to be sui-prised at what we may call unavoidable. It is this latter point which chiefly requires illustration, though there ai'e others which must not be passed over in silence. We assume, therefore, as matter-of-fact, that there are in Scripture " things hard to be un- derstood." We shall endeavor to show you, in the first place, that this fact was to be expected. We shall then, in the second place, point out the advantages which follow from the fact, and the dis- positions which it should encourage. And, first, we would show you — though this point requires but brief ex- amination — that it was to be cx])ected that the Bible would contain " some things hard to be understood." We should like to be told what stamp of in- spiration there would be upon a Bible 128 THE DIFFICULTIES OF SCRIPTURE. containing nothing "hard to be under- stood." Is it not almost a self-evident Sroposition, that a revelation without ifficulty could not be a revelation of divinity 1 If there lie any thing of that unmeasured separation, which we are all conscious there must lie, between ourselves and the Creator, is it not clear that God cannot be comprehensible by man ; and that, therefore, any professed revelation, which left him not incom- prehensible, would be thereby its own witness to the falsehood of its preten- sions ? You ask a Bible which shall, in every part, be simple and intelligible. But could such a Bible discourse to us of God, that Being who must remain, necessarily and for ever, a mystery to the very highest of created intelligences 1 Could such a Bible treat of purposes, which, extending themselves over un- limited ages, and embracing the uni- verse Avithin their ranges, demand eter- nity for their development, and inilnity for their theatre ? Could such a Bible put forward any account of spiritual operations, seeing that, whilst confined by the trammels of matter, the soul cannot fathom herself, but withdraws herself, as it were, and shrinks from her own scrutiny ] Could such a Bible, in short, tell us anything of our condition, whether by nature or grace ] Could it treat of the entrance of evil ; could it treat of the Incarnation ; of Regenera- tion ; of a Resurrection ; of an Immor- tality ? In reference to all these mat- ters, there are in the Bible " things hard to be understood." But it is not the manner in which they are handled which makes them " hard to be under- stood." The subject itself gives the diiliculty. If you will not have the difficulty, you cannot have the subject. You must have a Revelation which shall say nothing on the nature of God, for that must remain inexplicable ; noth- ing on the soul, for that must remain in- explicable ; nothing on the processes and workings of grace, for these must remain inexplicable. You must have a Revelation, which shall not only tell you that such and such things arc, but which shall also explain to you how they are : their mode, their constitu- tion, their essence. And if this were the character of Revelation, it would undoubtedly be so constructed as never to overtask reason ; but it would, jnst as clearly, be kept within this boundary only by being stripped of all on which we mainly need a Revelation. A Revelation in which there shall be nothing " hard to be understood," must limit itself by the powers of reason, and, therefore, exclude those very to- pics on which, reason being insufficient, revelation is required. We wish you to be satisfied on the point, that Scriptu- ral difficulties are not the result of ob- scurity of style, of brevity of commu- nication, or of a designed abstruseness in the method of argument. The diffi- culties lie simply in the mysteriousness of the subjects. There is no want of simplicity of language when G the spectacle — a glimpse of which must almost convulse with amazement the glorious ranks of the celestial world — that of a being whom Christ purchas- ed with his blood, whom the Almighty hath invited, yea besought, to have mer- cy upon himself, turning into jest the messages of the Gospel, denying the divinity of the Lord his Redeemer, or building up, with the shreds and frag- ments of human reason, a baseless structure, which, like the palace of ice, shall resolve itself suddenly into a tu- multuous flood, bearing away the inhab- itant, a struggling thing, but a lost ? Yea, if I knew there were one amongst you who had surrendered himself to the lies of an ensnaring philosophy, then, although I should feel, that, per- haps even whilst I speak, he is pitying my credulity, or ridiculing my fanati- cism, I would not suffer him to depart without calling on the congregation to baptize him, as it were, with their tears ; and he should be singled out — oh, not for rebuke, not for contempt, not for an- ger — but as more deserving to be wept over, and wailed over, than the poorest child of human calamity, more worthy of the agonies of mortal symj)athy, than he who eats the bitterest bread of affliction, and in whose ear ring mourn- fully the sleepless echoes of a funeral bell. Yea, and he should not leave the sanctuary till we had told him, that, though there be in the Bible " things hard to be imderstood," there is one thing beautifully plain, and touchingly simple : and that is, that " the blood of Jesus Christ cleanseth us from all sin." 1 John, 1:7. So that it is not yet too late : the blasphemer, the scorner, the infidel — oh, the fire is not yet falling, and the earth is not yet opening — let THE DIFFICULTIES OP SCRIPTURE 137 him turn unto the Lord, and confess his iniquity, and cry for pardon, and a sweep of joy from the angels' harp- strings shall tell out the astounding fact, that he is no longer a stranger and for- eigner, but a ^How-citizen with the saints, and of the household of God. But we hasten to a conclusion. We again press upon all of you the import- ance of reading the Bible with prayer. And whilst the consciousness that Scripture contains " things hard to be understood," should bring us to its stu- dy, in a dependent and humble temper, the thought, that what we know not now, we shall know hereafter, should make each difficulty, as we leave it un- vanquished, minister to our assurance that a wider sphere of being, a nearer vision, and mightier faculties, await us when the second advent of the Lord winds up the dispensation. Thus should the mysteries of the Bible teach us, at one and the same time, our nothing- ness, and our greatness ; producino- hu- mility, and animating hope. I bow be- fore theso mysteries. I knew -that I should find, and I pretend not to re- move them. But whilst I thus prostrate myself, it is with deep gladness and ex- ultation of spirit. God would not have hinted the mystery, had he not desi"^ned hereafter to explain. And, therefore, are my thoughts on a far-off home, and rich things are around me, and the voices of many harpers, and the shin- ings of bright constellations, and the clusters of the cherub and the seraph ; and a whisper, which seems not of this earth, is circulating through the soul, " Now we see through a glass darkly, but then face to face ; now I know in part, but then shall I know even as also I am known." 1 Cor. 13 : 12. May God grant unto all of us to be both abased and quickened by those things in the Bible which are " hard to be uu- derstood." 18 S E E M I S PREACHED BEFORE THE UNIVERSITY OF CAMBRIDGE. FEBRUARY, 1836. The Author begs to state, that he prints these Sermons in compliance with the wish of many Members of the University. Immediately after their delivery, he received an address from the resident Bachelors and Undergraduates, headed by the most distinguished names, and numerously signed, requesting their publication. The same request was also made from other quarters. Under these circumstances the Author felt that he had nothing to do, but to regret that the Sermons were not more deserving of the interest thus kindly manifested, and to commit them at once to the press. Camberwell, March 10, 1836. SERMON I. THE GREATNESS AND CONDESCENSION OF GOD. " Thy kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and thy dominion endureth throughout ail generations. The Lord up holdeth all that fall, and lifteth up all those that be bowed down."' — Psalm, cxlv. 13, 14. What we admire in these verses, is their combining the magnificence of un- limited power with the assiduity of unlimited tenderness. It is this combi- nation which men are apt to regard as well-nigh incredible, supposing that a Being so great as God can never concern himself witli beings so inconsiderable as themselves. Tell them that God lifteth up those that be bowed down, and they cannot imagine that his kingdom and dominion arc unbounded ; — or tell them, on the other hand, of the greatness of his empire, and they think it impossible that he should upliold all that fall. If you represent Deity as busied with what they reckon insignificant, the rapid im- pression is, that he cannot, at the same time, be equally attentive to what is vast ; and if you exl»ibit him as occupied with what is vast, there is a sudden misgiving that the insignificant must escape his observation. And it is of great import- ance, that men be taught to view in God that combination of properties which is affirmed in our text. It is certain that the greatness of God is often turned into an argument, by which men would bring doubt on the truths of Redemption and Providence. The unmeasured inferi- ority of man to his Maker is used in proof, that so costly a work as that ot Redemption can never have been exe- cuted on our behalf; and that so un- wearied a watchfulness as that of Prov- idence can never be engaged in our service. Whereas, no reason whatever can be derived from our confessed insig- nificance, against our being the objects whether of Redemption or of Piovi- THE GREATNESS AND CONDESCENSION OF GOD. 139 dence — seeing it is equally characteristic of Deity, to attend to the inconsiderable and to the great, to extend liis dominion throughout all genei'ations, and to lift up those that be bowed down. It is on this truth we would employ our present discourse, endeavoring to prove, that human insignificance, as set in contrast with divine greatness, fur- nishes no argument against the docti-ine of our Redemption, and none against that of an universal Providence. Now a man will consider the heavens, the work of God's fingers, the moon and the stars which he hath ordained, and he will perceive that the earth on which we dwell is but the solitary unit of an innumerable multitude. It appears to him as though, if this globe were sud- denly annihilated, it would scarcely be missed from the firmament, and leave no felt vacancy in the still crowded fields of the heavens. And if our earth be thus so insignificant an unit that its ab- straction would not disturb the splendors and harmonies of the universe, how shall we think that God hath done so won- drous a thing for its inhabitants as to send his own Son to die in their stead 1 Thus an