University of California, 
 
 OIF^T OK 
 
 Mrs. SARAH P. WALSWORTH 
 
 Received October, 18^4. 
 Accessions No. Sip ^^S^. Class No. 
 
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DISCOURSES 
 
 ON 
 
 COMMON TOPICS OF CHRISTIAN FAITH 
 AND PRACTICE. 
 
 / 
 
 BT 
 
 JAMES W. ALEXANDER, D.D. 
 
 [■aFlVBRSITT] 
 
 NEW YOEK: 
 
 CHARLES SCRIBNEE, 124 GRAND STREET. 
 
 1858. 
 
Hfi-c^ 
 
 Entered according to Act of Congress, In the year 185S, by 
 
 CHAELES SCKIBNEE, 
 
 In the District Court of the United States for the Southern District of 
 New York. 
 
 JoHM F. Trow, 
 Printer, Stereotyper, and Electrotyper 
 371 & 319 Broadway, 
 Cor. White Street, New York. 
 
nHIVBRSITTl 
 
 PREFACE 
 
 The appearance of these Discourses is due to the kind 
 importunity of the Publisher, once my pupil and since 
 my esteemed friend, who has for several years asked this 
 contribution. Diligent inquiry of the Trade has informed 
 me, that while the recent depression of business has 
 lessened literary demand in general, the proportion of 
 religious books sold has strikingly increased. 
 
 There are, as every one knows, several clever sayings, 
 which set aside the Sermon as a species characteristically 
 dull and unreadable ; and this has tempted not a few, in 
 giving the matter of their preaching to the world, to use 
 some disguise as to the original form. Yet the testimony 
 of booksellers is, that some of the most widely spread 
 publications of the day are collections of Sermons. 
 
4 PREFACE. 
 
 Printing is only preacHng in another shape. Pro- 
 vided, then, that people will read, a minister of Christ 
 needs no more apology for putting his instructions into 
 type, than for going into the pulpit. If he is sincere and 
 zealous, his intention will be the same in both. He is 
 only giving vast increase to the circle of his influence, 
 for good or evil. 
 
 The affectionate and often fondly partial hearers of 
 any preacher, are apt to desire the publication of what 
 has been blessed to their spiritual strength and comfort ; 
 and such derive a profit from the printed book which 
 cannot be measured by its intrinsic quality. It is with 
 this view that these pages are more particularly dedi- 
 cated to the beloved people of my charge. 
 
 After all, the controlling reason for publishing as well 
 as preaching, should be a desire to glorify God in the 
 salvation of men, by communicating as widely as possible 
 the truth of the Gospel. When we have done all, we 
 leave millions unreached by our endeavours ; and if by 
 any means we can add even one to the number of learn- 
 ers, it is worth the labour. Each messenger has some 
 peculiarity in his way of influence. Every man who 
 thinks long and deeply upon the plan of grace has cer- 
 tain favourite views, which have cost him something, 
 which he cherishes with delight, and in which he strongly 
 desires that others may participate. Even truths as old as 
 Christianity itself strike him in such a way that he flatters 
 
PREFACE. 9^ 5 
 
 himself lie can bring them home with a kindred freshness 
 to his neighbours and brethren. Let me avow that there 
 are doctrinal statements in the following pages, which, 
 though in no sense novel, are such as conduce to the very 
 life of my soul, and such therefore as I am exceedingly 
 desirous, in my humble measure, to rescue from misap- 
 prehension and inculcate on my children and friends. 
 E'o speaker or writer is likely to leave a deep mark upon 
 other minds, or in any degree to mould the thinking of 
 his contemporaries, except by the utterance of principles, 
 which not only are held by him in sincerity of belief, but 
 are dear to his heart and operative on his character, as 
 being inseparable from the current of his daily and 
 nightly thinking. They may be true, or they may be 
 false ; but of him who holds them they are the weapons 
 of warfare. Hence we are sometimes fain to do homage 
 to the earnestness of a man, whose reasonings do not 
 bring us over. For the doctrines here set forth, I claim 
 only this : whether with or without reason, they are my 
 belief. Years fly apace, natural vigour wanes, and op- 
 portunities of personal influence become fewer ; but my 
 profound conviction of the verities here proposed waxes 
 stronger and stronger, with a corresponding earnestness 
 to diffuse and impress them. !N'o concealment or com- 
 promise has been attempted as to the tenets ; which be- 
 long to a scheme of belief, ancient, intelligibly distinct, 
 even singular, long contested, read and known of all men. 
 
6 
 
 PREFACE. 
 
 Yet if there is aught here which shall disturb any evan- 
 gelical mind, it has crept in without a polemical purpose. 
 The field is immeasurably large, in which we may ex- 
 patiate, without setting foot upon the minor controver- 
 sies of the schools; and some who are immovably at- 
 tached to certain theological distinctions, would be the 
 last to lay them among the foundations, or erect them 
 into terms of communion, or set them forth as tests of 
 grace. It is hoped, meanwhile, that humble experienced 
 believers will find here in due prominence those central 
 truths concerning Jesus Christ and Him crucified, by 
 which all theology and all sermons must stand or fall. 
 
 None of the articles which make up this book belong 
 to the class of Occasional Discourses ; one only, intended 
 for the young, was delivered by request ; all are such as 
 came up in the routine of a common ministry. They are 
 intentionally miscellaneous, and several of the number 
 are recent, as having been preached during the late 
 blessed awakening. 
 
 It is my humble and hearty prayer, that God would 
 vouchsafe, by his Holy Spirit, to make them useful. 
 
 New York, Novemher, 1858. 
 
CONTENTS 
 
 PAQB 
 
 PREFACE 3 
 
 I. 
 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF 11 
 
 IL 
 
 THE DIVINE PERFECTION^ IN HARMONY . . 49 
 
 IIL 
 THE PROVIDENCE OP GOD IN PARTICULARS . . 73 
 
 IV. 
 THE INCARNATION 93 
 
 V 
 
 THE CHARACTER OF THE WORLDLING , . . 125 
 
 VL 
 THE SCORNER 149 
 
8 CONTENTS. 
 
 VII. PAGE 
 
 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER . . .169 
 
 VIIL 
 DYING FOR FRIENDS 187 
 
 IX. 
 
 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING 207 
 
 X. 
 
 THE THIRSTY INVITED ..... 225 
 
 XL 
 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION . . .245 
 
 XII. 
 NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED . . . 268 
 
 XIII. 
 LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR 283 
 
 XIV. 
 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN ... 821 
 
 XV. 
 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST . . . . .841 
 
 XVL 
 MIRTH . . . . . . . .861" 
 
 XVIL 
 BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES 879 
 
CONTENTS. ^ 9 
 
 XVIII. PAGB 
 
 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE . . . . . 399 
 
 XIX. 
 STRENGTH IN CHRIST 423 
 
 XX 
 
 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE . . , . 443 
 
1. 
 
 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF 
 
xjsivbesity; 
 
 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF * 
 
 2 CoE. ii. 11. 
 " For we are not ignorant of his devices." 
 
 I. If Satan has the guile, the experience and the 
 enmity which we commonly ascribe to him, he may be 
 expected not to confine himself to one mode of attack 
 on Christianity, but to bring up new forces and lay siege 
 to new points in each successive age. And if the de- 
 fenders of Truth have been as successful as we allege, 
 they must make up their minds to see fresh reserves of 
 argumentation, satire and obloquy taking the places of 
 those which have been resisted and overcome. These 
 antecedent probabilities are exactly realized in the ac- 
 tual strategy of our powerful antagonist. Christianity 
 has been assaulted in every age since the beginning, but 
 with a continual change in the object of the onset and 
 the weapons and manoeuvres of the foe. The objec- 
 
 * New York, February 8, 1852. 
 
14 ' OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 tions of Porphyry and Celsus seemed formidable in their 
 day, and called out early waiters in those Apologies, as 
 they are named, which still exist in the Hbraries of the 
 learned ; but their objections would scarcely disturb the 
 faith of a Christian child in our times ; and they have 
 long been laid asleep. A tremendous force was brought 
 to bear against the Church by the English deists, and 
 their successors, the philosophers of France. Prom the 
 literature, the elegance, the occasional wit, the numbers 
 and the skill of these opponents, an undeniable shock 
 was given to the behef of thousands, as we may see in 
 the period anterior to the Prench Revolution. There 
 were not wanting men to predict that Christianity would 
 speedily yield before such talent and daring as those of 
 Voltaire, Rousseau, Hume, Gibbon, Diderot, and D'Hol- 
 bach. The work wrought by these fascinating scholars, 
 in academies, courts and drawing-rooms, was carried on 
 lower down in society by such men as Paine, in clubs 
 and pothouses. All these attacks of the eighteenth 
 century had a common character. Whether sceptical, 
 deistical, or atheistical, they all belonged to what has 
 since been known as RationaHsm. All denied the 
 Bible, and many of them treated it with scorn, sarcasm, 
 and blasphemy ; all set up human Reason as the sole 
 origin of Truth on the points in question. Materiahsts 
 and immateriahsts, sober theists and blank atheists, 
 they agreed in this family Hkeness. There was no 
 elevation, or enthusiasm, or mysticism. Every thing 
 in rehgion was brought to the test of cold calculation. 
 
. OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. $ ]^5 
 
 The pretence of close logic was never more vauntingly 
 put forth. It was by critical dissection and links of 
 reasoning almost mathematical, that all these unbelievers 
 undertook to demonstrate the falsity of our alleged 
 revelation. This was the form of infidehty which pre- 
 vailed in [France, Prussia, Scotland, and in certain circles 
 in Amorica, during the youth of our fathers. It may 
 be seen in its best colours in Volney and in the letters 
 of Jefferson. What a sweep it made in France, even of 
 the Romish clergy, is known to all who have ever con- 
 templated the career of a Talleyrand, a Sieyes, or a 
 Fouche. Some of the worst of the bloody actors were 
 unfrocked priests. It was against this form of oppo- 
 sition that Divine Providence called forth such writers 
 as Watson, Beattie, Campbell, and Robert Hall.* Some 
 of our most valuable treatises on the Evidences of Chris- 
 tianity are the fruits of this warfare. Voltaire predicted 
 that in twenty years Christianity would be extinct, and 
 Mr. Jefferson seemed to smile in anticipation of an age 
 in which superstition should be no more. Once in a 
 while, and generally among the least educated, especially 
 artisans and operatives who come to us from Great 
 Britain, we find a knot of antiquated scoffers, who pore 
 over these exploded books and shed Hbations upon the 
 carcass of Paine. That grand army is as thoroughly 
 disbanded as was Napoleon's at Waterloo ; but CMs- 
 tianity still survives, and some of its greatest triumphs 
 
 * See Hall's celebrated Sermon on Modern Infidelity. 
 
IQ OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 have been made since this very epoch. We have beheld, 
 not the enthroning of the goddess of Reason, but the era 
 of the Bible Society, of Missions, of mighty Revivals, 
 and of" increased Protestant union. If the citadel of 
 Christianity is to fall, it must be by other weapons than 
 those which He black and rusty around the fortification, 
 like the spiked cannon and stray balls which mark the 
 spot of former engagements. That campaign of the 
 antichristian war has reached its close; and he who 
 would bring forth against us the armament of an age 
 utterly left behind, only betrays the simplicity of igno- 
 rance. But are we, therefore, to conclude that Satan 
 has desisted from his attempts ? By no means. He 
 has only availed himself of the pause, to levy forces for 
 a new campaign, and assault positions heretofore unat- 
 tempted. And it is a most interesting and needful 
 inquiry, in what shape the infidel incm^sion of our own 
 day is to be expected ; for the whole fine of our defences 
 must be conformable to the dispositions of the enemy. 
 It is my desire, therefore, to ask your attention to some 
 characteristics of the infidehty which we have most to 
 fear for ourselves and our children. And here there is 
 danger lest we make the field of observation too wide, 
 and thus content ourselves with a superficial view. We 
 ought therefore to exclude, however important in their 
 place, all those forms of error which claim for themselves 
 a part in the church foundation, and which name them- 
 selves Christian. It is not heresy, however noxious, 
 which we would now examine, but infidelity. Nor 
 
OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. •' J/jr 
 
 must we err so grossly as to assert that all infidels be- 
 long to a single class. Their name is legion. It has 
 been admitted that here and there a specimen may be 
 found of the old-fashioned calculating unbeliever of the 
 French or Jacobin, that is, the rationalistic school. 
 Among the remainder there are also various degrees. 
 No one is ruined all at once. In the awful descent 
 each apostate finds " beneath the lowest deep a lower 
 deep ; " and the precise shade of blackness and darkness 
 which we meet in him must depend on the stage of this 
 downward progress at which we make our observation. 
 Yet the infidelity of the nineteenth century has charac- 
 teristics as discernible as that of the eighteenth ; and if 
 these are occasionally less distinct, it is because the un- 
 belief of our day is forming, but not formed ; the pro- 
 cess is incomplete ; the development is still going on. 
 We have to examine tendencies rather than results ; yet 
 as naturalists can detect the poison fruit even in its 
 blossom, and the viper in its egg ; and as the premo- 
 nitions of the earthquake or volcano give inarticulate 
 warnings before the earth is cleft and the lava boiling 
 over, so we have a right to sit in judgment on the falsi- 
 ties beginning to prevail, even though we know but in 
 part whereunto they shall grow. 
 