argument is attempted to be drawn from the insignificance of man to the improbability of Redemption ; one verse of our text is set against the other ; and the confessed fact, that God's do- minion is throufjhout all orenerations, is opposed to the alleged fact, that he gave his own Son that he might lift up the fallen. But it ought at least to be remembered that man was God's workmanship, made after his image, and endowed with pow- ers which fitted him for lofty pursuits. The human race may or may not be insig- nificant. We know nothing of the or- ders of intelligence which stretch up- wards between oui'selves and God ; and we ai'e therefore incompetent to decide what place we occupy in the scale of creation. But at the least we know, in- dependently of Revelation, that a mag- nificent scene was appointed for our dwelling ; and that when God reared a home for man, he built it of the sublime and the beautiful, and lavished alike his might and his skill on the furniture of its chambers. No one can survey the works of nature, and not perceive that God has some regai'd for the children of men, however fallen and polluted they may be. And if God manifest a regard for us in temporal things, it must be fai from incredible that he would do tho same in spiritual. There can be nothin» fairer than the expectation, that he would provide for our well-being as moral and accountable crcatur.es, with a cai-e at least equal to that exhibited to- wards us in our natural capacity. So that it is perfectly credible that God would do something on behalf of the fallen ; and then the question is, whether any thing less than Redemption through Christ would be of worth and of efficacy"? It is certain that we cannot conceive any possible mode, except the revealed mode through the sacrifice of Christ, in which God could be both just and the justifier of sinners. Reckon and reason as we will, we can sketch out no plan by which transgressors might be saved, the divine attributes honored, and yet Christ not have died. So far as we have the power of ascertaining, man must have remain- ed unredeemed, had he not been redeem- ed through the Incarnation and Cru- cifixion. And if it be ciedible that God would effectively interpose on man's behalf; and if the only discoverable me- thod in which he could thus interpose, be that of Redemption through the sacrifice of his Son ; what becomes of the alleged inci-edibility, founded on the greatness of God as contrasted with the insignificance of man 1 We do not de- preciate the wonders of the interference. We will go all lengths in proclaiming it a prodigy which confounds the most masterful, and in pronouncing it a mys- tery whose depths not even angels can fathom, that, for the sake of beings in- considerable as ourselves, there should have been acted out an arrangement which brought Godhead into flesh, and gave up the Creator to ignominy and death. But the greatness of the wonder furnishes no just ground for its disbelief. There can be no weight in the reasoning, that because man is so low and God so high, no such work can have been wrought as the Redemption of our race. We are certain that we are cared for in our temporal capacity; and we conclude, therefore, that we cannot have been neglected in our eternal. And then — • finding that, unless redeemed through the sacrifice of Christ, there is no sup- posable method of human deliverance — it is not the brightness of the moon as 140 THE GREATNESS AND CONDESCENSION OP GOD. she travels in her lustre, and it is not i the array of stars which are marshalled on the firmament, that shall make us deem it incredible that God would give his Son for our rescue : rather since moon and stars light up man's home, they shall do nothing but assure us of the Creator's loving-kindness ; and thus render it a thing to be believed — though still amazing, still stupendous — that He whose kingdom is an everlasting king- dom, and whose dominion endureth throughout all generations, should have made himself to be sin f()r us, that He might upheld all that fall, and lift up all those that be bowed down. But it is in regard to the doctrine of an universal Providence that men are most ready to raise objections, from the great- ness of God as contrasted with their own insignificance. They cannot believe that he who is so mighty as to rule the heaven- ly hosts can condescend to notice the wants of the meanest of his creatures; and thus they deny to him the combination of properties asserted in our text, that, whilst possessed of unlimited empire, he sus- tains the feeble and raises the prostrate. We shall not stay to expose the false- ness of an opinion which has sometimes found advocates, that, having created this world, God left it to itself, and be- stows no thought on its concerns. But whilst few would hold the opinion in the extent thus announced, many would limit the divine providence, and thus take from the doctrine its great beauty and comfort. It is easy and common to represent it as incompatible with the confessed grandeur of our Maker, that he should busy himself with the con- cerns of the poorest of his creatures : but Buch reasoning betrays ignorance as to what it is in which greatness consists. It may be that, amongst finite beings, it is not easy, and perhaps not possible, that attention to what is minute, or compara- tively unimportant, should be combined with attention to things of vast moment. But wc never reckon it an excellence that there is not, or cannot be, this union. On the contrary, we should declare that man at the very summit of true greatness, who proved himself able to unite what had seemed incompatible. If a man, for example, be a great statesman, and the management of a vast empire be de- livered into his hands, we can scarcely expect that, amid the multiplicity of mighty afTTairs which solicit his atterition, he should find time for the duties of more ordinary life. We feel that, engrossed with occupations of overwhelming im- portance, it is hardly possible that ho should be assiduous in the instruction of his children, or the inspection of his servants, or the visiting and relieving his distressed fellow-men. But we never feel that his greatness would be dimin- ished, if he were thus assiduous. We are ready, on the contrary, to admit that we should give him, in a higher degree than ever, our respect and admiration, if he knew that whilst he had his eye on every wheel in the machinery of government, and his comprehensive mind included all that had a bearing on the well-being of the empire, he discharged with exem- plary fidelity every relative duty, and entered with as much assiduousness into all that concerned his neighbors and de- pendents, as though he had not to ex- tend his carefulness over the thousand departments of a complicated system. What would be thought of that man's estimate of greatness, who should reckon it derogatory to the statesman that he thus combined attention to the incon- siderable with attention to the stupen- dous ; and who should count it inconsis- tent with the loftiness of his station, that, amid duties as arduous as faithfully discharged, he had an ear for the prattle of his children, and an eye for the inter- ests of the friendless, and a heart for the sufferines of the destitute'? Would there not be a feeling mountmg almost to veneration, towards the ruler who should prove himself equal to the super- intending every concern of an empire, and who could yet give a personal atten- tion to the wants of many of the poorest of its families ; and who, whilst gather- ing within the compass of an ample in- telligence every question of foreign and home policy, protecting the commerce, maintaining the honor, and fostering the institutions of the state, could minister tenderly at the bedside of sickness, and hearken patiently to the tale of calamity, and be as active for the widow and the orphan, as though his whole business were to lighten the pressure of domestic affliction 1 We can appeal, then, to your own notions of true greatness, for a refutation of the common arguments against the Providence of God. We know not why THE GREATNESS AND CONDESCENSION OP GOD. 141 that should he derogatory to the majesty of the Ruler of the universe, which, hy the general confession, would add iin- measurahly to the majesty of one of the earth's potentates. And if we should rise in our admiration and applause of a statesman, or sovereign, in proportion as he showed himself capable of attend- ing to things comparatively petty and insignificant, without neglecting the grand and momentous, certainly we are oound to apply the same principle to our Maker — to own it, that is, essential to his greatness, that, whilst marshalling planets and ordering the motions of all worlds throughout the sweep of immen- sity, he should yet feed " the young ravens that call upon him," and number the very hairs of our heads : essential, in short, that, whilst his kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and his dominion endureth throughout all generations, he should uphold all that fall, and raise up those that are bowed down. We would add to this, that objections against the doctrine of God's providence are virtually objections against the great truths of creation. Are we to suppose that this or that ephemeral thing, the tiny tenant of a leaf or a bubble, is too insignificant to be observed by God ; and that it is absurd to think that the animated point, whose existence is a second, occupies any portion of those inspections which have to spread them- selves over the revolutions of planets, and the movements of angels ] Then to what authorship are we to refer this ephemeral thing ? We subject it to the powers of the microscope, and are amaz- ed, perhaps, at observing its exquisite symmetries and adornmenst, with what skill it has been fashioned, with what glory it has been clothed : but we^ find it said that it is dishonoring to God to suppose him careful or observant of this insect ; and then our difficulty is, who made, who created this insect ] I know not what there can be too inconsiderable for the providence, if it have not been too inconsiderable for the creation, of God. What it was not unworthy of God to form, it cannot be unworthy of God to preserve. Why declare any thing excluded by its insignificance from his watchfulness, which could not have been produced but by his power ] Thus the universal Providence of God is little more than an inference from the truth of his being the universal Creator. And men may s[)eak of the littleness of this or that creatUTC, and ask how we can believe that the animalcule, scarce per- ceptible as it floats by us on the evening bieeze, is observed and cared for by that Being, inaccessible in his sublimity, who " sitteth upon the circle of the earth, and the inhabitants thereof are as grass- hoppers :" but we ask in reply, whether or no it be God who gave its substance and animation to this almost invisible atom ; and unless they can point out to us another creator, we shall hold that it must be every way worthy of God, that he should turn all the watchfulness of a guardian on the work of his own hands — for it cannot be more true, that, as uni- versal Creator, he has such power that his dominion endureth throughout all gene- rations, than that, as universal sustainer, he has such carefulness for whatever he hath formed, that he upholdeth them that fall, raiseth up all that are bowed down. But up to this point, we have been rather engaged with removing objections against the doctrine of God's providence, than with examining that doctririe, as it may be derived from our text. In re- gard to the doctrine itself, it is evident that nothing can happen in any spot of the universe which is not known to him who is emphatically the Omniscient. But it is far more than the inspection of an ever-vigilant obsen'er which God throws over the concerns of creation. It is not merely that nothing can occur without the knowledge of our Maker ; it is that nothing can occur, but by either his appointment or permission. We say either his appointment or permission — for we know, that, whilst he ordereth all things, both in heaven and earth, there is much which he allows to be done, but which cannot be referred di- rectly to his authorship. It is in this sense that his Providence has to do with what is evil, overruling it so that it be- comes subsei-vient to the march of his purposes. The power that is exerted over the waters of the ocean, is exerted also over the more boisterous waves of rebellion and crime ; and God saith to the one, as to the other, " hitherto shall ye come and no further." And as to actions and occurrences of an ojiposite description, such as are to be reckoneo good and not evil — can it be denied that I Providence extends to all these, and is 142 THE GREATNESS AND CONDESCENSION Ot" GOD. intimately concerned with their produc- tion and performance 1 It must ever be remembered that God is the first cause, and that upon the first all secondary de- pend. We are apt to forget this , though unquestionably a self-evident principle, and then we easily lose ourselves in a wide labyrinth, and are perplexed by the multiplicities of agency with whicli we seem surrounded. But how beautifully simple does eve- ry thing appear, when we trace one hand in all that occurs. And this we are bound to do, if we would allow its full range to the doctrine of God's provi- dence. It is God whose energies are extended through earth, and sea, and air, causing those unnumbered and benefi- cial results which we ascribe to nature. It is God by whom all those contin- gencies which seem to us fortuitous and casual are directed, so that events, brought I'ound by what men count ac- cident, proceed from divine, and there- fore irreversible appointment. It is God by whom the human will is secretly inclined towards righteousness ; and thus there is not wrought a single action such as God can approve, to whose perform- ance God hath not instigated. It is God from whom come those many inter- positions, which every one has to remark in the course of a long life, when dangers are averted, fears dispei-sed, and sorrows removed. It is God, who, acting through the instrumentality of various, and, to all appearance, conflicting causes, keeps together the discordant elements of so- ciety, and prevents the whole frame- work of civil institutions from being rapidly dislocated. It is God — but why attempt to enumerate ] Where is the creature which God does not sustain ? where is the solitude which God does not fill 1 whei-e is the want which God does not supply 1 where is the motion which God does not direct ? where is the action which God does not oven-ule 1 If, accordiijg to the words of the Psalmist, we could ascend up to heaven, and make our bed in hell ; if we could take the wings of the morning, and dwell in the uttermost parts of the sea : in all this enormous travel, in this journey across the fields of unlimited space, we could never roach the loneliest spot at which Deity was not present as an upholder and guardian ; never find the lonely world, lo, nor the lonely scene on any one of those globes vnth which immen- sity is strewed, which was not as stricly watched by the ever-wakeful eye of Om- niscience, as though every where else the universe were a void and this the alone home of life and intelligence. We have an assurance which nothing can shake, because derived from the confess- ed nature of Godhead, that, in all the greatness of his Almightiness, our Maker is perpetually passing from star to star, and from system to system, that he may observe what is needed by every order of being, and minister supply — and yet not passing ; for he is always present, present as much at one moment as at an- other, and in one world as in another immeasurably distant ; and covering with the wings of his providence what- ever he hath formed, and whatever he hath animated. And if we bring our thoughts within narrower compass, and confine them to the world appointed for men's dwelling, it is a beautiful truth that thei^e can- not be the creature so insignificant, the care so inconsiderable, the action so unim- portant, as to be overlooked by liim from whom we draw being. I know that it is not the monarch alone, at the head of his tribes and provinces, who is observed by the Almighty ; and that it is not only at some gi'eat crisis in life, that an indivi- dual becomes an object of the attention of his Maker. I know rather that the poorest, the meanest, the most despised, shares with the monarch the notice of the universal Protector; and that this notice is so unwearied and incessant, that when he goes to his daily toil or his daily prayer, when he lies down at night, or rises in the morning, or gathers his little ones to the scanty meal, the poor man is tendei'- ly watched by his God ; and he cannot weep the tear which God sees not, noi smile the smile which God notes not, noi breathe the wish which God hears not. The man indeed of exalted rank, on Avhommay depend the movements of an empire, is regarded, with a vigilance which never knows suspense, by Him " who giveth salvation unto kings ; " and the Lord, " to whom belong the shields of the earth," bestows on this man what- ever wisdom he displays, and whatever strength he puts foi-th, and whatever suc- cess he attains. But the carefulness of Deity is in no sense engrossed by the distinguished individual ; but, just a3 the THE GREATNESS AND CONDESCENSION OP GOD. 143 Tcards which are turned on this earth inlcilerc not with those which pour themselves over far-off planets and dis- tant systems, so, whilst the chieftain is observed and attended with the assidu- ousness of what might seem an undivi- ded guardiaTiship, the very beggar is as much the object of divine inspection and Buccor, as though, in the broad sweep of animated being, there were no other to need the sustaining arm of the Creator. And this is what we understand by the providence of the Almighty. We be- lieve of this providence that it extends itself to every household, and throws it- self round every individual, and takes part in every business, and is concerned with every sorrow, and accessory to every joy. We believe that it encir- cles equally the palace and the cottage ; guiding and upholding alike the poor and the rich ; ministering to the king in his councils, and to the merchant in his commerce, and to the scholar in his study, and to the laborer in his husbandry — so that, whatever my rank and occupation, at no moment am I withdrawn from the eye of Deity, in no lawful endeavor am I left to myself, in no secret anxiety have J only my own heart with which I may commune. Oh ! it were to take from God all that is most encouraging in his attributes and prerogatives, if you could throw doubt on this doctrine of his univer- sal providence. It is an august contem- plation, that of the Almighty as the ar- chitect of creation, filling the vast void with magnificent structures. We are presently confounded when bidden to meditate on the eternity of the Most High : for it is an overwhelming truth, that he who gave beginning to all besides could have had no beginniner himself And there are other characteristics and properties of Deity, whose very mention excites awe, and on which the best elo- quence is silence. But whilst the uni- versal providence of God is to the full as incomprehensible as aught else which appertains to Divinity, there is nothing in it but what commends itself to the warmest feeling of our nature. And we seem to have drawn a picture which is calculated equally to raise astonish- ment and delight, to produce the deep- est reverence and yet fullest confidence, when we have i-epresented God as super- intending whatever occurs in his infinite domain — guiding the roll of every planet, and the rush of every cataract, and the gathering of every cloud, and the motion of every will — and when, in order that the delineation may have all that cxqiiis- iteness which is only to be obtained from those home touches which assure us that we have ourselves an interest in what is so splendid and surprising, we add, that he is with the sick man on his pallet, and with the seaman in his danger, and with the widow in her agony. And what, after all, is this combination but that pre- sented by our text? If I would exhibit God as so attending to what is mighty as not to overlook what is mean, what bet- ter can I do than declare him mustering around him the vast army of suns and constellations, and all the while hearken- ing to every cry which goes up from an afilicted creation — and is not this the very picture sketched by the jisalmist, when, after the sublime ascription, " thy kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and thy dominion endureth throughout all ge- nerations," he adds the comforting words, " the Lord upholdeth all that fall, and lift- up all those that be bowed down ? " We have only to add, that the doc- trine of a particular and universal Pro- vidence, on which we have insisted, is strictly derivable from the very nature of God. We are so accustomed to reck- on one thing great and another small, that when we ascend to contemplations of Deity, we are apt to forget that there is not to him that graduated scale which there must be to ourselves. It is to bring down God to the feebleness of our own estate, to suppose that what is great to us must be great to him, and that what is small to us must be small to him. I know and am persuaded, that dwelling as God does in inaccessible splendors, a world is to him an atom, and an atom is to him a world. He can know nothing of the human distinctions between great and small — so that he is dishonored, not when all things are reckoned as alike subject to his inspec- tions, but when some things are deemed important enough, and others too insig- nificant, to come within the notice of his providence. If he