 1. The beginnings of this contemporaneous infidehty 
 were with a show of great learning and science. As- 
 sumptions of this sort were indeed made by the Ency- 
 clopedists and French atheists ; but their attainments 
 were limited and often superficial. Several great sciences, 
 2 
 
28 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 in their new forms, have been bom since their day. 
 We have only to read the " Jew's Letters " to learn the 
 ignorance of Voltaire as to some of the most ordinary 
 matters of Biblical science ; and the veriest schoolboy 
 would scout the claim of probability for Volney. In 
 our times, if one country more than another has the 
 boast of leamiQg, it is Germany ; and there, if any- 
 where, Infidehty has made its wildest ravages. It was 
 Lessing who led the way in violent warfare against 
 Christ ; Lessing, the poet, the man of taste, the almost 
 universal genius. Goethe and Schiller are claimed by 
 the infidels ; yet the last age has produced no greater 
 masters of the human heart. The philosophy which 
 takes its name from Germany, and which has penetrated 
 France, and entered largely into the pubhc institutions 
 of America, was born and nurtured and matured in 
 the bosom of noble universities, founded for the up- 
 holding of Protestant rehgion. The new sciences have 
 been invoked to prove the Bible false. Astronomy has 
 been placed on the rack, to testify that Creation at the 
 scriptural date is absurd. Geologists, scarcely at the 
 threshold of their discoveries, unsettled in their very 
 nomenclature, and unwiOing to wait tiU they can agree 
 among themselves, have so read the strata of the earth 
 as to give the he to the books of Moses. Ethnography 
 and Ethnology, puffed up in new-born strength, have ut- 
 tered oracles showing that the negro and the white man 
 cannot have had common progenitors. All have boasted 
 superior letters and philosophy. But above all, the 
 
OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 19 
 
 metaphysical reasoners, one after another, have, spider- 
 Hke, spun a thread out of their bowels, wherewith to 
 entangle and crush the doctrines of the Gospel. With 
 a show of erudition and acumen never surpassed, one of 
 the most prominent infidel theologians of Germany ut- 
 tered a " Life of Jesus," undertaking to show that, all 
 the miraculous histories and most of the ordinary narra- 
 tives in our four Gospels are poetic figments, mythic 
 fables, innocent or heated inventions, like the story of 
 the labours of Hercules, or the nursery legend of Jack 
 Frost ; pleasant personifications and instructive apo- 
 logues, with scarce a line of real fact at the bottom. 
 Whole libraries have been ransacked to give basis to 
 this absurd structure, the mere statement of which ought 
 to be its confutation. Let it be my apology for alluding 
 to this poisonous book of Dr. Strauss, to say that it is 
 circulated in English in many editions, and that it has, 
 to my knowledge, entered the house of one of our own 
 persuasion, and perverted the soul of one trained under 
 the truth. Our popular literary men have in some 
 cases drunk this poison. Certain portions of the Uni- 
 tarian body, unable to keep foothold on the narrow 
 edge between their attenuated Christianity and Deism, 
 have cast themselves into the gulf of Germanism. If 
 you would know what I mean, consider the teachings 
 of Theodore Parker, Emerson, and their confederates. 
 This is, as you perceive, no longer the vulgar infidehty 
 of the last age ; but it is not less destructive. 
 
 2. The Infidelity of our age affects to be rehgious. 
 
20 OFR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 This could hardly be said of that which prevailed before. 
 The attempt was, in most, to scout every thing like de- 
 votion, enthusiasm, or inward affection, as superstitious. 
 It was found that this was first impolitic, and then im-. 
 possible. It was found that man as a religious being 
 must have some outlet for the spiritual sentiments, and 
 would make religions for himself, such as the French 
 Theophilanthropism, or betake himself to the beautiful 
 idolatries of Greece, as both Gibbon and SchiUer seemed 
 half disposed to do. It was found that man, despoiled 
 of all the religious emotions, became a Marat or a Paine, 
 a tiger or a swine. It was necessary therefore for the 
 arch-enemy to remodel his devices, and bring in a reli- 
 gion which was better than that of the Bible. This, my 
 brethren, this above all things else, is the grand charac- 
 teristic of infidelity, in its present most dangerous form. 
 Your sons and your daughters may be breathing the 
 fatal chloroform of German transcendentalism, when 
 they seem to themselves surrounded by the familiar air of 
 Christianity. They may hear much from popular lectur- 
 ers of the ideal, the spiritual, the divine, even of God in- 
 carnate in humanity, of resurrection, of faith, of Christ 
 himself, when the subtle deceiver, annexing to these 
 terms his own antichristian meanings, is slowly and de- 
 liciously, but surely and fatally charming from them aU 
 that can renew and save the soul. Most of all danger- 
 ous is our spiritual enemy when he thus transforms 
 himself into an angel of light. 
 
 You have need to be warned against this new form 
 
OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 21 
 
 of error, because it employs almost every term of theolo- 
 gy and experience in a false and deceptive sense, often 
 applying the most sacred words of gracious truth to 
 matters of literature, scenery, the fine arts, love, and alas, 
 even to sinful indulgence. Some of the foremost poets 
 of our day are chargeable with these insidious tactics ; 
 so that a father has need to look well to the books 
 which lie upon his daughter's table, as splendid presen- 
 tation copies. I do not mean merely the avowed 
 Atheist and convicted blasphemer, Shelley, who ma- 
 ligned Jesus and argued against marriage ; but many 
 seemingly pure and undoubtedly gifted authors, who 
 sing beautifully of Nature and of God. And here we 
 must remark, that while under the former phase of Infi- 
 delity, much was said of Nature, under its present phase 
 as much is said of God. Yet be not deceived, my 
 brethren. If frequent repetition of the Sacred Name 
 could sanctify a cause, theirs would be hallowed indeed. 
 But their God is not our God ; not the God and Father 
 of the Lord Jesus Christ ; not the God of the Saints ; 
 not even a personal God. "With many varieties of ex- 
 pression, and many modes of veiling their horrid pur- 
 pose, their inward thought is to remove ah that we mean 
 by God. The more they talk of God, the less they be- 
 lieve in him. In their disguised atheism the term im- 
 plies the sum of aU things, or the everlastingly unfold- 
 ing process of causes, or the universal Reason, as exist- 
 ing in all minds. Sometimes, in their glorification of 
 humanity, they utter the scriptural phrase, God is man ; 
 
22 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 but their inward meaning is that man is God. Man is 
 the object -of their adoration. The highest manifestation 
 of God, say they, is in the human mind. This they 
 dishonestly name, at times, the Incarnation. Indeed, 
 there is scarcely a precious term in the vocabulary of 
 grace, which they have not stolen and defiled by their 
 abominable prostitution. This is the form of atheism 
 which now threatens the world, and which has been 
 called Pantheism. Pew have gone the length of hold- 
 ing the system in all its parts ; many differ as to minute 
 tenets and explanations ; but towards this vortex all the 
 popular and poetical unbeliefs of the age are rolling 
 themselves. This maelstrom has abeady sucked in and 
 engulfed several sickly and half-living heresies, among 
 the rest a goodly portion of the Socinians. The bloodless 
 humanitarianism of Priestley and Belsham was too cold, 
 too reasoning, too deathlike ; their churches were too 
 sombre and empty ; their very ministers could not be kept 
 from becoming authors, statesmen, or diplomatic agents ; 
 their creed was too near Deism. This was discovered 
 by many of the shrewder sort. Hence the new method of 
 reconciling opposites which had been discovered in Ger- 
 many was seized with avidity ; and from this arises the 
 modern philosophical, poetical, pantheistical Christian. 
 For a reason above given, such a one may, by dexterous 
 use of scriptural terms, give his discourses a sound 
 which is all but orthodox. But the more sober and 
 rational Unitarian abhors these extravagances scarcely 
 less than we. Never before has the world seen so large 
 
OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 23 
 
 a body of infidels, really denying every tMng like a 
 proper revelation, yet full of great swelling words about 
 the Spirit, the God of History, the union of Virtue and 
 Beauty, and the excellence of Rehgion. 
 
 3. The Infidelity of our age connects itself with 
 freedom and social progress. So far as the infidehty of 
 France was a reaction against hierarchy and the pope, 
 it had the same colours. Hence the very men who 
 murdered the priesthood in the September massacres, 
 were loud in cries of hberty, equahty, and fraternity. 
 But this poHcy of modem imbehef is much more boldly 
 marked. Hence the cry, on every side, that Chris- 
 tianity is a failure ; that the Church has not made men 
 happy ; that whatever good the Bible has accomplished, 
 its work is done, and we must have something better. 
 It is a part of this scheme to glory in humanity as such; 
 to assert the independence and self-sufficiency of man ; 
 to deify the creature, and pushing the rights of man to 
 a Jacobinical and impracticable extreme, to instal lawless 
 Freedom in the pulpit. There is something so attach- 
 ing and gracious in the first aspect of a levelling system, 
 that any scheme of this kind gains multitudes of con- 
 verts among the oppressed, the suffering, the discon- 
 tented, the aspiring, and the greedy. Even in our own 
 free commonwealth, where every man who deserves to 
 rise may succeed in it, so far as outward restrictions 
 are concerned, there begins to be more and more every 
 year, a half-suppressed hum and murmur among certain 
 large classes ; as if all ranks must be brought to a com- 
 
24 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 mon level ; as if the capitalist and the transient worker 
 must share alike ; as if the accumulations of industry 
 must become a spoil for the idlest ; as if labour with 
 the hands were the only title to enjoyment. This being 
 openly and diametrically opposed to the letter of Scrip- 
 ture, these teachers, however they may begin, are pretty 
 sure to end in discovering that the Bible is false. Thus, 
 strange as it may seem, philanthropy, unsanctified, may 
 lead unsound minds to unbelief; and there are no more 
 reckless and bitter opponents of Christianity than a 
 number of writers, lecturers, and editors, whom we 
 once knew or heard of a^ ministers of Jesus Christ. 
 The truth, however, must be told : just as with Euro- 
 pean grain we have brought into our fields the weeds 
 of agriculture, so with the unheard-of emigration from 
 foreign countries, we have imported infidel socialism 
 and communism. It is no longer the books and argu- 
 ments of false teachers, only, we have the men them- 
 selves, the ready-made disciples, clamouring in our 
 public assemblies, and inflaming a peaceful population 
 from the press. I leave, as not pertaining to the pul- 
 pit, the question how far this influx from corrupt 
 sources may be expected to modify our pohtical institu- 
 tions. 
 
 The device of Satan is most apparent in all this. 
 The excesses towards which infidelity drives, are coun- 
 terfeits and caricatures of the very blessings which we 
 owe to true religion. Tor, is not Christianity the reli- 
 gion of the poor and the oppressed? Is it not the 
 
OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 25 
 
 religion of philanthropy ? Does it not teach the com- 
 mon origin and spiritual equality of aU men, in the sight 
 of God ? Does it not seek, and at the safest moment 
 procure, human freedom and social rights ? Must it 
 not be named pre-eminently the system of true progress ? 
 Yea, yea, in despite of Garrison and Proudhon, forever 
 yea. But when God has launched his vessel, infidelity 
 would board and master it, and, tearing its noble tim- 
 bers apart, would frame a thousand fantastic and 
 perishable rafts out of the dismembered hulk. Nay, 
 circhng around the ancient ship, she would claim for 
 her crazy floats, of stolen material, all the safety and all 
 the glory of the original structure. The press of the 
 day, deeply surrendered to the half-religions and mock- 
 religions of the time, is ever and anon jeering at the 
 Church and at Christianity, as not doing so much for 
 mankind as these reformers would do, as jacobinism 
 would do, as common property and unmarried alhance 
 would do. Thus antediluvians laughed at the Ark. 
 Hiding from view the fact that whatever philanthropy 
 irrigates the desert of humanity, is the product of this 
 very Church and this very Christianity. They calumni- 
 ate the mountain spring, and claim all its flowing lakes 
 and rivers as their own. But you will agree with me, 
 that the prevalent infideUty assumes to be the benefactor 
 of mankind. 
 
 4. The infidelity of our time is extending itself 
 among the less cultivated classes. Begun in learning, 
 it was almost proverbial in ancient times that Chris- 
 
26 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 tianity was gladly received by the poor, while it was 
 rejected by the learned. Something of this was true 
 a century ago. The virus of French unbehef was gene- 
 rated among scholars, and fomented in courts and 
 academies. During the progress of the anarchy which 
 preceded Napoleon, the leading spirits were men of 
 education ; the brutal masses, it is true, maddened by 
 long oppression, feverish with the thirst of freedom, and 
 confounding Christianity with the despotism of the 
 priesthood and the confessional, abjured the Redeemer, 
 and well-nigh offered up the idea of God. This was more 
 from false political notions however, than from any de- 
 Hberate theory of rehgious unbehef. And when Deism, 
 or, perhaps, Atheism, came over sea into many minds 
 in America, it was principally among speculative men, 
 who aspired to be philosophers. But our own day has 
 seen a very great increase of this tendency in anti- 
 christian systems to popularize themselves. The most 
 capable observers tell us concerning Germany, for ex- 
 ample, that the language of unbelief and blasphemy is 
 no longer confined to the schools and universities where 
 it hngered long. The upland waters have broken them- 
 selves away, and are flooding the champaign. There 
 is reason to fear that in central and northern Europe 
 the masses of the people are rapidly becoming corrupt 
 in regard to the essentials of religion. In lands where 
 it is difficult to find a boy or a girl who cannot read, 
 thousands and myriads are growing up to neglect all 
 pubhc worship and all private prayer. I grieve to say 
 
OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 27 
 
 it — ^but a great number of the foreigners who emigrate 
 to America are grossly infidel. It is the solemn and 
 sorrowful testimony of most respected clergymen of 
 their own race. It is attested by the radical, and often 
 antichristian avowals of the numerous newspapers pub- 
 lished among us in that language. Nor is the evil 
 confined to one country. The contagion has spread 
 widely among the working-classes of Great Britain, 
 many of whom bring over their scepticism or their im- 
 piety. It may be safely asserted, that wherever we find 
 a club, society or institute openly and loudly infidel, 
 we may detect a large infusion of transatlantic people. 
 Yet we must not flatter ourselves that our native popu- 
 lation, especially in cities and large towns, enjoys an 
 exemption. While the great body, through Divine fa- 
 vour, remains untouched, the new generation has many 
 growing up without any Sabbath, indifierent to pubHc 
 worship, schooled without the Bible, a ready prey to 
 false religionists in the first place, and thus prepared to 
 take the further step into denial of all revelation. The 
 means of grace do not any longer reach our population 
 in its length and breadth. Churches rise in great num- 
 bers, where the truth is preached and honoured; but 
 other places of rehgious teaching, in equal numbers, 
 draw crowds into Universalism, Socmianism, enthusi- 
 astic and fanatical heats, and insane pretensions to 
 mysterious influence and spiritual revelation. And 
 then, what numbers in civic populations frequent no 
 house of worship ! A late writer, of much observation 
 
28 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 and detail, speaking of the street-people of London, as- 
 sures us that thirty thousand of this single class never 
 enter any place of religious instruction. We have not 
 reached this extreme ; but are we not on the way ? It 
 is matter of observation, that our churches are generally 
 filled with at least well-doing people. But where are 
 the vastly greater numbers of those who still more need 
 the consolations of the gospel ? I bring no charges, 
 brethren ; indeed, I have the sickening faintness of one 
 who beholds a great malady, but is not prepared to an- 
 nounce a specific remedy ; revived Christianity being 
 the only real cure. Por my present argument, it is 
 enough to point to this state of things, obviously in- 
 creasing, as a proof that the modern irreligion is widely 
 prevalent among the humbler portions of society. 
 