concern himself with the fate of an empire, but not with the fall of a sparrow, he must be a being scarce removed from equality with our- selves ; for, if he have precisely the same scale by which to estimate import- ance, the range of his intelligence can 144 THE GREATNESS AND CONDESCENSION OF GOD. be little wider than that of our own. God is that mysterious being, to whom the only great thing is himself. And, therefore, when " the eyes of all wait upon " him, the seraph gains not atten- tion by his gaze of fire, and the insect loses it not through feebleness of vision — Archangel, and angel, and man, and beast, and fowl of the air, and fish of the sea, all draw equally the regards of him, who, counting nothing groat but himself the Creator, can pass over, as small, no fraction of the creature. It is thus vir- tually the property of God, that he should care for every thing, and sustain every thing ; so that we should never behold a blade of grass springing up from the earth, nor hear a bird warble its wild music, nor see an infant slum- ber on its mother's breast, without a warm memory that it is through God, as a God of providence, that the fields are enamelled in due season, that every animated tribe receives its sustenance, and that the successive generations of mankind arise, and flourish, and possess the earth. And never should we think of joy or sorrow, of things prosperous or adverse, of health or sickness, life or death, without devoutly believing that the times of every man are in the Al- mighty's hands ; that nothing happens but through the ordinance or permission of God ; and that the very same Prov- idence which guides the marchings of stars, and regulates the convulsions of empires, is lending at the couch of the afflicted, curtaining the sleep, and watch- ing the toil, of the earth's remotest families. We can only desire and pray, in con- clusion, that this great truth might es- tablish itself in all our hearts. Then would all undue anxieties be dismissed, our plans be those of jirudence, our en- ergies be rightly directed and strenu- ously employed, disappointments would be avoided, and hope would never make ashamed ; for we should leave every thing, small as well as great, in the hands of Him who cannot be pcrj)lexed by multiplicity, nor overpowered by magnitude ; and the result would be that we should enjoy a serenity, no more to be broken by those little cares which perpetually wrinkle the surface, than by those fierce storms which threaten the complete shipwreck f)f peace. And forasmuch as we have spoken of Redemption as well as of Providence, and are now telling you of security and serenity, suffer that we remind you of the simile by which St. Paul has repre- sented christian hope : " Which hope we have as an anchor of the soul, both sure and steadfast, and which entereth into that within the vail." The anchor is cast " within the vail," whither Christ the forerunner is gone before. -/ .id if hope be fixed upon Christ, the Rock of Ages, a rock rent, if we may use the ex- pression, on purpose that there might be a holding-place for the anchors of a per- ishing world, it may well come to pass that we enjoy a calm, as we journey through life, and draw near the grave. But since " other foundation can no man lay than that is laid," if our anchor rest not on this Rock, where is our hope, where our peacefulness ? I know of a coming tempest — and would to God that the younger part, more especially, of this audience, might be stirred by its appi'oach to repentance and righteous- ness ! I know of a coming tempest, with which the Almighty shall shake terribly the earth ; the sea and the waves roaring, and the stars falling fi'om the heavens. Then shall there be a thou- sand shipwrecks, and immensity be strewed with the fragments of a strand- ed navy. Then shall vessel upon ves- sel, laden with reason, and high intelli- gence, and noble faculty, be drifted to and fro, shattered and dismantled, and at last thrown on the shore as fuel for the burning. But there are ships which shall not founder in this battle and dis- solution of the elements. There are ships which shall be in no peril whilst this, the last hurricane which is to sweep our creation, confounds earth, and sea, and sky; but which — when the fury is overpast and the light of a morning which is to know no night, breaks glori- ously forth — shall be found upon crystal and tranquil waters, resting beautifully on their shadows. These are those which have been anchored upon Christ. These are those — and may none refuse to join the number — who have trusted themselves to the Mediator, who hum- bled himself that he might lift up all those that are bowed down ; and who have therefore interest in every ])rom- ise made by Him, whose kingdom is an everlasting kingdom, and whose domin- ion endurclh throughout all generations. THE TERMINATION OP THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM. 145 SERMON II. THE TERMINATION OF THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM. * And when all things shall be subdued unto Him, then shall the Son also himself be subject unto bim that put all things under him, that God may be all in all." — 1 Cokinthians, XV. 28. In our last discourse we spoke of an everlasting kingdom, and of a dominion which endureth throughout all genera- tions. It will be of a kingdom which must terminate, though it appertain to a di- vine person, that we shall have to speak in expounding the words of our text. There are two great truths presented by this verse and its context, each de- serving attentive examination — the one, that Christ is now vested with a kingly aujjwjcijty which he must hereafter re- sign ; the other, that, as a consequence on this resignation, God h imself will be- come all in all to the universe. We pro^ceed at once to the consideration of these truths ; and begin by observing the importance of carefully distinguish- ing between what the Scriptures affirm of the attrijpu tes. and what of the .offi- c_es, of tTTe'p'iSi'sons in the Trinity. Tn regard of the attributes, you will find that the employed language marks per- fect equality ; the Father, Son, and Spir- itTTieing alike spoken of as Eternal, Omniscient, Omnipotent, Omnipresent. But in regard of the offi ces, there can be no dispute that the language indicates in equalit y, and that both the Son and Spirit are represented as inferior to the Father. This may readily be accounted for from the nature of the plan of re- demption. This plan demanded that the Son should Immblc himself, and assume our nature ; ancl that the S^rit should condescend to be sent as a xeD,QV§ii"g agent ; whilst the Fathe r was to remain in the sublimity an^ happiness of God- head. And if such plan were under- taken and carried through, it seems una- voidable, that in speaking of its several parts, the Son and the Spirit should be occasionally described as inferior to the Father. The offices being subordinate, the holders of those offices, though naturally equal, must sometimes be ex- hibited as though one were superior to the others. At one time they may be spoken of with reference to their attri- butes, and then the language will mark perfect equality ; at another, with re- ference to their offices, and then it will indicate a relative inferiority. And it is only by thus distinguishing between the attributes and the offices, that we can satisfactorily explain our text and its context. The apostle expressly declares of Christ, that he is to deliver up his kingdom to the Father, and to become himself s ubje ct to the Father. And the question naturally proposes itself, how are statements such as these to be reconciled with other portions of scripture, which speak of Christ as an everlasting King, and declare his domin- ion to be that which shall not be desti'oy- ed 1 There is no difficulty in reconciling these apparently conflicting assertions, if we consider Christ as spoken of in the one case as God, in the other as Media- tor. If we believe him to be God, we Kribw that he must be, in the largest sense. Sovereign of the universe, and that he can no more give up his domin- ion than change his nature. And then if we regard him as undertaking the office of Mediator between God and man, we must admit the likelihood that he would be invested, as holding this office, with an authority not necessarily perma- nent, which would last indeed as long as the office, but cease if there ever came 19 146 THE TERMINATION OF THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM, a period when the office would itself be abolished. So that there is no cause for surprise, nothing which should go to the persuading us that Christ is not God, if we find the Son described as Bunendcring his kingdom : we have only to suppose him then spoken of as Media- tor, and to examine whether there be not a mediatorial kingdom, which, com- mitted to Christ, has at length to be re- signed. And you cannot be acquainted with the scheme of our Redemjition, and not i know that the office of Mediat or war- rants our supposing a kingdom which will be finally surrendered. The grand design of Redemption has all along been the exterminating evil from the universe, and the restoring harmony throughout God's disorganized empire. We know that God made every thing good, and that the creation, whether animate or inanimate, as it rose from his hands, pi-esented no trace of imperfection or pollution. But evil mysteriously gained entrance, and, originating in heaven, spread rapidly to earth. And hence- forwards it was the main purpose of the Almighty to counteract evil, to obliterate the stains from his w<;rkmanship, and to reinstate and confirm the universe in its original purity. To effect this purpose, his own Son, equal to himself in all the attributes of Godhead, undertook to as- sume human nature; and to accomplish, in working out the reconciliation of an alienated tribe, results which should ex- tend themselves to every department of creation. He was not indeed fuHy and visibly invested with the kihgly office, until after his death and resurrection ; for then it was that lie cleclared to his dis- ciples, " all power is given unto me in heaven and earth." Nevertheless the Me- diatorial Kingdom had commenced with the commencement of human guilt and misery. For, so soon as man rebelled, Cliristinteifcred on his behalf, and as- BumeTI tlie office of his surety and deliv- erer. He undertook the combat with the powers of evil, and fought his first battle. And afterwards all God's inter- course with the world was can-ied on through the Mediator — Christ appeai-intr in h uman form to patriarchs and saints, and superiiitendiug the concerns of our race with distinct reference to the good of his church. But when, through death, he had de- stroyed " him that had the power of deatii, " the Mediator became emphati- cjilj^a kjiig . He " ascended up oti high, and led captivit^^cajitiye," in that very nature in wnicTTlieTiad" borne our griefs and carried our sorrows." He sat down at the right hand of God the very person that had been made a curse for us ; and there was " given him a name which is above every name, that at the name of Jesus every knee should bow, of things in heaven, and things on earth, and things under the earth." And ever since he hath been " head over all things to th e church ;" and God has so dclega- ted his power to the Mediator, that this Mediator has " the kej^ of hell and of death," and so rules Tiuinan affairs as to make way for a grand consummation which creation yet expects. It is cer- tainly the representation of Scripture, that Christ has been exalted to a throne, in recompense of his humiliation and suffering; and that, seated on this throne, he governs all things in heaven and earth. And we call this throne the me- diatorial throne, because it was only aa Mediator that Christ could be exalted because, possessing essentially all power as God, it could only be as God-man that he was vested with dominion. " He must reign," saith St. Paul, " until he hath put nil finen^g s under his feet." The great object toFwhich the kingdom has been erected, is, that he who occu- pies the throne may subdue those princi- palities and powers which have set them- selves against the government of God. Already have vast advances been made to- wards the subjugation. But the kingdoms of the world have not yet become the kingdoms of our Lord and his Christ. Sin still reigns, and death still reigns, and only an inconsiderable fraction of the hu- man population bow to the sceptre of Je- sus. But we are taught to expect a tho- rough and stupendous chaiige. We know from prophecy that a time apjiroaches when the whole world shall be evcingoliz- ed ; when there shall not be the tnljo, no, nor the in dividu al upon earth, wholails to love and reverence the Mediator. Christ hath yet to set up his kingdom on the wreck of all human sovereignty, and so to display himself that he shall be uni- versally adored as " King of kings and Lord of lords." And when this noble result is brought round, and the whole globe mantled with THE TERMINATION OF THE MEDIAT'ORIAL KINGDOM. 147 righteousness, there will yet remain much to be done ere the mediatorial work IS complete. The throne must set for judgment ; the ena( tments of a retribu- tive economy take eflect ; the dead be r aised , and all men receive the things done in the body. Then will evil be finally expelled from the universe, and G(jd may again look forth on his unlim- ited empire, and declare it not defiled by a solitary stain. Then will be " the restitutio n of all things." Then will it be~evid"ent that the power committed to Christ has accomplished the great ends for which it was entrusted, the overthrow of Satan, the destruction of death, and the extirpation of unrighteousness. And if it be the declaration of Scripture that the Mediator shall thus at length master evil under its every form, and in its every consequence, will not this Mediator final- ly prove himself a king — demonstrating not only the possession of sovereignty, but the employment of it to those illus- trious purposes which were proposed by God from the foundation of the world 1 Yes, we can say with St. Paul, " we see not yet all things put under him." But we see enough to assure us that " him hath God excited as a Prince and a Savior." We see enough, and we know enough, to be persuaded, that there is kingdom \vithin kingdom ; and that, whilst God is still the universal Monarch, the Omnipo- tent who " telleth the number of the stars," and without whom not even a sparrow falls, the Mediator superintends and regulates the affairs of his church, and orders, with absolute sway, whatever respects the final establishment of right- eousness through creation. And there- fore are we also persuaded, on the tes- timony which cannot deceive, that this Mediator shall reign till he hath brought into subjection every adversary of God; and that at last — death itself being swal- lowed up in victory — the universe, purg- ed from all pollution, and glowing with a richer than its pristine beauty, shall be the evidence that there hath indeed been a mediatorial kingdom, and that nothing could withstand the Mediator's sovereignty. Now it has been our object, up to this point of our discourse, to prove to you, on scriptural authority, that the Mediator is a king, and that Christ, as God-man, is invested with a dominion not to be confounded with that which belongs to him as God. You are now therefore prepared for the question, whether Christ have not a kingdom which must be ultimately resigned. Wo think it evident that, as Mediator, Christ has certain functions to discharge, which,, from their very nature, cannot be eter- nal. When the last of God's elect fam- ily shall have been gathered in, there will be none to need the blood of sprink- ling, none to require the intercession of '* an advocate with the Father." And when the last enemy, which is death, shall have been destroyed, that great purpose of the Almighty — the conquest of Satan, and the extirpation of evil, will be accomplished ; so that there will be no more battles for the Mediator to fight, no more adversaries to subdue. And thus, if we have rightly described the mediatorial kingdom, there is to come a time when it will be no long er necessa ry ; when, every object for which it was erected having been fully and finally at- tained, and no possibility existing that evil may re-enter the universe, this king- dom may be expected to cease. And this is the great consummation which we are taught by our text and its context to expect. We may not be able to explain its details, but the out- lines are sketched with boldness and precision. There has been committed to Christ not as God, but as God-man, a kingdom which, though small in its be- ginning, shall at length supersede every other. The designs proposed in the erection of this kingdom, are the; salva- tion of man and the glory of God, in >e thorough extirpation of evil from tb^ universe. These designs will be fully accomplished at the general judgment ; and then, the ends for which the king- dom was erected having been answered, the kingdom itself is to terminate. Then shall the Son of Man, having " put down all rule and all authority and power," lay as ide the sceptre of majesty, and take o penly a place subo rdinatg to Deity. Then shall all that' sovereignty which, for magnificent but temporary purposes, has been wielded by and through the humanity of Christ, pass again to the Godhead whence it was derived. Then shall the Creator, acting no longer through the instrumentality of a media- tor, assume visibly, amid the worship- pings of the whole intelligent creation, the dominion over his infinite and novf 118 THE TERMINATION OF THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM. purified empire, and administer its every concern without the intervention of one " found in fashion as a man." And then, though as head of his church, Christ, in human nature, may always retain a special power over his people, and though, as essentially divine, he must at all times be equally the omnipotent, there will necessarily be such a change in the visible government of the universe, that the Son shall seem to surrender all kingly authority; to descend from his throne, having made his enemies his footstool, and take his station amongst those who obey rather than rule ; and thus shall be brought to pass the saying that is written, " the Son also himself shall be subject unto him that put all things under him ;" and God, the Father, Son and Holy Ghost, ^* God shall hence- forwards be all in all." Now it is upon this latter expression, indicative as it is of what we may call the universal diffusion of Deity, that we design to employ" the remainder of our time. We wish to examine into the truths involved in the assertion, that God is to be finally all in all. It is an asser- tion which, the more it is pondered, the more august and comprehensive will it appear. You may remember that the same expression is used of Christ in the Epistle to the Colossians — " Christ is all and in all." There is no disagree- ment between the assertions. In the Epistle to the Colossians St. Paul speaks of what takes place under the mediato- rial kingdom ; whereas in that to the Corinthians, he describes what will oc- cur when that kingdom shall have termi- nated. At present, whatever in the di- vine govenment has reference to this earth and its inhabitants, is not transact- ed immediately by God, but mediately through an Intercessor, so that Christ is all in all. But hereafter, the mediatorial office finally ceasing, the administration, we are assured, will be immediately with God, and therefiirc will God be all in all. We learn then from the expression in question, however unable we may be to explain the amazing transition, that there is to be a removal of the apparatus constructed for allowing us communi- cations with Godlicad ; and that we shall not need those offices of an Intercessor, without which there could now be no ac- cess to our Maker. There is something ve- ry grand and animating in this announce- ment. If we were unfallen creatures, we should need no Mediator. Wemight, as did Adam, approach at once the Crea- tor, and, though awed by his majesty, have no fears as to our reception, and ex- perience no repulse. And therefore, whilst we heartily thank God lor the unspeakable gift of his Son, we cannot but feel, that, so long as we have no ac- cess to him except through a Mediator, we have not altogether recovered our forfeited privileges. The mediatorial office, independently on which we must have been everlastingly outcasts, is evi- dence, throughout the whole of its con- tinuance, that the human race does not yet occupy the place whence it fell. But with the termination of this office shall be the admission of man into all the privileges of direct access to his Maker. Then shall he see face to face ; then shall he know even as also ho is known. There ai-e yet, and there must be, whilst God's dealings with humanity are car- ried on through a Mediator, separating distances between our race and the Creator, which exist not in regard of other orders of being. But the descent of the Son from the throne, to which he was exalted in recompense of his suffer- ings, shall be the unfolding to man the presence-chamber in which Deity un- veils his cfl'ulgence. In ceasing to have a Mediator, the last barrier is taken down ; and man, who had thrown him- self to an unmeasured distance from God, passes into those direct associations with Him " that inhabiteth eternity," which can be granted to none but those who never fell, or who, having fallen, have been recovered from every consequence of apostacy. And therefore, it is not that we depre- ciate, or undervalue, the blessedness of that condition in which Christ is all in all to his church. We cannot compute tliis blessedness, and