 5. The Infidelity of our times is strikingly immoral 
 in its tendency. All falsehood in religion is by its very 
 nature opposed to virtue ; but in varying degrees, ac- 
 cording to the presence or absence, and according to 
 the degree, of the causes already enumerated. Satan 
 does not always display the cloven foot. The minister 
 of darkness does not at once disclose himself in the 
 colours of the pit. It is the pohcy of unbelief, while 
 working its way upward into public favour, to assume 
 the garb of purity. Hence, there have been many 
 avowed infidels who, out of the very pride of sect, have 
 led lives of scrupulous outward virtue. Lord Herbert 
 of Cherbury is not the only Deist who has seemed to 
 outshine many a Christian professor. But in our day, 
 
OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. . » 29 
 
 the evil tree is hung all over with its proper loathsome 
 fruit. The prevailing forms of unbehef in revelation 
 are accompanied with manifest deterioration of morals. 
 When men begin to go astray in conduct, and to in- 
 dulge any great vice, they gladly embrace such errors 
 as may stupefy conscience, and so enable them to sin 
 unchecked. And then, the effect in turn becomes a 
 cause ; and by an inverse action the falsehood breeds 
 irregularity and crime. Go where you wiU, among 
 families, neighbourhoods or communities, where there 
 has been shipwreck made of faith, and you observe a 
 correspondent injury of the moral sense. It is almost 
 an unfailing index of the modem infidel, that he in- 
 veighs against the perpetuity and sanctity of marriage. 
 By an easy process, the sanctions of property are worn 
 away. Inoculate any large class with antichristian 
 opinions, and the contagious influence becomes horridly 
 rife. An angry, relentless spirit of discontent, mutual 
 distrust, lust of change, revolutionary fire, and general 
 disquiet, plays on the features and inflames the lan- 
 guage. The great and invaluable gift of freedom fur- 
 nishes no safeguard here, unless it be coupled with true 
 rehgion. Freedom is only a condition, under which 
 men's principles act. If those principles are destruc- 
 tive, freedom is but an open door to ruin. The abso- 
 lute freedom of a thoroughly immoral people, " hateful 
 and hating one another," would be nothing short of 
 hell. Indeed, the instinct of self-preservation does not 
 allow men to remain long in any state approaching this ; 
 
30 OUE MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 for, in dread of one another, they are fain to take refuge 
 under the protective shadow of miUtary domination or 
 imperial tyranny. 
 
 Blessed be God, the rehgion which fled to this new 
 world for an asylum is still spared to us ; and there 
 are wide agricultural districts which have not been 
 reached by more than the rumour of philosophic infideh- 
 ty and disorganizing wrong. Yet, so far as this rehgious 
 guard has been impaired, the consequence has been a 
 relaxation of public morals. 
 
 It is not perfectly easy to declare, how far we may 
 trace to this source the increase of crime, which is mat- 
 ter of every-day complaint. Some think that breaches 
 of mercantile confidence are less rare than fifty years 
 ago. The journals of every morning famiharize us to 
 the record of murder. And suicide, the special crime 
 of those who deny a future retribution, is committed 
 with a frequency which often robs the gibbet of its 
 prey. I might note other crimes, but your memory 
 and observation will supply what it might be inconve- 
 nient to describe from this place. It admits no denial, 
 that while individual exceptions occur, the usual result 
 of disbelief in the Evangelical Scriptures, is an open 
 declension of morahty, and that this result is especially 
 remarkable at present. 
 
 II. In the opening of these remarks it was ad- 
 mitted that the period of Infidelity in which we are 
 Uving has not reached its term, and that to judge it 
 
OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. »* 32 
 
 fully we must wait till the causes now in action shall 
 have worked out their full results. Por there is a growth 
 in opinion as truly as in the rise, progress and end of a 
 human being ; and though in both cases there may be 
 further consequences, it is rather by lineal descent than 
 by the continuance of individual life. There is, more- 
 over, a wide extent in the prevalence of great falsehoods. 
 Beginning in one comer of the world, they spread them- 
 selves from country to country ; and just as the harvest 
 comes at a different month in Canada, in Maryland, and 
 in Mississippi, so the full crop of infidelity is not seen 
 at one and the same time in aU lands. In some it has 
 begun to scatter its narcotic seeds, while in others there 
 is but the tender blade emerging from the furrow ; but 
 this very gradation enables us to study the character of 
 the growth. If in certain places we find the mature 
 plant, with its poisonous juices thoroughly concocted, 
 we thereby learn what we may expect from the young 
 and perhaps attractive flower which blooms among our- 
 selves. There are countries where infidehty may be 
 said to have run its race and displayed all its stages of 
 insidious promise and eventual desolation. Such was 
 Prance under the Revolution. There are others in which 
 it is only beginning. Dreadful as it is, it is nevertheless 
 true, that the presses of New York and Philadelphia 
 have issued thousands of copies of the last century's 
 infidelity, in the works of Voltaire, Volney, Rousseau, 
 and Paine, in Spanish translations for the South Amer- 
 ican market. And, as if the malignity of Satan could 
 
32 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 have no rest, some of these same books have been labo- 
 riously and widely circulated in the native languages of 
 the East Indies, to corrupt the ignorant and besotted 
 Hindoo, and to close his mind against the gospel. 
 Such states of opinion are widely diflPerent from that 
 which exists among ourselves, as indeed our own state 
 differs from that of some European nations, where 
 vaster strides have been made towards the denial of all 
 moral distinctions and of God himself. Thus the 
 giant pestilence of our day, which circumnavigated the 
 globe, began in Asia and traversed Europe before it 
 showed its ghastly visage on our western shores twenty 
 years ago. But this gradual accession of the plague 
 allowed and encouraged medical skill to examine the 
 nature of the disease long before the treatment of it 
 became a practical question. We have been consider- 
 ing a more fatal malady which is traversing the earth, 
 and of which the symptoms are not deathly coldness and 
 spasms of bodily pain, but mental delusion, palsied con- 
 science, and a heart ossified by godless falsehood. We 
 have seen it seizing men of learning, taste and civiliza- 
 tion, and then stealing like an infection into the crowded 
 haunts of labour and the hovels of want. We have de- 
 scried in it a type differing from the infidel deceptions 
 of a former generation. We are old enough to remem- 
 ber its beginnings under this new form among our- 
 selves ; and we open our eyes to its more consummate 
 virulence in countries where it has more deeply corroded 
 the vitals of Christianity. We are alarmed at daily in- 
 
OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 33 
 
 dications of its stealthy but effectual expansion in the 
 literature and society around our doors. We begin to 
 tremble for our children and successors. Unless the 
 whole picture has been overcharged, we read in all this 
 a lesson, which may cast a sober hue over the thoughts 
 of even the most selfish and worldly. 
 
 1. We are loudly admonished to be on our guard. 
 When pestilence is in the air, wise householders look 
 well to the symptoms of their family. When enemies 
 are in a land, true generalship throws out its parties of 
 reconnaissance, and keeps a sharp eye on every suspicious 
 wayfarer and every sign of treachery and ambush. 
 When the freedom of a kingdom is endangered, patriots 
 are awake to every sign of increased power. These are 
 not tremors of cowardice, but salutary precautions of pru- 
 dence and benevolence. It is because we are not igno- 
 rant of Satan's devices, that we maintain an equal vigi- 
 lance against our spiritual adversaries. Snares are 
 harmless when discovered, and "in vain is the net 
 spread in the sight of any bird.'' 
 
 But it is not enough to be aware of danger in general ; 
 we must know from what quarter and in what particular 
 form to expect it. If infidelity made its first demon- 
 strations in all the dark and bloody colours of downright 
 atheism and Kcentiousness, it would never show a con- 
 vert. It is the very insidiousness of the approach wliich 
 magnifies our peril. Hence our first duty is to know 
 the enemy, and if possible to know his most covert ad- 
 vances. We. must learn to pull off masks and see 
 3 
 
34 OUR MODERN" UNBELIEF. 
 
 through disguises, to distrust honeyed words, and fear 
 our foes even when they come bearing gifts. This im- 
 phes a sufficient acquaintance with the whole system of 
 positive truth to know when any part of it is attacked, 
 and then information as to the ways in which those at- 
 tacks are Hkely to be made. Among the multitude of 
 books, public journals, orations, lectures, sermons, poems, 
 and common talk, in which we hve, there are every day 
 some which propose antichristian opinions. As truth 
 is one and error manifold, no human faculty can fore- 
 see the precise mode in which falsehood will be pre- 
 sented by a wily foe ; and therefore the grand safeguard, 
 as we shall see, is a knowledge of the truth. But sub- 
 sidiary to this is a watchful scrutiny of every principle 
 which assaults or undermines any particular doctrine of 
 God. These false teachings often begin far away from 
 the point at which they really aim ; but such is the 
 contexture and harmony of the Divine system, that it 
 begins to give way upon the surrender of any leading 
 propositions. Those wretched persons who, from being 
 speculative Christians, have become atheists, arrived at 
 this catastrophe by a series of acts. Nemo repentefuit 
 turjpissimus. Hence the need of watching the earliest, 
 slightest symptoms of the disease. Our danger is aU 
 the greater in proportion as we have allowed the close 
 and thorough religious instruction of households to fall 
 into desuetude. There are many among us who read 
 abundance of books, but among them so Httle of Chris- 
 tian theology, that they do not even recognise the deadly 
 
OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 35 
 
 sentiments of the worst systems, if offered to them with 
 prettiness of diction, cant phrases, pretension to phi- 
 losophy, and the rounded voice of a popular lecturer. 
 
 The devices of falsehood are Protean. Let me cull 
 out of a wide field of tares a handful for a sample. And 
 for reasons already given we must include errors which 
 echo from pulpits as well as from Hberal clubs. Be on 
 your guard then, brethren, against the doctrine of man's 
 irresponsibility for his belief. As soon as you have 
 opened your mind to this pregnant tenet, you have ad- 
 mitted within your walls a Trojan horse, fraught with 
 enemies to consume both hearth and altar. Por such 
 is the blinding influence of sin, that you have only to 
 make a man wicked enough, to make him capable 
 of believing any thing, even that there is no harm in 
 murder and voluptuousness, or that there is no God. 
 Yet this is a popular doctrine of the age, the entering 
 wedge which shall rend the entire evangehcal fabric. 
 Keep a watch against the absurd dogma, that man is 
 the creature of circumstances ; so that every human 
 soul is in opinion and character just what the things 
 around him necessitate him to be, and hence not re- 
 sponsible for the vileness or the crime which he could 
 by no possibility prevent or remove. In this article 
 of current unbehef, we have fatalism with a vengeance. 
 
 Shun, as you would sugared arsenic, the sHghtest 
 suggestion that there are no essential moral distinctions. 
 Your arch-poisoner is too crafty to teU you outright that 
 there is no difference between right and wrong. But 
 
35 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 he will sweeten the cup of death with such forms as 
 these, that Virtue has no essence but its tendency to 
 promote happiness ; or that sin is a very different affair 
 when viewed from the side of man and from the side of 
 God ; or that God can no more make a universe without 
 sin, than two mountains without a valley between ; or 
 that vice is no otherwise vice than as it is judged such 
 by the conscience. Though the unsuspecting youth 
 often receives these, from incapacity to reason far 
 enough, he is actually preparing himself for the denial 
 of eternal morality. 
 
 Recognise your antichristian enemy, though in gown 
 and bands, when he whispers to you that there is no 
 punishment after death, a doctrine which is spreading 
 like a contagion in city and country. We may trace to 
 it the relaxed morals of millions, and the manifest in- 
 crease of self-murder, since many a villain would fly to 
 the rope if he were dehvered from the dread of a here- 
 after. 
 
 Guard your soul against the fallacy that there are 
 no mysteries in rehgion, or that no man can beheve 
 what is above his understanding* In another place, it 
 might be proved that this is as contrary to philosophy 
 as to religion; but here we are simply denouncing 
 traitors in our camp. 
 
 Above all, fix your eye with detestation on every at- 
 tempt to deny or impair the Inspiration of the Scrip- 
 tures. This it is, in which all schools of infidehty, an- 
 cient and modem, join hands. So long as a man admits 
 
OUR MODERN UXBELIEF. 
 
 37 
 
 the plenary inspiration of these books, we have some 
 ground common to us and him, and some admitted me- 
 dium of proof ; and even though he be in grievous error, 
 we may hope to reclaim him. He may be a Papist, but 
 so was MartiQ Luther; he may be a Socinian, so was 
 Thomas Scott. While a man hstens to God speaking in 
 this Word, the case is not desperate. But how can we 
 argue from Scripture with one who holds only so much 
 of Scripture to be authoritative as he could have dis- 
 covered himself, who selects the parts which he shall 
 reject as fable, and who is a Scripture to himself? 
 When these, or any of these, or any like these, present 
 themselves for your behef, know ye, that your enemy is 
 at your door ; be on your guard, and be not ignorant 
 of his devices. 
 
 2. The existence of such snares should urge us to 
 seek protection against the invasion of falsehood. It is 
 not enough to know our enemy even in his feints and 
 subterfuges ; to this we must add positive means to escape 
 from his devices. All these means come at last to a 
 single one, behef of the truth. This, being the fexact 
 opposite of InfideHty, is incompatible with it, and ex- 
 clusive of it. Large and iatimate knowledge of divine 
 verities, and strong faith in the same, are the only pro- 
 tection ; and this is infaUible and sovereign, which ought 
 to be comforting to those overtasked, feeble, or unlet- 
 tered disciples, who cannot read many books, and who 
 might otherwise be confounded at the sight of an enemy 
 spread on every side, changing his martial columns at 
 
38 OUR MODERlf XmBELIEF. 
 
 every instant, and seeking entrance at every avenue. 
 Thanks be to God ! in order to be an instructed and 
 firm Christian, it is not necessary to answer all the ob- 
 jections of the freethinker, or even to know them. You 
 are not required to soar into the metaphysic of Hegel, 
 or plunge into the sty of Epicurus. Divine Truth is 
 its own defence. Its system is so compact, ordered, 
 symmetrical and harmonious, that it proves itself ; and 
 the more you learn of it, the more you find each por- 
 tion demonstrative of every other. " He that believeth 
 hath the witness in himself." But for this, the hum- 
 ble, unschooled behever would be left to the impHcit 
 faith of the Papist, for it is obvious he could not 
 traverse the encyclopedia of scientific evidence. The 
 engines of defence are subhme and impregnable, and 
 have proved mighty in the hands of teachers and learn- 
 ed champions, to stop the mouths of adversaries. But 
 they are not indispensable to the private Christian. His 
 demonstration lies nearer home. Cowper felt this, when 
 he contrasted Voltaire with the pious lace-weaver, a 
 hapfy, humble woman, who 
 
 "Just knows, and knows no more, her Bible true, 
 " A truth the brilliant Frenchman never knew." 
 
 The divine method of arming the soul against sceptical 
 attacks, is to shed into it behef of the revealed word by 
 the Holy Ghost sent down from heaven. This is ac- 
 complished every day in those who never so much as 
 
OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 39 
 
 spelled out the names of the great unbelieving authors. 
 Indeed, even in the case of accomphshed theologians, 
 who are called professionally, and often with great pain 
 to themselves, to turn over volumes of sophism and im- 
 piety, in order to frame a reply, the solid confidence of 
 which they are conscious is not founded so much on 
 these rephes, as on that inward demonstration of the 
 Spirit which is common to them and the most unlettered 
 hind. Every experienced Christian has proofs of the 
 truth of Christianity, which no external science can 
 shake. He is more sm-e that this Bible is the very word 
 of his redeeming God and Father, than he ever can be 
 that such or such an assertion of Geology or Astronomy 
 is true. And to this interior citadel he continually re- 
 sorts, under all the temporary shocks produced by the 
 ever changing tactics of infidel discovery. The same is 
 true of objections founded on doctrinal difficulties, on 
 Scriptural interpretation, on alleged absurdities or con- 
 tradictions in the revealed Word. His conviction and 
 assurance of the great mass of divine truth is such, that 
 he can wait for the resolution of particular doubts, as 
 being certain that they admit a solution even if un- 
 known to him. True piety teaches him, as clearly as 
 does true philosophy, to acquiesce in that golden maxim 
 of all healthy minds, not to let doubts about what is 
 difficult disturb his belief of what is plain. Some 
 indentations of the coast he may never have surveyed, 
 he may have found them laid down on no chart ; but 
 those great lights and forelands which have guided all 
 
40 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 his voyage, lie will not surrender or deny, because they 
 cannot be descried through the clouded glass of the 
 scoffer. Such is the protective power of faith under in- 
 fidel assault. 
 
 Confirmation of this is afforded by a fact, known to 
 all who are famiHar with conversions of unbelievers, that 
 these transformations are not commonly wrought by the 
 slow process of taking down the infidel structure doubt 
 by doubt, and building in its stead the Christian structure 
 proof by proof; but that the scoffer is pierced by con- 
 viction of his guilt, like any common sinner, and led to 
 the Lord Jesus Christ in childlike faith. It is often 
 long before his doubts, in their entire series, are sever- 
 ally resolved, but the blow has been struck which pros- 
 trates the capital unbelief of the heart. 
 
 A deep and thorough acquaintance, therefore, with 
 the positive truth of Scripture, followed by cordial and 
 evangelical acceptance of it, is the sure bulwark against 
 the operations of antichristian error on our own hearts. 
 
 There are, however, as was suggested before, some 
 subordinate precautions to be observed. If it is neces- 
 sary to have the mind possessed by the truth, it is all- 
 important for this end to shut out the inroads of error. 
 There is such a thing as foolhardy adventure into an 
 enemy's country. Rehgious falsehood sometimes comes 
 in such a shape as to stimulate the curiosity of the un- 
 wary, as the fruit of the Tree of Knowledge tempted 
 Eve. Sometimes it is the vehicle which is attractive. 
 It may be elegant style, it may be romance, it may be 
 
OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. ^^ 
 
 closely-knit argumentation, it may be popular eloquence. 
 The union of several such fascinations may invite the 
 youthful student to taste the poisonous clusters, and ac- 
 quire the taste for doubts and cavils. The most seduc- 
 tive and cunning argument against future retribution, 
 which our age has produced, is contained in a poem of 
 high talent, which you will find in every shop. The 
 name and fame of some great heretical preacher, or some 
 orator who dehvers infidel sermons under the guise of lec- 
 tures to the people, summon numbers of half-instructed 
 people, who admire and acquiesce, and go again, not 
 knowing, in their simphcity, that the new doctrines which 
 they drink in will presently unsettle all the rehgious behef 
 of their childhood. Happier far is the faith of the vulgar, 
 than Hterary advancement, bought at such a price. It is 
 a plain maxim of common sense, not to tamper with infec- 
 tion ; and he is a fool who, for the mere sake of proving his 
 boldness and freedom from bigotry, rushes uncalled into 
 the miasmatic influence of false teaching. " Cease, my 
 son," says the wise man, "to hear the instruction that 
 causeth to err from the words of knowledge." Prov. xix. 
 27. "Take heed," said Incarnate Wisdom, "what ye 
 hear." The caution which is good for yourself, is good for 
 your children and dependents. A httle mineral admixture 
 in their daily bread, a Httle morbific quahty in their daily 
 milk, would be justly dreaded, as tending to wear away the 
 health ; yet the daily journal enters your doors, distilling 
 by Httle and Httle false, latitudinarian and radical opinions. 
 No marvel if you find your old age surrounded by sons 
 
42 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 who have made shipwreck of the faith. Christian parents 
 and teachers, it is impossible to watch too affectionately 
 the literature which comes into the hands of the young. 
 If you desire them to be guarded and manly Christians, 
 their pabulum must be truth. It is as certain of the 
 mind as of the body, that whatsoever is taken into it 
 should tend directly to its growth or strength ; all that 
 is otherwise, is noxious. Nutrition, moreover, is a grad- 
 ual process, the result of repeated acts. If, then, the 
 mind and character are to make progress, and acquire 
 firmness, there must be not slight and occasional, but 
 regular and extensive study of God's revealed will. Nor 
 is there a household among us which does not need 
 reformation in this particular. Thus, by promoting 
 knowledge of truth, anjd discouraging famiharity with 
 falsehood, we may, under God's blessing, do much to 
 protect ourselves against abounding infidehty. 
 
 3. In such a time of prevailing error, it becomes us 
 to prevent its diffusion in society. Let me not be con- 
 sidered an alarmist. There are ten thousand good 
 things of which we are altogether undeserving, and for 
 which we ought to be giving thanks ; and among these 
 we must reckon numberless Christian churches, com- 
 prising a host of God's people. Yet I teU you no new 
 thing, my hearers, when I repeat that there is a mixed 
 multitude, especially in our towns, who have made 
 terms with the enemy and sacrificed their faith. If 
 frank Deists and open-mouthed Atheists are less com- 
 mon than they were about the beginning of the century ; 
 
OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 43 
 
 if, as is undeniable, it is disreputable for a man to attend 
 no place of worship ; if society shudders when one dis- 
 tinctly condemns or ridicules the Bible ; it is still true 
 that* disbelief in revelation prevails among a large part 
 of our people, including men of letters and science, jour- 
 nalists and authors. And the danger is not lessened 
 but much increased, when such persons, by a new de- 
 vice of Satan, profess to war by our side under the 
 standards of Christianity, and even afiPect to preach 
 that Jesus whom they disbelieve and despoil of aU his 
 glory. Nay more, few who have not made the inquiry 
 a special business, have any adequate conception how 
 many of another class are professed sceptics or real in- 
 fidels ; how many cherish a low and brutal materiahsm 
 and atheism under some names of social reform ; how 
 many associations and meetings for debate are kept up 
 by these so-caUed liberals ; how many cheap volumes go 
 to swell the black sewers of this underground torrent ; 
 and how many newspapers, in German as well as Eng- 
 Hsh, are more or less characterized by abuse of the 
 church, the ministry, and the Bible. Various methods 
 may be proposed for stemmuig, averting and drying up 
 this river of death, and no one of them is to be regarded 
 with coldness. But after all, the great method, in ac- 
 cordance with principles already laid down, is to preach 
 the gospel and gather the church. Other means, with 
 incidental benefit no doubt, tend to diffuse themselves, 
 and to be lost by too wide dispersion. The evangelic 
 method tends to permanency and settlement. Every 
 
44 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 missionary effort, rightly conducted, fixes a centre, 
 plants a standard, designates a rallying-point, draws in 
 one and another, and at length a group, a society, a 
 multitude, builds on a foundation, and binds together 
 in a structure which shall abide. Every single church 
 gathered in the truth and moved by the Spirit, is a 
 permanent and energetic organ for the destruction of 
 infidelity around it. Especially true is this among the 
 more rude and ignorant, to whom the preacher's voice 
 is the instrument of instruction in divine truth, in place 
 of printed books, reviews, magazines and rehgious 
 newspapers. One bold and sustained effort to keep up 
 gospel means at a fixed point, though among the worst 
 dens of a great city or suburb, shall do more to root out 
 impious unbehef in its precincts, than a thousand ran- 
 dom assaults on the individuals who are misled and 
 corrupted. Such has been the experience of all who 
 thus laboured in the mighty work under Whitefield and 
 Wesley. This is our chief hope for populations like our 
 own. A single good beginning, in a smaU circle, does 
 a certain amount of this warfare against error, by estab- 
 lishing a lasting spring-head of truth and grace. But . 
 let these isolated posts become only numerous enough, 
 and the widening circle of one will touch the widening 
 circle of another, till whole districts will be so far occu- 
 pied, that the unconquered interstices will be absorbed, 
 just as the clearings of the new countries, at first mere 
 patches in the forest, few and far between, grow and 
 multiply and touch one another, and coalesce into the 
 
OUR MODERN" UNBELIEF. ^k 
 
 wide continuous civilization of agricultural territories 
 and states. We find, therefore, in the prevalence of in- 
 fidelity a new motive to attempt gospel effort. Even 
 the freethinking and unbelief of the educated and taste- 
 ful will feel the impression of a wide-spread piety among 
 the masses. Precisely in the way which has been indi- 
 cated did Christianity make its conquest of GentiHsm 
 in early times. Precisely in this way was the Reforma- 
 tion extended among our forefathers. 
 
 But you need not be told, brethren, that Christians 
 possess other weapons for the demolition of InfideHty. 
 The invention of printing has endowed the silent volume 
 with a voice which is heard not only by the assemblage 
 of a single edifice, but by tens of thousands at once. 
 And when we allude to books against atheism, deism, 
 and all varieties of unbehef, we cannot refrain from 
 naming one which ought to be known and circulated. 
 It has converted more opposers than any other ; it an- 
 swers every counter argument, and displays the entire 
 force of Christianity. I have it here ; it is the Bible. 
 Safely may it be said, that the best possible way to be 
 reclaimed from doubt and persuaded of divine certain- 
 ties, is to give a serious and candid perusal to this 
 portable volume ; just as the surest mode of being 
 aware of fight is to open the eyes upon the sun. The 
 devil, among his arsenal of devices, has this for a mas- 
 terpiece, to abstract, close, lock up, forbid, exterminate 
 the Bible. Sometimes under a red cap of anarchy, and 
 sometimes under a black cowl, he steals away or tears 
 
46 OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. 
 
 away the sacred Scriptures, from nations, from schools, 
 from individual readers; but we are not ignorant of 
 his devices. Let infidelity and superstition and hierar- 
 chy, change their tune at pleasure from wheedling to 
 fury, we will clasp this book to our hearts, we will send 
 it to our neighbour. We will multiply and cheapen 
 copies ; we will translate them into every tongue ; we 
 will despatch them on the wings of every commerce ; 
 we will carry them as angels of salvation into every 
 wilhng house. Yea, " this will we do if God permit 1 " 
 And so doing, " we will not fear, though the earth be 
 removed and though the mountains be carried into the 
 midst of the sea. There is a river, the streams whereof 
 shall make glad the city of God." 
 