we feel that the best praises fall far short of its deserts ; and yet we can believe of this blessedness, that it is only preparatory to a lichcr and a higher. Whilst overwhelmed with the consciousness that I owe every thing to a Mediator, I can yet feel that this Mediator must lay aside his office as no longer necessary, ere I can stand in that relationship to Deity, and possess that freedom of approach, which belong to the loftiest and holiest in creation. THE TERMINATION OF THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM. 149 To tell me that I should need a Media- tor through eternity, were to tell me that I sliould be in danger of death, and at a distance from God. And, therefitre, in informing me of the extinction of that sovereignty by which alone I can be res- cued, you inform me of the restoration of all which Adam lost, and of the pla- cing humankind on equality with angels. It is not then, we a^ain say, that we are insensible to benefits, overpassing all thought, which we derive from the me- diatorial kingdom ; it is only because we know that this kingdom is but introduc- tory to another, and that the perfection of happiness must require our admission into direct intercourse with our Maker — it is only on these accounts that we anticipate with delight the giving up of the kinordom to the Father, and associ- ate whatever is most gladdening and glorious with the truth, that God, rather than Christ, shall be all in all through eternity. But there are other thoughts suggested by the fact, that God himself shall be all in all. We have hitherto considered the expression as simply denoting that men will no longer approach God through a Mediator, and that their hap- piness will be vastly augmented by their obtaining the privilege of direct access. There is, however, no reason for suppos- ing that the human race alone will be affected by the resignation of the media- torial kingdom. AVe may not believe that it is only over ourselves that Christ Jesus has been invested with sovereign- ty. It would rather appear, since all power has been given him in heaven and earth, that the mediatorial kingdom embraces different worlds, and difl'erent orders of intelligence ; and that the chief affairs of the universe are administered by Christ in his glorified humanity. It is therefore possible that even unto an- gels the Godhead does not now imme- diately manil"est itself; but that these glorious creatures are governed, like ourselves, through the instrumentality of the Mediator. Hence it will be a great transition to the whole intelligent creation, and not merely to an inconsid- erable fraction, when the Son shall give up the kingdom to the Father. It will be the visible enthronement of Deity. The Creator will come forth from his Bublime solitude, and assume the sceptre of his boundless empire. It will be a new and overwhelming manifestation of Divinity — another fold of the veil, wliich must always hang between the created and the uncreated, will have been re- moved ; and the thousand times ten thousand sj)irits which throng immensity, shall behold with a clear vision, and know with an ampler knowledge, the Eternal One at whose word they rose into being. And it is not, we think, possible to give a finer description of universal harmony and happiness, than is contained in the sentence, " God all in all," when suppos- ed to have reference to every rank in creation. Let us consider for a moment what the sentence implies. It implies that there shall be but one mind, and that the Divine mind, throughout the uni- verse. Every creature shall be so actuat- ed by Deity, that the Creator shall have only to will, and the whole mass of intel- ligent being will be conscious of the same wish, and the same purpose. It is not merely that every creature will be under the government of the Creator, as a subject is under that of his prince. It is not merely that to every command of Deity there will be yielded an instant and cheerful obedience, in every depart- ment, and by every inhabitant of the uni- verse. It is more than all this. It is that there shall be such fibres of associa- tion between the Creator and the crea- tures — God shall be so wound up, if the expression be lawful, with all intelligent bein.o- — that every other will shall move simultaneously with tlie divine, and the resolve of Deity be instantly felt as one ralcrhty impulse pervading the vast ex- pansion of mind. God all in all — it is that from the highest order to the lf)west, archangel, and angel, and man, and prin- cipality, and power, there shall be but one desire, one object ; so that to every motion of the eternal Spirit there will be a corresponding in each element of the intellectual creation, as though there were throughout but one soul, one ani- mating, actuating, energizing principle. God all in all. I know not how to de- scribe the harmony which the expression seems to indicate. This gathering of the Creator into every creature ; this mak- ing each mind in the world of spirit a sort of centre of Deity, from which flow the high decisions of divine sovereignty, so that, in all its amplitude, the intellec- tual creation seems to witness that Gcd 150 THE TERMINATION OF THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM. is equally every where, and serves as one grand instrument which, at every j)oint and in every spring, is instinct with the very thought of Iliin who " ordereth all things in heaven and earth " — oh, this im- measurably transcends the mere reduc- tion of all systems, and all beings, into a delighted and uniform obedience. This is making God more than the universal Ruler : it is making him the univci'sal Actuator. And you might tell me of tribe ujjon tribe of magnificent crea- tures, waiting to execute the command- ments of God; you might delineate the very tenant of every spot in immensity, bowing to one sceptre, and burning with one desire, and living for one end — but in- deed the most labored and high-wrought description of the universal prevalence of concord, yields unspeakably to the sim- ple announcement, that there shall be but one spirit, one pulse, through crea- tion ; and thought itself is distanced, when we hear, that after the Son shall have surrendered his kingdom to the Fa- ther, God himself shall be all in all to the universe. But if the expression mark the harmo- ny, it marks also the Imppiness of eternity. It is undeniable, that, even whilst on earth, we find things more beautiful and precious in pi'oportion as we are accus- tomed to find God in them, to view them as gifts, and to love them for the sake of the giver. It is not the poet, nor the naturalist, who has the richest enjoyment when surveying the landscajie, or trac- ing the manifestations of creative power and contrivance. It is the christian, who recognizes a Father's hand in the glo- rious development of mountain and val- ley, and discovers the loving-kindness of an ever-watcliful guardian in each exam- ple of the adaptation of the earth to its inhabitants. No man has such pleasure in any of those objects which answer to the various affections of his nature, as the man who is accustomed to the seeing God in them. And then only is the creature loved, not merely with a lawful, but with an elevated and ennobling love, ■when regarded as bestowed on us by the Creator, and wearing the impress of the benevolence of Deity. What will it be when God shall be literally all in all 1 It were little to tell us, that, admitt(ul into the heavenly Je- rusalem, we should worship in a temple magnificent in architecture, and bow down at a shrine, whence flashed the ef- fulgence and issued the voice of Jeho- vah. The mifrhtv and overwhelminn: thing is, that, according to the vision of St. John, there shall bo no temple there ; but that so actually shall God be all, that Deity itself will be (jur sanctuary, and our adorations be rendered in the sublime recesses of the Omnipotent him- self. It were little to assure us that the everlasting dwelling-place of the saints shall be irradiated by luminanes a thou- sand-fold more splendid and gorgeous than walk the finnament of a fallen crea- tion. The animated intelligence is, that theie shall be " no need of the sun, nei- ther of the moon ; " that God shall be all, and the shinings of Divinity light up the scenery over which we shall expatiate. And if we think on future intercourse Avith beings of our own race, or of lof- tier ranks, then only are the anticipa- tions rapturous and inspiriting, when Deity seems blended with every associ- ation. I know how frequently, when death has made an inroad on a house- hold, the thoughts of survivors follow the buried one into the invisible state ; and with what fervency and fondness they dwell on re-union in a world where part- ings are unknown. And never let a syl- lable be breathed which would throw suspicion on a tenet commending itself so exquisitely to the best sympathies of our nature, or take away from mourners tho consolatory belief, that in the land of the promised inheritance, the parent shall know the child whom he followed heart-broken to the grave, and the child the parent who left him in all the lone- liness of orphanage, and the husband the wife, or the wife the husband, whose removal threw a l)light on all the happi- ness of home. But how can it come to pass that there will be any thing like the renewal of human associations, and yet futui'e happiness be of that exalted and unearthly character, which has nothing common with the contracted feelings here engaged by a solitary family 1 We reply at once that God is to be all in all. The child may be again loved and cm- braced. But the emotions will have none of that selfishness into which the purest and deepest of our feelings may now bo too much resolved : it will be God that the child loves in the parent, and it will be God that the parent loves in the child ; and the gladness with which the heart of THE TERMINATION OF THE MEDIATORIAL KINGDOM. 