 Yet, churches and Bibles depend for their efficacy on 
 the direct influences of the Holy Spirit, an agency 
 which it is part of the reigning infidelity to disbeheve, 
 but for which we will pray, as the chief hope of our sal- 
 vation. Who can tell how far the revolutionary atheism 
 of Prance might have become the established irreligion 
 of America, if it had not pleased God to make our 
 country the theatre of mighty and extensive revivals ? 
 Perhaps I address some who love to recall these awaken- 
 ings, as the scenes in which they were made to know 
 Christ. Such will join in testifying, that the pro- 
 gress of convincing and converting grace did not wait 
 for the tedious preparative of philosophic reply and 
 formal argument, but went forth to consume at once 
 and forever the difficulties of the sceptic and the cavils of 
 
OUR MODERN UNBELIEF. ^y 
 
 the deist, as the flame of a conflagration reduces com- 
 bustible obstacles in its rapid and blazing career. All 
 other means together wiQ not do so much to rid our 
 land of antichristian scoffing, as would one general com- 
 munication of power from on high. Increased prayer 
 for this fresh dispensation is the duty of the Church. 
 This is the defensive means which Satan and his hosts 
 dread, while they cannot emulate. They can blas- 
 pheme, they can argue, they can fight, they can write 
 books, and, if need be, quote Scripture for their pur- 
 pose; but pray they cannot. Our word should be, 
 " Let God arise, let his enemies be scattered ; let them 
 also that hate him, flee before him." Ps. Ixviii. 1. The 
 more we recognise the devices of the enemy, the more 
 should we gather around the footstool of Him who will 
 shortly bruise Satan under our feet. " In meekness, 
 instructing those that oppose themselves ; if God, per- 
 adventure, will give them repentance to the acknow- 
 ledgment of the truth; and that they may recover 
 themselves out of the snare of the devil, who are taken 
 captive by him at his will." 
 
II. 
 
 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 
 
THE 
 
 DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY.* 
 
 2 Tim. ii. 19. 
 "He cannot deny himself." 
 
 It is of God that these words are spoken; and 
 they constitute one of those divine maxims which He 
 among the very fomidations of truth, and are fitted to 
 be our guide and corrective in every part of theology. 
 The apostle Paul argues, that however we may disbe- 
 heve, God remains faithful, because he cannot deny him- 
 self, that is, he cannot be untrue to his own nature. 
 This seems plain enough at the first statement, needing 
 no demonstration, a self-evident proposition, almost a 
 truism ; yet it admits of being pondered over and un- 
 folded ; and it is the more needful to enlarge upon it, 
 
 * New York, December 17, 1848. » 
 
52 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 
 
 because in many of its practical applications it is con- 
 stantly denied. 
 
 The Being and Attributes of God are the basis of 
 all theology. We can never be right on lesser points, 
 when we are wrong here. This makes it greatly im- 
 portant for us to have some clear and settled belief re- 
 specting Him whom we worship. Every religious error 
 may be traced up more or less directly to some miscon- 
 ception and unbelief respecting the character of God. 
 And we need the less marvel at the prevalence of such 
 errors, when we consider how few deliberately and lov- 
 ingly think of God at all, and how even the best and 
 holiest of men faint in their contemplations, finding it 
 easier to study creatures than the Creator ; which makes 
 it a concern of every one of us to attain some adequate 
 notions on a subject which is fitted to arrange, preserve 
 and regulate all our other knowledge. Let no one 
 complain of us as adducing what is abstract, recondite, 
 and far from the track of ordinary thought and duty. 
 For what can be nearer to us than He who formed us, 
 in whom we live and move and have our being ? Or 
 what can be more profitable than that which has its 
 direct bearing on every other part of the Christian 
 scheme? We shall not therefore lose anytime, if we 
 wisely meditate on this consistency of God with him- 
 self, or the adorable harmony of all his perfections. 
 
 The subject will become more distinct, if we con- 
 sider the truth, that we are constrained to think of 
 God as an infinitely perfect Being. In this the true 
 
THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 53 
 
 God separates himself by an immeasurable gulf from 
 all the cliviuities of polytheism. He is One, and he is 
 absolute. When we think of that which has any im- 
 perfections, we are not thinking of God. Much of our 
 conception of God is arrived at by a negative process ; 
 that is, by denying of the Most High every thing which 
 is faulty or imperfect. We take those qualities, for ex- 
 ample, which are included in our idea of God, and lift 
 each of these up to an infinite sublimity. Is it Being ? 
 We immediately, justly, and by a sort of logical instinct, 
 think of that Being which has no imperfections. It is 
 therefore unlimited being, for all limitation implies 
 weakness, dependence, or subordination. It is immen- 
 sity of being. Por the same reason it is independent 
 being ; because, on whom or what can it depend ? It 
 is necessary existence ; God cannot but be, and be what 
 he is. In like manner, when we conceive of God as a 
 Spirit, and arrive at the apprehension of him as an In- 
 telligence, the mind naturally and irresistibly proceeds 
 to divest this idea of all the defects and limitations 
 which belong to creatures. It is infinite Knowledge, 
 supreme Reason, absolute Wisdom. The laws of our 
 very thinking demand this. Any thing less than this 
 falls short of God. The same mode of illustration 
 might be derived from each of the Divine attributes, 
 which for this very cause we are accustomed to call per- 
 fections. Por if we worshipped a being who had any 
 even the least imperfection, then would he not be Su- 
 preme, not the Highest and Best ; yet every man is 
 
54 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 
 
 conscious that when he is searching for God, if, haply, 
 he may find him, he cannot rest content, except when 
 supposing the acme of excellence. Take away any 
 the least ray of glory, and it is no longer the deity 
 you seek, for above and beyond this Hmited and imper- 
 fect divinity you can conceive of one all perfection; 
 and this is what reason demands in the true God. So 
 true is this, namely, that the idea of God includes that 
 of infinite perfection, that we perpetually employ it as 
 a medium of investigation and a corrective of our con- 
 clusions. Having found out a httle concerning the 
 dread Supreme, we render that little valuable, by de- 
 nying of it all imperfection and removing from it all 
 boundaries. Let me not be considered abstruse ; for the 
 principle alluded to is both important and very precious, 
 and is, I am persuaded, level to the ordinary hearer, 
 who will yield his attention. We might illustrate it 
 by any one of the Divine attributes. Suppose we take 
 one of the most undeniable. As soon as we conceive of 
 God as the Creator and Preserver of all material nature, 
 we attribute to him a presence with all his works. But 
 the invincible disposition, just stated, to remove all 
 limits and imperfections from God, causes us at once to 
 make this presence Omnipresence. There is no point in 
 his dominion where he is not. But the same mode of 
 reasoning leads us further still. The presence of crea- 
 tures is divisible ; that is, each is partly in one place 
 and partly in another ; and the vaster they are, the more 
 divisible. Por example, the solar system is present in 
 
THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. XX 
 
 a certain dimension of space ; but part is here and 
 part is there, and between the extremes is a distance 
 which, to our poor measurement, seems infinite, as it is 
 certainly immense. Not such is the presence of God. 
 This mode of presence which we ascribe to the stellar 
 universe, has two imperfections ; one from being matter 
 and the other from being creature. God is not present 
 in any divisible sense, because he is indivisible. He is 
 not partly here and partly there ; there is not one part 
 of God in heaven and another here and yet another in 
 the planet Saturn ; because God is without all parts. 
 We are forced, therefore, by a necessity of reason, to 
 fell upon a new kind of presence, a presence which is 
 unique, without example or parallel, to meet the con- 
 ditions of Omnipresence. God is then all-present at 
 every point of the universe, at one and the same time. 
 All there is of God (I speak reverently) is fully in every 
 place in his dominions, at one and the same instant ; 
 and this because we attribute to him the absence of all 
 imperfection, such as division would be. So strong is 
 our rational determination to abstract all fault and all 
 limit from our idea of the Most High. This Omni- 
 presence of God has its difficulties. Would we desire 
 a God whose nature should have no depths ? It is a 
 mystery. It transcends our discursive understanding ; 
 yet we believe it ; all but Atheists beheve it ; we can- 
 not but beheve it : sound reason compels us to beheve, 
 however difficult it may be, that of which the contrary 
 is self-contradictory or absurd. And let me step aside 
 
56 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 
 
 from the direct line of inquiry to say, that sound reason 
 in the same way allows us to believe other mysteries 
 which we cannot fully comprehend, such as the Trinity 
 and the Incarnation. But we return to observe, that 
 everywhere in theological science we hold fast to the 
 first principle, that nothing must be affirmed of God 
 which does not belong to the idea of an infinitely per- 
 fect being ; which brings the subject directly under the 
 general proposition of the text. He cannot deny him- 
 self; he must be true to his nature ; nothing can be 
 asserted of him which is inconsistent with absolute 
 perfection. 
 
 AVe advance hardly a single step, when we say, that 
 all the Attributes of God are in perfect harmony with 
 one another. If any one were discordant with the rest, 
 or with any other, God would therein deny himself. Our 
 best and clearest vicAVs of the Great Supreme are poor 
 and inadequate. There is a sublime and absolute sim- 
 plicity in God, which we, from weakness, must take 
 severally and by parts. Thus, when we survey some 
 heavenly orb, no astronomic skill enables us to behold 
 it at one view. We wait for its motion, and watch how 
 it revolves before us, and catch a glimpse of side after 
 side. The ray of light is one; but in the prismatic 
 spectrum and in the rainbow, we see it parted into hues ; 
 while the violet, the indigo, the blue, the green, the yel- 
 low, the orange, and the red, seen dispersed in the 
 showery arch, are one sunbeam. So of the infinite and 
 primeval Light, all the perfections are glimpses of the 
 
THE DR^IXE PERFECTIONS IN HARMOXY. 
 
 57 
 
 same indivisible unity. All the attributes are phases of 
 one and the same Divine orb. The seeming variety, and 
 still more, the sometimes seeming contradiction, arise 
 from the incapacity of our vision. All are in perfect 
 harmony, and. whatsoever violates this harmony, by ex- 
 alting one attribute at the expense of another, wars mth 
 the maxim, that he cannot deny himself. This modifi- 
 cation in the statement of the great principle allows us 
 to apply it to a diversity of interesting particulars. Let 
 us briefly make the attempt. And for a beginning, we 
 need not go further than the suggestions of the text 
 itself. He cannot deny himself. What ! the inconside- 
 rate will rejoin ; and is there any thing which God 
 cannot do ? He can do all things ; for is he not Om- 
 nipotent? Of a truth, God is Omnipotent. At this 
 truth we arrive, even by natural religion, and on the 
 principle already adopted by us, which removes all 
 limits and asserts all perfection. So soon as we admit 
 a Creator, that is, one of power sufficient to make and 
 sustain the Universe, we run on by a happy necessity of 
 reason, and ascribe to him all conceivable power. Every 
 sane mind, in its reflective moments, does so. Here 
 the Christian agrees with the serious Deist. Every 
 thing included in power, in infinite power, belongs un- 
 deniably to God. This is a fixed point, and whatever 
 denies this, errs, by making God deny himself. 
 
 But, does it therefore follow, that in respect to the 
 Most High, there is nothing that can be called impossi- 
 bility, in any sense ? How prone is poor human under- 
 
58 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 
 
 standing to play tricks upon itself, and to involve its 
 limited faculties in the meshes of entangling words. 
 This was the fault of the Schoolmen, or Latin theolo- 
 gians of the Middle Age. Never were there minds 
 more keen and subtle, but they dulled the edge of their 
 nice faculties upon questions which are impracticable. 
 They debated, for example, whether God could cause 
 the same thing to be and not to be, at the same time ; 
 whether he could cease to exist ; whether he could create 
 two mountains without a valley between, or a triangle 
 with more or less than three sides. These are the rid- 
 dles of childish understanding. When we ascribe power 
 to God, we do not mean an attribute which is at war 
 with his other perfections ; we mean, as aforesaid, 
 nothing incompatible with the subhme and infinite idea. 
 God can do all that is properly an object of power. 
 Those absurd and contradictory suppositions include no 
 object of power. They demand no might, greater or 
 less. He who should do them, would be neither stronger 
 nor weaker for the achievement. They imply no ex- 
 cellence and savour of no perfection. They are incon- 
 ceivable ; the mind can frame no notion of what they 
 are ; a jargon of words without a sense. There is, 
 therefore, that which God cannot do ; because he can- 
 not deny himself. 
 
 But some, while they avoid the foUy of such de- 
 mands as these, fall upon another, less ridiculous, but 
 equally full of danger. Because God is almighty, say 
 they, he can destroy all the sin and misery in the Uni- 
 
THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 59 
 
 verse ; and therefore, lie will eventually save all mankind, 
 and make aU creatures happy. I would not introduce 
 this, if it were not one of those suggestions which, at 
 one time or other, find lodgment in every human mind. 
 Here is a strange mixture of truth and falsehood, which 
 must be carefully dissected apart. God can do aU 
 things ; in this we are perfectly agreed. But it is not 
 a just inference, that he will do all that he can. 
 Whether, and in what cases, he shaU exert his omnipo- 
 tence, is to be determined by other perfections, which 
 he wiU not and cannot deny. Looking to the future, do 
 we venture to predict, that an Omnipotent Ci^ator and 
 Governor will make every creature happy ? But if we 
 take a point before the creation of man, and suppose an 
 angehc spirit to be speculating on the probable fortunes 
 of our race, is it not certain that he would have predict- 
 ed a world without sin and mthout misery ? Would he 
 not say, the Almighty can prevent the introduction of 
 sin, and he will ! Yet, how false would have been such 
 a determination ! The answer is in the fact. Sin and 
 misery do exist. Our earth has been scarred, and burnt, 
 and drenched, by crime, and war, and famine, and pes- 
 tilence, and earthquakes. Our faculties are too scanty 
 for the resolution of such high problems. That it was 
 within the power of God to create a universe into which 
 sin could not enter, no sound reasoner can deny. Yet, 
 he did create a universe into which sin has actually 
 entered. He is in no sense the author of that sin ; and 
 yet he did not prevent it. Such is the fact. No man 
 
gQ THE DITINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 
 
 has ever denied it. Must we not conclude, that there 
 are limits, not to the power, but to the exercise of 
 power ? The Wisdom, the Holiness, the Justice of 
 God, all perfections which must be honoured, came in 
 with awful majesty, to produce results which poor, short- 
 sighted man cannot comprehend. He cannot deny 
 himself. 
 
 Let us look again at the text, and in regard to the 
 same attribute. There are those things which God can- 
 not do. As, in another place, " God, that cannot lie." 
 Why not ? Because he is infinitely holy, and infinitely 
 true ; because falsehood would militate against these at- 
 tributes; because he cannot deny himself. The ina- 
 bility arises from his moral nature. He cannot be un- 
 true or unholy, because this were to cease to be God. 
 Every thing within us rises up against such a supposi- 
 tion. The infinite Jehovah, then, has no capacity of evil ; 
 and this, from that very perfection of his nature, which 
 we love to assert and press. We must beware, there- 
 fore, how we lightly ascribe to God those things which 
 may suit our narrow prepossessions, lest unwittingly we 
 offend against some of his blessed attributes. And 
 hence we learn how closely we should adhere to the 
 teachings of Scripture, in respect to what God will or 
 will not do, in his government or his grace, since we 
 know little of his plan and purpose, except what he has 
 vouchsafed to express in the Scriptures. Secret things 
 belong unto God, but such as are revealed unto us 
 and our children. And we must continually cherish a 
 
THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. gl 
 
 reverent determination to indulge no thought of God, 
 which shall be discordant with his. glorious and often 
 inscrutable perfections. Let it stand high inscribed on 
 our whole fabric of derived truth, that he is eternally 
 and immutably consistent with himself. 
 
 There are other applications of this cardinal truth, 
 which will at once occur to the thoughtful mind. As 
 God cannot deny himself, we must shun the error of 
 derogating from his Wisdom, Holiness, Truth, and 
 Justice, under the pretext of adding lustre to his Mercy. 
 A neglect here has led many into grave errors with re- 
 gard to Atonement, Satisfaction, and Justification. If 
 God were all mercy, no Atonement would be necessary. 
 But, " a God all mercy were a God unjust." He is full 
 of mercy, and out of this fulness flows the tide of redemp- 
 tion ; but in such wise as to preserve the honour of his law^ 
 untarnished. He cannot deny his law ; he cannot deny his 
 justice ; he cannot deny his threatenings of truth. Of his 
 infinite compassion, he will save the lost ; but it shall be in 
 such a way as shall make his other glories more illustrious. 
 It is the sublime necessity of harmonizing these other- 
 wise conflicting traits of Divine majesty, which calls for 
 the exercise of that grace, " wherein he hath abounded 
 toward us in all wisdom and prudence ;" " to the intent 
 that now unto the principalities and powers in heavenly 
 places might be known by the Church the manifold wis- 
 dom of God." He cannot deny his Wisdom. It is 
 made to subserve the vindication of the law. Does a 
 bhnd and condemned rebel ask that sinners should be 
 
Q2 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 
 
 pardoned without a satisfaction ? Such is not God's 
 method. This were to prostrate Justice and the Law 
 in the very dust. How different a course does infinite 
 Wisdom prescribe ! How different a lesson do we read 
 in the crimson spectacle of the Cross ! Mercy is grati- 
 fied, but Justice triumphs, " to the praise of the glory 
 of the grace wherein we are accepted in the Beloved." 
 God denies neither his Justice nor his Mercy. And 
 why ? Because the Word is made flesh, and the Only- 
 Begotten of the Father dies upon the tree. " Die he, or 
 justice must." And around this awful, fascinating, 
 transforming sight, we behold all the attributes in per- 
 fect harmony, and God immutably true to himself. The 
 principle of the text shines illustriously in the whole 
 work of redemption ; and the more we study the char- 
 acter of Jehovah, the more shall we learn that the divine 
 consistency of this character made it impossible that sin 
 should be pardoned, unless Christ should bear " our 
 sins in his own body on the tree." But the same 
 union of perfections in the Divine nature presents itself 
 in an alarming view, when we consider the condition of 
 those who reject God's chosen plan of salvation. The 
 soul that passes into eternity without an interest in 
 Christ's atoning work, faces the unmitigated blaze of 
 vindicatory law. The Cross being neglected, there re- 
 mains no more sacrifice for sin. Justice, no less than 
 mercy, has its place for appropriate triumph. God will 
 fulfil his utmost threatenings ; for he cannot deny him- 
 self. On whatsoever side, then, we look, we observe 
 
THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. gg 
 
 the beautiful and inviolate harmony which subsists 
 among all the perfections of God. In conclusion, I 
 would point out a few lessons which may be derived 
 from the truths on which we have meditated. 
 
 1. The subject aids us to compare and settle our 
 minds, in regard to what may be called the difficulties 
 of Scripture and theology. These all arise from our ig- 
 norance, and our inabihty to fathom the mysteries of the 
 Divine Nature. As in our best estate on earth, " we 
 know in part," and see through a glass darkly, some 
 of these enigmas must remain unexplained, so long as 
 we are in the body. The only part of wisdom is to bow 
 with profound reverence to whatever is revealed, even 
 though we may be incompetent to reconcile it with other 
 truths. ' Thus saith the Lord,' ought to allay all doubts. 
 Philosophy has wearied itself for ages, in the attempt to 
 reconcile the existence of physical evil with God's holi- 
 ness and goodness ; but not the slightest advance has 
 been made in the explanation. ' Why did God permit 
 the fall ?' is a question which can never be ansAvered, 
 but by humbling our minds before the general consid- 
 eration, that divine reasons of state are beyond our ken ; 
 that some of God's attributes may demand a course of 
 government beyond all our expectation ; that his wis- 
 dom is infallible as his love is immense ; and that what- 
 ever he ordains or allows, is agreeable to the concord of 
 those perfections which we at awful distance revere and 
 worship. The same is true with regard to the fearful 
 doom of the wicked. The finally impenitent shall go 
 
54 THE DIVINE PERFECTIOXS IX HARMONY. 
 
 away into everlasting fire, prepared for the devil and his 
 angels. The smoke of their torment goeth up forever 
 and ever. We are incompetent to decide on the grounds 
 of this undeniable sentence ; just as we are unable to 
 explain the incalculable amount of sin and misery now 
 actually existing on earth. We do not comprehend the 
 infinite depths of evil there are in sin ; we cannot esti- 
 mate the glory which shall redound to God from the 
 never-ceasing display of his inflexible justice ; we know 
 not how far such an exhibition of wrath may tend to 
 the increased sum of happiness, in all the remaining in- 
 teUigent universe. The problem will one day be solved. 
 What we know not now, we shall know hereafter. This 
 and all inscrutable facts and doctrines shall be seen to 
 have their ground in some perfection of God, or in the 
 harmony of all his perfections. We may safely leave the 
 matter in such hands. God is love ; and there is no 
 one of his decrees which is not prompted by infinite 
 benevolence. We may not see the connexion or con- 
 sistency, in all cases, but this is conclusive — He cannot 
 deny himself. 
 
 2. The truth we have been considering, may en- 
 courage us to commit the whole matter of our salvation 
 to God with implicit confidence. A man needs a strong 
 foundation on which to lean his everlasting interests. 
 Ordinary securities will not avail here. When storms 
 assail our hope, and unnumbered sins arise to irritate 
 our conscience, and the dreadful justice of God is array- 
 ed against us, especially if all this happens when death 
 
THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. ^5 
 
 is in view, we need sometliing more than vague expec- 
 tation or mere probability. The true basis of trust is 
 found in the character of God ; and this is all-sufficient. 
 It is the part of revelation to make this known to us. 
 It is the part of faith to rely upon it. The constancy 
 and immutability of God are the ground of our security. 
 If he were changeful, the Universe would be a hell. 
 How ready we should be to fly into despair or madness, 
 if the God in whoAi we trust were uncertain and capri- 
 cious, like the divinities of the Gentiles ? But he says, 
 " I am Jehovah, I change not, therefore ye sons of 
 Jacob are not consumed." * So changeable and capri- 
 cious are we, that if our salvation depended on om* 
 abiding constant for an hour, we should inevitably be 
 lost. But though we " believe not," or are unfaithful, 
 he is faithful. Especially may we rely on his covenant 
 engagements, from which he will not draw back. His 
 truth is confirmed by repeated asseverations ; " wherein 
 God, willing more abundantly to show unto the heirs of 
 promise the immutability of his counsel, confirmed it by 
 an oath ; that by two immutable things, in which it was 
 impossible for God to lie, we might have a strong con- 
 solation, who have fled for refuge to lay hold on the 
 hope set before us." How refreshing is it, to look away 
 from the endless vicissitudes of om- own hearts, which 
 ebb and flow like the sea, and wax and wane like the 
 moon, to Him who is immutable, and whose decrees of 
 
 * Mai. iii. 6. 
 
QQ THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 
 
 love are as firm as his very being. In disheartening 
 hours, our greatest repose is obtained, by hfting the soul 
 to One who in Jesus Christ is the same yesterday, to- 
 day and forever. I put it to Christian hearers, above 
 all, to such as are habitually prone to write bitter things 
 against themselves, whether they are not more ready to 
 ascribe constancy and immutability to God's justice, 
 than to his grace. Yet, he can no more be unfaithful 
 to one than to the other. Only make sure of an inter- 
 est in his covenant, by connexion with the Lord Jesus 
 Christ, and your salvation is as firm as the throne of 
 eternity. We read the threatenings, and quake because 
 He is unchangeable. Let us read the promises, and be- 
 lieve that heaven and earth shall pass away, before one 
 jot or one tittle of his gracious engagements shall fail. 
 He cannot deny himself; he cannot deny his Son. We 
 have a Surety, in his nature and in ours, who shall make 
 good every article of the eternal treaty. And how re- 
 splendent will this glory of grace shine forth in " that 
 day," when the elect jewels shall be made up, without 
 one loss, even of the faintest creature who ever behoved, 
 and when every vault of the heavenly city shall ring 
 to the honour of Him who is forever true to his own 
 nature ! 
 
 3. In every moment of Hfe, we learn fi-om this sub- 
 ject to look up to the harmonious attributes of God, 
 with profound adoration and lively affection. The ob- 
 ject is glorious, and, above all others, deserves our con- 
 templation. He is one and the same. The changes of 
 
THE DIYINE PERFECTIONS m HARMONY. Q^ 
 
 time and creatures are but the trifling waves which 
 keep up their noisy flow at the base of this Eternal Rock. 
 He was infinitely true to himself before time began ; 
 such will he be when time shall be no more. Every 
 one of those adorable perfections remains in plenitude 
 of majesty, and all in blissful concord with each other. 
 " He is the Rock, his work is perfect : for aU his ways are 
 judgment : a God of truth, and without iniquity : just 
 and right is he ! " There are times when the wavering 
 soul needs recourse to such thoughts. There are wars 
 and tumults among the people. Nation rises against 
 nation. Iniquity abounds, and the love of many waxes 
 cold. The cause of truth and righteousness seems to 
 tremble ; and unbelief suggests that the plan of heaven 
 has changed or been frustrated. But aU these muta- 
 tions are but a faint ripple on the surface of the sea of 
 things. "The Lord reigneth, let the earth rejoice." 
 The principles of his government are more settled than 
 the everlasting mountains. "The Lord sitteth upon 
 the flood ; yea, the Lord sitteth king forever." Great 
 calamities startle a whole population. A gallant ship is 
 labouring in the tempestuous deep. Stout-hearted men 
 quiver with apprehension ; veterans who have stood at 
 the cannon's mouth yield to awe before the raging ele- 
 ments, and the cry of panic-struck women and children 
 ascends amidst the crash of timbers and the ruthless 
 brawling of the storm. The mountain billow makes its 
 clear sweep over the deck, and whole bands plunge 
 through the wintry, strangling surge, into eternity. 
 
53 THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 
 
 Has God closed his eyes upon his creatures? Nay, 
 blind insect of yesterday ; it is He who orders all. He 
 is true to his justice, and true to his mercy. " Thy 
 throne is established of old, thou art from everlasting. 
 The floods have lifted up, O Lord, the floods have lift- 
 ed up their voice ; the floods lift up their waves. The 
 Lord on high is mightier than the noise of many waters, 
 yea, than the mighty waves of the sea." However he 
 may send the stroke of death, which he sends to all, 
 "just and right is he ! " He cannot deny himself. Be 
 this our anchor, when in regard to our own little per- 
 sonal affkirs, the billows threaten to overwhelm us. 
 They cannot reach the throne of our God, nor change 
 the settled purposes of his love. Clouds and darkness 
 are round about him, but righteousness and justice are 
 the habitation of his throne. Sometimes, if we could 
 look into his heart, we should discern paternal compas- 
 sion behind the Hfted rod. Let us rejoice that he is, 
 and such as he is. Let us glory that he changeth not. 
 Let us summon our thoughts away from all creatm^es 
 and all second causes, to dwell on the throne that cannot 
 be moved. Though all else fail, it is well with us if 
 God remains. See to it that he is yours. Hazard not 
 the consequences of being found in the way of his ad- 
 vancing vengeance. His covenant of grace is sure, but 
 his justice is as irrevocable as his love is fathomless. 
 Now, in this temporal state, the offer is made, to change 
 our relation, and from enemies to become friends. But 
 presently, a trumpet shall sound, to tell that parley is 
 
THE DIVINE PERFECTIONS IN HARMONY. 59 
 
 over, and that what remaiiis is arrest, adjudication, 
 doom 1 O, saint ! O, sinner ! in that hour, it is near, 
 heaven will stand vindicated, thy destiny sealed, thy 
 heaven or hell made eternal. Eor he cannot deny 
 himself! . 
 
III. 
 
 DIVINE PBOVIDENCE IN PARTICULABS. 
 
DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PAETIOULARS.* 
 
 Matthew x. 30. 
 " But the very hairs of your head are all numbered." 
 