151 each swells, as they recognize one the other in the celestial city, will be a glad- ness of which Deity is the sjiring, a glad- ness of which Deity is the object. Thus shall it be also in regard of every element which can be supposed to enter into future happiness. It is certain, that, if God be all in all, there will be excited in us no wish which we shall be required to repress, none which shall not be grat- ified so soon as formed. Having God in ourselves, we shall have capacities of en- joyment immeasurably larger than at pre- sent ; having God in all around us, we shall find every where material of enjoy- ment commensui'ate with our amplified powers. Let us put from us confused and indeterminate notions of happiness, and the simple description, thatGod shall be all in all, sets before us the vcwy per- fection of felicity. The only sound de- finition of happiness is that every faculty has its proper object. And we believe" of man, that God endowed him with va- rious capacities, intending to be himself their supply. Man indeed revolted from God, and has ever since endeavored, though ever disappointed, to fill his ca- pacities with other objects than God. But may not God hereafter, having rec- tified the disorders of humanity, be him- self the object of our every faculty ? I know not why we may not suppose that not only the works of God, which now manifest his qualities, but the qualities themselves, as they sub- sist without, measure in the ever-living Creator, will become the immediate ob- jects of contemplation. " What an ob- ject," says Bishop Butler, " is the uni- verse to a creature, if there be a creature who can comprehend its system. But it must 1)0 an infinitely higher exercise of the understanding, to view the scheme of it in that mind which projected it, before its foundations were laid. And surely we liave meaning to the words when we speak of going further, and viewing, not only this system in his mind, but the very wisdom, intelligence, and power from which it proceeded." And yet more, as the pielate goes on to argue. Wisdom, intelligence, and power, are not God, though God is an infinitely wise being, and intelligent, and powerful. So that to contemplate the effects of wisdom must be an inferior thing to the contem- plating wisdom in itself — for the cause must be always a higher object to the mind than the cflfect — and the cont^em- plating wisdom in itself must be an in- feri(jr thing to the contemplatinsx the divine nature ; for wisdom is but an at- tribute of the nature, and not the nature itself. Thus, at present, we make little or no approach towards knowing (iod as he is, because God hath not yet made himself all in all to his creatures. But let there once come this universal diffusion of Deity, and we may find in God himself the objects which answer to our matured and spiritualized faculties. We profess not to be competent to the understand- ing the mysterious change which is thus indicated as passing on the universe. But we can perceive it to be a change which shall be full of glory, full of hap- piness. We shall be as sensible of the presence of God, as we now are of the presence of a friend, when he is stand- ing by us, and conversing with us. "And what will be the joy of heart which his presence will inspii-e good men with, when they shall have a sensation that he is the sustainer of their being, that they exist in him ; when they shall feel his influence cheering, and enlivening, and supporting their frame, in a manner of which we have now no conception 1" Ho will be, in a literal sense, their strength and their portion for ever. Thus we look forward to the termina- tion of the mediatorial kingdom, as the event with which stands associated our reaching the summit of our felicity. There is then to be a removal of all that is now intermediate in our communica- tions with Deity, and the substitution of God himself for the objects which he has now adapted to the giving us delight. God himself will be an object to our faculties ; God himself will be our hap- piness. And as we travel from one spcjt to another of the universe, and enter into companionship with different sec- tions of its 7-ejoicing population, every where we shall carry Deity with us, and every where find Deity — not as now, when faith must all along do battle with sense, but in manifestations so im- mediate, so direct, so adapted to our faculties of perception, that we shall literally see God, and be in contact with God ; and oh, then, if thought recur to the days of probation, when all that con- cerns us was administered through a Mediator, we shall leel that whatever is 152 THE ADVANTAGES RESULTING FROM most illustrious in dignity, whatever mosti'apturous in enjoyment, was prom- ised in the prophetic announcement, that, when the Son shall have delivered up the kingdom to the Father, God himself shall be all in all. We can only add that it becomes us to examine whether we are now subjects of tlip mediatorial kingdom, or whether wo are of those who will not that Christ should reign over them. If God is hereafter to be all in all, it behovea us to inquire what he is to us now 1 Can we say with the Psalmist, " whom have I in heaven but thee, and there is none upon earth that I desire in comj)arison of thee V How vain must be our hope of entering into heaven, if we have no present delight in what are said to be its joys. A christian finds his happiness in holiness. And therefore, when he looks forward to heaven, it is the holi- ness of the scene, and association, on which he fastens as affording the happi- ness. He is not in love with an Arca- dian paradise, with the green pastures, and the flowing waters, and the minstrel- sy of many harpers. He is not dream- ing of a bright island, where he shall meet buried kinsfolk, and renewing do- mestic charities, live human life again in all but its cares, and tears, and partings. " Be ye holy, for I am holy " — this is the precept, attempted conformity to which is the business of a christian's life, perfect conformity to which shall be the blessedness of heaven. Let us there- fore take heed that we deceive not our- selves. The apostle speaks of " tasting the powers of the world to come," as though heaven were to begin on this side the grave. We may be enamored of heaven, because we think that " there the wicked cease from troubling, and the weary are at rest." We may be en- chanted with the poetry of its descrip- tions, and fascinated by the brilliancy of its colorings, as the Evangelist John re- lates his visions, and sketches the scene- ry on which he was privileged to gaze. Bnt all this does not prove us on the high road to heaven. Again we say, that, if it be heaven towards which we journey, it will be holiness in which we delight : for if we cannot now rejoice in having God for our portion, where is our meet- ness for a world in which God is to be all in all for ever and for ever ] SERMON III. THE ADVANTAGES RESULTING FROM THE POSSESSION OF THE SCRIPTURES* " What advantage tlicn hath tlic Jew ? or what profit is there of circumcision ? Much every way; chiefly bccauw that unto them wgre committed the oracles of God." — Romans ui. 1, 2. We think it unnecessary either to ex- amine the general argument with which St. Paul was engaged when he penned these words, or to interpret the passage • A collection was msido after this Sermon in tapport of tl(3 01(1 Charity Schools. with reference to the Jew rather than to ourselves. It is quite evident that the force of the verses is independent on the general argument, and must have been increased rather than diminished, as ad- ditions were made to the amount of Revelation. It was objected to the THE POSSESSION OP THE SCRIPTURES. 153 apostle that he represented Jew and Gentile as all along on the same level ; but he felt that the objection was re- moved by reminding his opponent that the Jew had, and the Gentile had not, the sacred Scriptures. He reckoned it sufficient proof that an unmeasured ad- vantage had lain with the chosen pcoj)le, that " unto them had been committed the oracles of God." This is a high testimony to the worth of the Bible, and deserves to be exam- ined with the greatest attention. Of course, if the possession of but a few inspired writings gave the Jew a vast superiority over the Gentile, the posses- sion of a volume, containing the whole of revelation, must be attended with yet greater privileges. It should, howevei', be observed, that the apostle seems to refer to more than the mere possession of the Bible; the expression which he employs marks out the Jews as the de- positoiy of revelation. " Chiefly be- cause that unto them were committed, or intrusted, the oracles of God." There may be here an intimation, that those who have the Bible are to be I'egarded as stewards, just as are those who have large earthly possessions. If this be cor- rect, there are two points of view under which it will be our business to endeavor to set before you the advantageousness of possessing God's oracles. We must show that the Bible is profitable to a nation, in the first place, because that nation may be improved by its contents ; in the second place, because that nation may impart them to others. Now it may appear so trite and ac- knowledged a truth, that a people is advantaged by possessing the Bible, that it were but wasting time to spend much on its exhibition. We are not, however, prepared to admit that the worth of the Bible is generally allowed, or adequately estimated ; so that, even before such an audience as the present, we would enlarge on the advantages which result to a nation from possessing God's oracles. We take at first the lowest ground ; for many who acknowledge gratefully the worth of Holy Writ, when man is viewed relatively to an after state of being, seem little conscious of the bless- ings derived from it, when he is regard- ed merely in reference to this earth. It were no over-bold opinion, that, if the Bible were not the word of God, and could be proved to be not the word of God, it w(juid nevertheless be the most precious of books, and do immcasuraV)ly more for a land, than the finest produc- tions of literature and philosophy. We always recur with great delight to the testimony of a deist, who, after ])ublicly laboring to disprove Christianity, and to bring Scriptuie into contempt as a for- gery, was found instructing his child from the pages of the New Testament. When taxed with the flagrant inconsistency, his only reply was, that it was ne- cessary to teach the child morality, and that nowhere was there to be found such morality as in the Bible. We thank the deist for the confession. Whatever our scorn of a man who could be guilty of so foul a dishonesty, seek- ing to sweep from the earth a volume to which, all the while, himself recurred for the pi'inciples of education, we thank him for his testimony, that the morality of Scripture is a morality not elsewhere to be found ; so that, if there were no Bible, there would be comj^aratively no source of instruction in duties and viilue, whose neglect and decline would dislo- cate the happiness of human society. The deist was right. Deny or disprove the divine origin of Scripture, and never- theless you must keep the volume as a kind of text-book of morality, if indeed you would not wish the banishment from our homes of all that is lovely and sacred, and the breaking up, through the lawless- ness of ungovernable passions, of the quiet and the beauty which are yet round our families. It is a mighty benefit, invariably pro- duced where the Bible makes way — the heightened tone of morals, and the in- troduction of principles essential to the stabilty of government, and the well- being of households. We admit indeed that this benefit could be but partially wrought, if the Bible were received as only a human composition. We do not exactly see how the deist was to enforce on his child the practice of what Scripture enjoined, if he denied to that Scripture the authority drawn from tlie being God's word. Yet it is not to be doubted, that even where there is but little regard to the divine origin of the Bible, the book wields no inconsiderable sway ; so that numbers, who care nothing for it as a revelation from God, are unconsciously 20 154 THE ADVANTAGES RESULTING FROM influenced by il in every department of" conduct. The deist, though he re- ject revehitlon, and treat it as a fable, is not what he would have been, had there been no revelation. As a member of society, he has been fashioned and cast into the mould of the Bible, how- ever vehement in his wish to exterminate the Bible. It is because the Bible has gained footing in the land where he dwells, and drawn a new boundary-line between what is base and what honor- able, what unworthy of rational beings and what excellent and of good report, that he has learned to prize virtues and shun vices which respectively promote and impede the happiness of families and the greatness of communities. He is therefore the ungracious spectacle of a being elevated by that which he de- rides, ennobled by that on which he throws ridicule, and indebted for all on which he prides himself to that which he pronounces unworthy his regai'd. And if it be thus certain — certain on the confession of its enemies — that a pure and high morality is to be gather- ed only from the pages of the Bible, what an advantage is there in the posses- sion of the Scriptures, even if death were the termination of human existence. Take away the Bible from a nation, so that there should no longer be the ex- hibition and inculcation of its precepts, and there would be a gradual, yea, and a rapid, introduction of false principles and sj)urious theories, which would pave the way for a total degeneracy of man- ners. You. would quickly find that hon- esty and integrity were not held in their former repute, but had given place to fraud and extortion ; that there was an universal setting up of an idol of selfish- ness, before which all that is generous, and disinterested, and philanthropic, would be forced to dohomage ; that there was attached little or none of that sacred- ness to domestic relationshijis which had heretofore been the chief charm of fam- ilies ; and that there was departing from our institutions all that is glorious in lib- erty, and from our firesides all that gives them their attractiveness. Whatever had been introduced and matured by the operations of Christianity, would, in pro- cess of time, decay and disappear, were those operations suspended ; and since we can confidently trace to the inducMJces of true religion, our advancement in all that concerns the public security, and the private tranquillity ; we can with equal confidence affirm our speedy relapse, it these influences were suddenly with- drawn. And therefore do we feel that wo give no exaggerated statement, when we describe the possession of the Bible as the possession of a talisman, by which the worst forms of evil are avert- ed from a land, and the best and purest blessings shrined in its households. We are never afraid to ascribe to the prevalence of true religion, that unmea- sured superiority in all the dignities and decencies of life, which distinguish a christian nation as compared with a hea- then. AVe ascribe it to nothing but ac- quaintance with the revealed will of God, that those kingdoms of the earth, which bow at the name of Jesus, have vastly outstripped in civilization every other, whether ancient or modern, which may be designated pagan and idolatrous. If you search for the full developement of the princijiles of civil liberty, for the se- curity of property, for an evenhanded justice, for the rebuke of gross vices, for the cultivation of social virtues, and for the diffusion of a generous care of the suffering, you must turn to lands wliero the c7"oss has been erected — as though Christianity were identified with what is fine in policy, lofty in morals, and per- manent in greatness. Yea, as though the Bible were a mighty volume, contain- ing whatever is requisite for correcting the disorders of states and cementing the happiness of families, you find that the causing it to be received and read by a people, is tantamount to the producing a thorough revolution — a revolution in- cluding equally the palace and the cot- tage — so that every rank in society, as though there had been waved over it the wand of the magician, is mysteriously elevated, and furnished with new ele- ments of dignity and comfort. Who then will refuse to confess, that, even if regard were had to nothing beyond the present narrow scene, there is no gift comparable to that of the Bible ; and that consequently, though a nation might throw away, as did tlic Jewish, the greatest of their privileges, and fail to grasp the immortality set before them in tlie revelation intrusted to their keeping, there would yet be proof enough of their having possessed a vast advantage over others, in the fact adduced by iSt. Paul THE POSSESSION OP THE SCRIPTURES. 155 ii: onr text, that " unto them natl been committed the oracles of God 1 " We would further observe that we Btand indebted to the Bible for much of intellectual as well as moral advantage. Indeed the two go together. Where there is great moral, there will commonly be gieat mental degradation ; and the in- tellect has no fair play, whilst the man is under the dominion of vice. It is cer- tainly to be observed, that, in becoming a religious man, an individual seems to gain a wider comprehension, and a sound- er judgment ; as though, in turning to God, he had sprung to a higher grade in intelligence. It would mark a weak, or at least an uninformed mind, to look with contempt on the Bible, as though beneath the notice of a man of high power and pursuit. He who is not spiritually, will be iutellectually benefited by the study of Scripture ; and we would match the sacred volume against every other, when the object proposed in the perusal is the strengthening the understanding by con- tact with lofty truth, or refining the taste by acquaintance with exquiste beauty. And of course the intellectual benefit is greatly heightened, if accompanied by a spiritual. Man becomes in the largest sense " a new creature," when you once waken the dormant immortality. It is not of course, that there is communicat- ed any fresh set of mental powers ; but there is removed all that weight and op- pression which ignorance and vicious- ness lay upon the brain. And what is ti-ue of an individual is true, in its de- gree, of a nation ; the diffusion of chris- tian knowledge being always attended by diffusion of correct views in other de- partments of truth, so that, in proportion as a peasanti-y is christianized, you will find it more inquiring and intelligent. And there is no cause for surpi'ise in the fact, that intellectual benefits are con- ferred by the Bible. It is to be remem- bered that we arc indebted to the Bible for all our knowledge of the early history of the world, of the creation of man, and of his first condition and actions. Re- move the Bible, and we are left to con- jecture and fable, and to that enfeebling of the understanding which error almost necessarily produces. Having no au- thentic account of the origin of all things, we should bewilder ourselves with theo- ries which would hamper our every in- quiry ; and the mind, perplexed and baf- fled at the outset, would never expand freely in its after investigations. Wo should have confused apprehensions ot seme unknown powers on which we de- pended, peopling the heavens with va- rious deities, and subjecting ourselves to the tyrannies of superstition. And it is scarcely to be disputed, that there is, in every respect, a debasing tendency in superstition ; and that, if we imagined the universe around us full of rival and an- tagonist gods, in place of knowing it un- der the dominion of one mighty First Cause, we should enter at a vast disad- vantage on the scrutiny of the wonders by which we are surrounded ; the intel- lect being clouded by the mists of moral darkness, and all nature overcast through want of knowledge of its author. The astronomer may have been guid- ed, however unconsciously, by the Bible, as he has pushed his discoveries across the broad fields of space. Why ia it that the chief secrets of nature have been penetrated only in christian times and in christian lands ; and that men, whose names are first in the roll on which science emblazons her achieve- ments, have been men on whom fell the rich light of revelation 1 We pretend not to say that it was revelation which directly taught them how to trace the motions of stars, and laid open to their gaze mysteries which had heretofore baf- fled man's sagacity. But we believe, that, just because their lot was cast in days, and in scenes, when and where the Bible had been received as God's word, their intellect had freer play than it would otherwise have had, and their mind went to its work with greater vig- or, and less impediment. We believe that he who sets himself to investigate the revolutions of planets, knowing tho- roughly beforehand who made those plan- ets and governs their motions, would be incalculably more likely to reach some great discovery, than another who starts in utter ignorance of the truths of crea- tion, and ascribes the planets to chance, or some unintelligible agency. And it is nothing against this opinion, that some who have been eminent by scientific dis- coveries, have been notorious for rejec- tion of Christianity and opposition to the Bible. Let them have been even athe- ists — they have been atheists, not in a land of atheists, but in a land of wor- shippers of the one true God ; and our 15G THE ADVANTAGES RESULTING FROM conviction is, that, had they been atheists in a land of atheists, tliey would never have S(^ signalized themselves hy scien- tific discovery. It has been through liv- ing, as it were, in an atmosphere of" truth, iiowever they themselves have imbibed error, that they have gained that elasti- city of powers which has enabled them to rise into unexplored regions. They have not been ignorant of the truths of the Bible, however they may have re- pudiated the Bible ; and these trutlis have told on all their faculties, freeing them from trammels, and invigorating them for labor ; so that very possibly the eminence which they have reached, and whore they rest with so much pride, would have been as inaccessible to them- selves as to the gifted inquirers of hea- then times, had not the despised Gos- pel pioneered the way, and the rejected Scriptures unfettered their understand- ings. We are thus to the full as persuaded of the intellectual, as of the moral bene- fits produced by the Bible. We reck- on, lliat, in giving the inspired volume to a nation, you give it that which shall cause its mental powers to expand, as well as that which shall rectify existing disorders. And if you would account f