 The subject to be treated from these words is that 
 of a particular providence. And by a particular provi- 
 dence, we mean a divine care, unceasingly bestowed on 
 all creatures and aU their actions ; on things heavenly 
 and things sublunary ; whether small or great, whether 
 good or evil; whether natural or moral; whether 
 necessary or free ; so that nothing can occur in the 
 universe which is not immediately governed by Om- 
 nipotence. The Epicureans feigned a deity who takes 
 no cognizance of creatures. The followers of Aristotle 
 seem to have confined the divine regards only to celes- 
 tial things. The Pelagians withdraw from the rule of 
 
 * Princeton, January 2, 1855. * 
 
74 DIYINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 
 
 God all free actions of moral beings ; and men of the 
 world, professing no philosophical creed in particular, 
 entertain a vague notion of some general oversight 
 which the Supreme Intelligence exercises since creation, 
 while they practically deny any such special care as we 
 have just asserted. It is of vast importance that our 
 minds be firmly settled on this fundamental point. 
 Generalities will not suffice, when we sustain the shock 
 of great and sudden afflictions. As the doctrine of 
 chance is the most absurd and cheerless of aU human 
 tenets, so any approach to it, by withdrawing a part of 
 aU events from the circle of God's plan, tends to hesita- 
 tion, darkness, and misery. For which part shall we so 
 withdraw ? What objects and what acts shaU we aban- 
 don to the fortuitous concussion of circumstances ? Or 
 if this could be determined, how shall we be assured 
 that the particulars in which we affirm God to have no 
 concern, are not the very ones on which our highest 
 happiness hinges ? In opposition to aU such irrational 
 hypotheses, we maintain that he who firmly behoves in 
 a universal providence, extending to every hair, and 
 who feels accordingly, has arrived at the true secret of 
 a happy life. 
 
 We argue a particular providence fi'om a particular 
 creation. That which God has deigned to make, he will 
 condescend to care for ; and that which he has made in 
 aU its minutest details, he may, without derogation from 
 his infinite majesty, continue to sustain and govern even 
 in its least members and motions. The instance 
 
DIVINE PROVIDENCE INT PARTICULARS. J^ 
 
 chosen by our Lord is among the most light and impalpa- 
 ble of all objects connected with the human frame. Yet, 
 under the glass of the microscopic anatomist, the single 
 hair presents wonders of structure and adaptation which 
 no human hand can reproduce or imitate. Indeed, the 
 further down we go into the interior recesses of nature, 
 all invisible to the naked eye, the more amazing become 
 the revelations of power, and skUl, and goodness. So 
 that the very antennae of the fly that annoys our slum- 
 ber, the dust of the downy fruit, and the volatile pollen 
 of the lily or the rose, awaken new adoration of Him 
 who is 7naximus in minimis, greatest in that which seems 
 least. Take any inch-square of the ground we tread 
 on ; and to the eye of reverent science, it is a world 
 teeming with wonders. Nor do we observe any tend- 
 ency to a termination of these wonders, or any Hmit of 
 this creative ingenuity, though we press our investiga- 
 tion to the utmost length which adventurous observation 
 can reach with its most elaborate, costly, and recent ap- 
 pliances. The finger of Omnipotence is still before us ; 
 tracing contours of beauty, adding lustrous hues far 
 beyond the reach of human gaze, weaving tissues, con- 
 veying tides of circulation, and adjusting forces with 
 mathematical exactness, in the filament of the tiniest 
 floweret, and the organ of the evanescent animalcule. 
 Now, that which it was not unworthy of creative power 
 to make, it is not unworthy of providential care to up- 
 hold and govern. Our scale of measurement on this 
 subject is arbitrary and partial. We knov7 httle of 
 
iJQ DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 
 
 great or small, as applied to the works of the Almighty. 
 In his eye, there may be as much value in the Hving 
 mote, that scarcely darkens our vision, as in the levia- 
 than of the hoary waters. And here, let me deviate, if 
 it be not in the direct line of our argument, to expose 
 the emptiness of that flippant reasoning of half-philoso- 
 phy, which sometimes makes bold to jeer at our doc- 
 trine, that all things were made for some good end. 
 These laughing sages demand of us for what purpose 
 the contemptible insect, which flits across our path or 
 alights on our persons, was created. Let it be a suc- 
 cessful and triumphant reply to ignorant and imperti- 
 nent scofling, that an infinitely benevolent Creator, be- 
 sides other reasons unknown to us, has had sufficient 
 reason for the production of wondrous living mechan- 
 isms, in the securing of happiness to the being itself, 
 which thus stands forth as a small but animated argu- 
 ment of the divine goodness. On this point, I gladly 
 borrow from the sometimes erroneous, but, here, incom- 
 parable Paley ; " The air, the earth, the water, teem with 
 dehghted existence. In a spring noon, or a summer 
 evening, on whichever side I turn my eyes, myriads of 
 happy beings crowd upon my view. ^ The insect youth 
 are on the wing.' Swarms of new-born flies are tiying 
 their pinions in the air. Their sportive motions, their 
 wanton mazes, their gratuitous activity, their continual 
 change of place without use or purpose, testify their 
 joy, and the exultation which they feel in their lately 
 discovered faculties. A bee amongst the flowers in 
 
DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. i^J 
 
 spring, is one of the most cheerful objects that can be 
 looked upon. Its life appears to be all enjoyment : so 
 busy and so pleased ; yet it is only a specimen of insect 
 life, with which, by reason of the animal being half do- 
 mesticated, we happen to be better acquainted than we 
 are with that of others. The whole winged insect tribe, 
 it is probable, are equally intent upon, their proper em- 
 ployments ; and, under every variety of constitution, gra- 
 tified, and perhaps equally gratified, by the ofiices which 
 the Author of their nature has assigned to them.'' — 
 " Walking by the sea-side, in a calm evening, upon a 
 sandy shore, and with an ebbing tide, I have frequent- 
 ly remarked the appearance of a dark cloud, or rather 
 very thick mist, hanging over the edge of the water, to 
 the height perhaps of half a yard, and of the breadth of 
 two or three yards, stretching along the coast as far as 
 the eye could reach, and always retiring with the water. 
 When this cloud came to be examined, it proved to be 
 nothing else than so much space, filled with young 
 shrimps, in the act of bounding into the air from the 
 shallow margin of the water, or from the wet sand. If 
 any motion of a mute animal could express delight, it 
 was this ; if they had meant to make signs of their hap- 
 piness, they could not have done it more inteUigibly, 
 Suppose, then, what I have no doubt of, each individual 
 of this number to be in a state of positive enjoyment, 
 what a sum, collectively, of gratification and pleasure 
 have we here before our view." * 
 
 * Natural Theology. 
 
78 DIVINE PROYIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 
 
 In conformity with this, we believe with pleasure 
 that whatsoever God has made, even to the smallest de- 
 tails, he continues to preserve and regulate. Provi- 
 dence has sometimes been considered as a continued 
 creation; but more properly, as the constant will of 
 God to maintain the being of that which he has created. 
 For there is no innate power of self-sustentation in the 
 creature ; and if God were to withdraw his power, all 
 that he has made would collapse into its original nothing. 
 Being is too sublime an endowment to own any other 
 source, even for an instant, than that which first gave 
 it. We are to look on nature in its minutest varieties, 
 and having God perpetually standing by it, upholding 
 and guiding. In this there is nothing low and nothing 
 wearisome. Omnipotence is equally unexhausted in 
 driving whole stellar systems through their awful incal- 
 culable trajectories, and in supporting the gossamer that 
 floats over our autumnal fields. The reason of creation 
 thus becomes the reason of providence, and we exult in 
 the truth, as sublime as it is consolatory, that the hairs 
 of our head are all numbered. 
 
 After this preamble, we argue particular providence 
 from the express teachings of Scripture. Here it will 
 be necessary to use selection. First, we open upon pas- 
 sages which ascribe to God the wielding and governance 
 of all things in general. As where Nehemiah prays : 
 ix. 6, " Thou, even thou, art Jehovah alone ; thou hast 
 made heaven, the heaven of heavens, with all their host, 
 the earth and all things therein, and thou preservest 
 
DIVINE PROVIDENCE m PARTICULARS. 79 
 
 them all." As when Paul, at the Areopagus, challeng- 
 ing the assent of even a heathen auditory, says, " Though 
 he be not far from every one of us ; for in him we hve, 
 and move, and have our being." As when, Heb. i. 3, 
 the Son of God is represented as " upholding all things 
 by the word of his power." But passages of this sort 
 are numerous and famihar. Next we meet with places 
 where this very particularity of providence is explicitly 
 asserted. Thus the smallest as well as the greatest ob- 
 jects are referred to his care ; as in our text, and in that 
 beautiful and parallel instance, " Are not two sparrows 
 sold for a farthing ? and one of them shall not fall on 
 the ground without your Father." Or, where he chides 
 the distrust of disciples as to food and raiment, by 
 pointing to hhes and birds, arrayed and fed by God ; 
 in other words, the objects of his careful providence. 
 The very insects, used by the sceptic for his ill-timed 
 jests, were fearfully employed in vengeance among the 
 plagues of Egypt ; and at a later day, the locust, the 
 palmer- worm and the caterpillar, are marshalled by him 
 in battle-array against a guilty land, while he says, Joel 
 ii. 11, " And Jehovah shall utter his voice before his 
 army ; for his camp is very great." 
 
 But this Providence of God includes in its range a 
 nobler class of creatures, even those which are rational 
 and immortal. These, with aU their thoughts, affec- 
 tions, and acts, are parts of his marvellous plan. In- 
 deed, if these were excluded, there could be nothing in 
 the doctrine of Providence which could afford us any 
 
go DIVINE PROYIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 
 
 contentment. It were a mockery to tell us that we 
 should have safety by the hand of Omnipotence, in re- 
 gard to the powers of irrational nature ; but that in all 
 that concerns the free or the wicked actions of men, we 
 must rely on ourselves or on chance. It were a crippled 
 and insufficient providence which should guard me 
 against the serpent or the tornado, but which should 
 leave me to myself the moment a moral and responsible 
 agent came upon the stage. Yet, this is the strange, 
 uncomfortable doctrine which prompts the language 
 heard in many a Christian circle. Which of us has not 
 listened to such words as these? "I could bear this 
 trial, if it were ordered of God, but it proceeds from 
 man. It is not providential, but from wicked human 
 beings." There is in this a sad confusion. Such a 
 government as is here assumed, would be no providence 
 at all ; and would render aU rule impossible, as exclud- 
 ing those very agencies which are most important. And 
 I return to say, that the Bible teaches no such doctrine. 
 While it abhors the thought of making God the author 
 of sin, it does not exclude sinful acts from his wise and 
 holy plan. While it evermore denies God's participa- 
 tion in the evil of wicked deeds, it still asserts, that in 
 the directing and governing of such deeds, there is a 
 sovereign providence, working out its own wise and 
 holy ends. " Man's goings are of the Lord ; how then 
 can a. man understand his own way ? " "A man's heart 
 deviseth his way, but the Lord directeth his steps." 
 The wrath of man shall praise him, and the remainder 
 
DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. g^ 
 
 of wrath He will restrain. Let it be clearly fixed in 
 our minds, as the only true philosophy of this subject, 
 that an act may be wicked, as to the intent of its agent, 
 and yet its result may be really intended by God. 
 Were it not so, we could have no relief under our worst 
 suflPerings, namely, those which we endure from depraved 
 and malignant human creatures. But these also are 
 providential. Joseph's brethren committed a great sin. 
 This none can deny, so far as they were concerned. 
 Yet was it strictly and particularly providential : " So 
 now it was not you that sent me hither, but God." 
 " God did send me before you to preserve hfe." " Ye 
 thought evil against me, but God meant it unto good." 
 Here is particular providence, in regard to free and 
 wicked acts. Other instances in point will occur to the 
 memory of the scriptural student. Especially the great 
 and striking case of our Lord's arrest and death ; in- 
 tensely wicked as to its free perpetrators, yet a part of 
 God's providential scheme for the salvation of mankind. 
 We cannot on any principle of reason escape from this 
 great and most consolatory truth. The dependence of 
 the creature upon the Creator enforces it. As man is 
 suspended absolutely on God for his being and his life, 
 so also is he dependent on him for his power to act, and 
 for the acts themselves. If for the body, then yet more 
 for the soul, the nobler part. Conceive of a being inde- 
 pendent of God in acting, and you infer a being inde- 
 pendent also in essence. But if he is dependent, then 
 is he in all his actions brought within the circle of prov- 
 
 6 
 
82 DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 
 
 idential ordering. And surely there can be derived 
 neither peace nor profit from the doctrine, that a large 
 part of human acts, many of which most nearly concern 
 us, are performed without God's knowledge, which were 
 to deny omniscience ; or, without his caring for them, 
 which were to deny his love ; or, without his power to 
 prevent them, which were to deny his omnipotence. 
 Yet, this is the doctrine of the Epicurean, of the world, 
 and of many who suppose themselves to be Christians. 
 As none but infidels deny all providence outright — 
 a truth which forces the assent of the sober Deist — ^the 
 usual method of error is to admit some general care 
 of the universe, but to deny such care as extends to 
 minute particulars. And this misconception is widely 
 prevalent among superficial thinkers. Now, not to re- 
 peat what has been abeady urged, that in the sense in- 
 tended there is with God neither great nor small, and 
 that there is to the Almighty no degradation, nor weari- 
 ness, nor waste of power, in caring for the sparrow, the 
 hair or the atom, I would bring it before the serious 
 consideration of doubters, that their tenet is destructive 
 of all providence whatever ; and that if there is no par- 
 ticular providence, there can be none at all. General 
 providence infers that which is particular. For, surely 
 these deniers do not mean to tell us, that God singles 
 out the great acts of the universe and the world's his- 
 tory, and neglects the small. In this case, the small 
 must after all be considered in the divine prescience, in 
 order that they may be left out. The meaning, per- 
 
DIYINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. g3 
 
 haps, is, that Divine wisdom fixes and decrees the grand 
 and momentous events in history, but fixes not minor 
 and intermediate points. But look a Httle more close- 
 ly, and you will perceive, that those momentous points 
 are caused and determined by these which are smaller. 
 The most astonishing changes in human things, which 
 have rent empires, and made the world ring for ages, 
 have depended on the most trifiing occurrences, and 
 but for these would not, and could not have been. Did 
 Providence then secure the great event, and leave its 
 proximate causes to be settled by chance, or not settled 
 at all ? The rise and fortunes of Moses occupy a just 
 eminence, as connected with the destiny of a people still 
 subsisting. Was there, or was there not, a providence 
 in the fact that the princess of Egypt, at a certain hour, 
 spied that wicker cradle upon the Nile ? It was a grand 
 event, that Christianity should be carried to Ethiopia. 
 Was there any providence in the meeting of Philip and 
 the treasurer of Queen Candace, on the road to Gaza ? 
 The death of Julius Cesar is one of the capital events in 
 human annals. Was there a providence in the great 
 man's failing to read the scroll of papyrus, handed to 
 him in the crowd, and which would have revealed to 
 him the conspiracy ? Nay, each of us, in his own httle 
 life, can recount incidents, trivial in themselves, yet di- 
 rectly conducive and even necessary to the occurrence 
 of what has given colour to our whole subsequent ex- 
 istence. The truth is, general providence is only the 
 sum of particular providences, as every whole is but an 
 
84 DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 
 
 aggregation of its several parts. And he who speaks of 
 a providential plan, so general as to exclude details and 
 minutiae, utters he knows not what, and professes what 
 he cannot expound even to his own conceptions. Let 
 us, therefore, reverently and dehghtedly, come back to 
 the doctrine of our childish days, which is at the same 
 time a conclusion of the profoundest philosophy, that all 
 events, even the smallest, fall out according to the com- 
 prehensive and well-ordered plan of a sleepless benig- 
 nant and all- wise Ruler, who doeth his pleasure in the ar- 
 mies of heaven, and among the inhabitants of the earth. 
 How beautifully this shines out in the records of the 
 Scriptures ; making them herein differ strikingly from 
 all other annals ! This clew will often guide us through 
 the mazes of an otherwise inexphcable narrative. This 
 will often explain to us, why some things are given in 
 great detail, while others are passed over in silence. 
 For, the accounts given in Scriptm-e are the history, not 
 so much of the intentions of man, as of the plans of 
 God. Especially in the vernal sunshine of patriarchal 
 days, we behold God's hand, we feel his presence, we 
 admit his agency, at every turn. And all the way 
 through the tangled web of Judaic history, it is Jehovah 
 who is the planner, it is Jehovah who is the hero of the 
 story. Well were it for each of us, if we could transfer 
 this spirit of the Bible to the explanation of our own 
 lives. It would clear up many a day of clouds, and 
 solve many an enigma. In this behef, I dare not close 
 without certain practical conclusions from truths, I trust, 
 
DIYINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. §5 
 
 sufficiently established. We may sin against the doc- 
 trine of a particular providence in several ways. 
 
 In regard to the past, we may offend by repining, 
 or quaxreUing with providence. It is one of our daily 
 and most heinous transgressions, excluding the thought of 
 God's wise and beneficent rule from the events of our 
 common days. The sin of murmuring was the fatal ini- 
 quity of Israel in the wilderness. It should be enough 
 to reconcile us to every event, that it befals us agreeably 
 to the wisdom and justice and mercy of God. What 
 misery, what weakness, what consumption of health, 
 what decay of spirits, what paralysis of effort, what 
 sourness and morose care, might have been avoided, if 
 we had learnt to live in a continual submission to Provi- 
 dence, as to every particular of our hves. " Lord, in- 
 crease our faith ! " 
 
 Akin to this is despair, when there seems to be no 
 outlet from our troubles. It may befit a Cain, a Saul, 
 or a Judas ; but not a child of God. If time had al- 
 lowed, I might have shown how Providence, under a 
 special covenant, concerns itself for those who shall be 
 heirs of salvation. The lessons of our Lord, abeady 
 cited, go to forbid this undue despondency. Hard as 
 it may be for unaided nature, it is the prerogative of 
 grace, when the night is darkest and most dreary, not 
 only to submit to what is sent, but to trust and hope in 
 God for the future ; and there is a blessing on such ex- 
 ercises of soul. Distrust of Providence impHes an ac- 
 
86 DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 
 
 tual disbelief of God's rule and disposal of the events 
 whicli concern ns. 
 
 Another sin is the imputing of our sins to God, 
 which is a horrible abuse of the doctrine of Providence. 
 The metaphysics of this subject may be difficult, and 
 we are not called upon to resolve all the doubts which 
 may be raised by an ingenious and perverse reason ; but 
 a few undeniable truths stand out in fire, like light- 
 houses flaming along a tempestuous coast. Whatever 
 we know not, we do know that the Judge of all the 
 earth will do right ; that God cannot be tempted of 
 evil, neither tempteth he any man ; that while he per- 
 mits sin, bounds it, and overrules it, he is infinitely 
 remote from being its cause, and from participating in 
 its mahgn quahty ; that, as all good is from above, so 
 all the evil of our misdeeds is from ourselves. These 
 plain and admitted truths should rise fully before us, 
 when at any time we are tempted to charge God fool- 
 ishly. 
 
 Again, there is a perversion which turns providence 
 into fate, and professes to hope for results without 
 using means. Whatever is to be, will be — ^is the fa- 
 mihar maxim of the profane and superficial fatalist; 
 often upon the lips of those who have no real belief in 
 providence. Wise men know that he who orders the 
 end, orders also the means, and that the means are made 
 necessary to the end by the decree of God himself. 
 Providence is itself a system, regularly working by a 
 chain of means, in the order of cause and efiect. 
 
DIVINE PROYIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. 37 
 
 Providence does not ensure the result in spite of neg- 
 lects and omissions, but by ensuring the means required. 
 Where any man, whether from fataUsm or indolence, 
 omits the performance of his part, providence then goes 
 on its stately march to produce the Milure of the end. 
 Hence the sin of presumption is chargeable on such as 
 rush on dangers, uncalled, in the profane expectation of 
 safety or deliverance. " Thou shalt not tempt the Lord 
 thy God." In things temporal, and in those which 
 concern our personal salvation, we abuse providence 
 when we neglect the diligent use of those instrumental- 
 ities which God has ordained. 
 
 Prone to extremes, however, sinful human nature 
 sometimes speeds to the very opposite, and relies im- 
 pHcitly on second causes. This is the reigning sin of 
 the busy world. It becomes flagrant in many, who, 
 after long prosperity, come to ascribe aU their success to 
 their own endeavours, forget the hand which has sus- 
 tained and supported them, and mentally expel the God 
 of Providence from his own dominions. Such are the 
 sons of wealth, who fear no reverses, give no thanks, 
 expect largely from self, or, as they speak, from luck, 
 and mean to be happy in spite of God. There may be 
 cases in which they have their good things in this 
 world, feel no bands in their death, and expire as they 
 have Hved. But it is very common for a holy and just 
 God, by some stroke of his judgment on body, reason, 
 family, reputation, or estate, to show such persons, as 
 he did Nebuchadnezzar, that " the Heavens do rule." 
 
88 DIVINE PROYIDEXCE IN PARTICULARS. 
 
 We shall best avoid these various errors, by establish- 
 ing our minds on a thorough persuasion of God's all- 
 pervading, all-embracing providence. And happy 
 should I be, my brethren, if the words now spoken 
 should prove seasonable to any one who has come to 
 this house overburdened with care. To such a heart 
 the blessed assurance of the text, carried home by the 
 Spirit of grace, will become a sovereign balm. The 
 bitterness of our griefs arises from our denying or for- 
 getting, that whatsoever Hes heavy on our lot is laid 
 there by the hand of Him who is ordering all things 
 for our good. However vexing may be the annoyances 
 of our pilgrim state, the loving soul can bear much from 
 the hand of a compassionate Creator and Redeemer. 
 These unwelcome visitations are intended to bring us 
 to right views of God's government of all things for 
 his people. Is the trouble past ? . It is the Lord 
 who hath done it ; let him do as seemeth him good ! 
 Be still, and know that he is God. Is it present? 
 Own the chastening of a present God, who doeth all 
 things well, and who is near you, to bring good out of 
 evil. Is it future ? Take no anxious thought for the 
 morrow. He who plans in wisdom and executes in 
 power, is your Keeper, your Shield, and your exceeding 
 great Reward. Nothing is too hard for his might; 
 nothing too little for his condescension. The very 
 hairs of your head are all numbered. Apply this to 
 the circumstances of this very day and hour ; apply it 
 to those second causes, which, to a vainly-wise unbelief 
 
DIVINE PROVIDENCE IN PARTICULARS. gg 
 
 often seem too insignificant to be brought to the foot of 
 the infinite throne. You may use a child-hke confi- 
 dence in coming to your Father in heaven ; you may 
 unbosom before him your smallest disquietudes. The 
 thorn in the traveller's foot is sometimes grievous as the 
 sword of an adversary. The strongest Christians are 
 those who, from holy habit, hasten with every thiag to 
 God. Summon this doctrine to your aid, not merely 
 when the weightier class of calamities oppress you ; but 
 amidst the perturbations of ordinary life, the coUisions 
 of business, the perplexities of the household, the muta- 
 tions of health and spirits, nay the clouds of the sky, 
 which too often carry darkness into the windows of the 
 shrinking and sensitive soul. The very moods which 
 make our wheels drag slowly through the daily task, 
 the tempers of those around us, the petty disappoint- 
 ment and chagrin, the sHght, the cross, the look of un- 
 kindness and the silence of rebuke — all are dispensed 
 in season and in love. Happy is the soul which, having 
 secured an interest in providence by securing accept- 
 ance in Christ, can roll its burden on the Lord and lie 
 down secure amidst the tempest, because its Father is 
 at the helm. 
 
IV. 
 
 THE INCARNATION 
 
THE mCAENATION * 
 
 1 TmoTHT iii. 16. 
 " Grod was manifest in the flesh." 
 
 " The Catholic faith is this, that we worship one 
 God in Trinity and Trinity in Unity; neither confound- 
 ing the persons, nor dividing the substance." 
 
 " Our Lord Jesus Christ, the Son of the Father, is 
 God and man ; God of the substance of the Father, 
 begotten before, the world; and Man of the substance 
 of his mother, bom in the world. Perfect God and 
 perfect Man ; of a reasonable soul, and human flesh sub- 
 sisting ; equal to the Father as touching his Godhead, 
 and inferior to the Father as touching his manhood. 
 Who, although he be God and Man, yet he is not two, 
 but one Christ." 
 
 * New York, February 11, 1849. 
 
94 THE INCAENATION. 
 
 These are formulas whicli some will not pronomice, 
 wlio nevertheless vamit their behef of " God in Christ." 
 Our present task is not to prove or even to illustrate the 
 Incarnation, but only to look at one of its aspects, to 
 wit, the manifesting of God. In plainer terms, the 
 question is, How God's becoming man brings God 
 any nearer to our understandings and our hearts. And 
 in this inquiry we shall be led to the result, that by the 
 humanity of Christ the Divine Nature is brought more 
 within the reach of our understanding and our affections. 
 But as these two branches of the subject are large and 
 distinct, they may be properly treated in succession. 
 Accordingly, our first topic is this, that by the Incarna- 
 tion God is brought near to our understanding ; and 
 the second, that, by the Incarnation, God is brought 
 near to our affections. 
 
 I. By the Incarnation, God is brought near to our 
 understanding. We know more of God, by this means, 
 than we could ever have known without it. We are 
 no more able than before to grasp the infinite, or com- 
 prehend the incomprehensible, or peasiire the immense, 
 or see the invisible ; yet these divine and unapproach- 
 able perfections are brought into such connections with 
 humanity as to furnish us with some steps by which to 
 climb up towards the height of these glories ; to acquire 
 some ideas, though inadequate, of what would otherwise 
 entirely elude our research. All creatures together 
 could not by searcMng find out God, yet one may 
 
THE INCARNATION. 95 
 
 know more than another ; and many, more at one time 
 than at another ; angels more than men ; saints more than 
 sinners ; and every behever much that he could not have 
 discovered without this gracious intervention. Look 
 at it as we may, there is a wonderful mystery in God's 
 willing to be known of creatures. The whole creation 
 is fruit of such a will. God might have spent eternity 
 in blissful sHence, in the all-satisfying glory of his own 
 perfections. But his infinite benevolence chose to im- 
 part this excellence, which is what we mean by God's 
 declarative glory or his glorifying himself. This is 
 the key to all the successive manifestations of God, 
 and especially of the creative manifestation. In the 
 work of the six days, including all the beauties and 
 utilities of the earth and all the regulated immensities 
 of heaven, Jehovah was only giving us a sparkle of his 
 grandeur ; and when we now look at the heavens and 
 the earth in their vast generahty, or, taking any one 
 particular, as an insect or a leaf, descend into its in- 
 finitesimal minuteness of detail, we are studying just 
 so much of God. The common expression is just, 
 we read the Book of Nature. But no external mani- 
 festations could ever bring us to the chief of what we 
 need to know of God, his moral perfections, his mercy 
 and his love ; and God had regard to this, in making 
 man. I do not mean merely that it was necessary to 
 make a rational creature, in order to see and know 
 God's glory, which is true indeed ; but over and above 
 this, that the creature, thus rational, should be so made 
 
96 THE mCARNATION. 
 
 as to have within himself some facilities for knowing his 
 Creator ; some analogy, some resemblance to him, some 
 ray of Godhead which might guide him back ; some 
 image and likeness of the Invisible ; and therefore in 
 this image and likeness was he made. If man had 
 been made without this conformity, I do not see how 
 he could ever have come to any understanding of the 
 Divine perfections. Unless man were intellectual he 
 could have no notion of God as truth ; unless man had 
 conscience, he could have no notion of God as righteous- 
 ness ; unless man had volition, he could have no notion 
 of God as power ; and unless man had affections, he 
 could have no notion of God as love. But because he 
 is made in God's image in these respects, he is able to 
 gain glimpses of the Divine attributes, of which he gets 
 the best ideas when he removes all limits from his own 
 powers, and conceives them as enlarged to infinity. 
 !For example, if a being were found, with intellect, 
 memory, will, and affections, but with no moral faculty, 
 we could never, even by centuries of reasoning, convey 
 to such a being the slightest notion of virtue or holiness, 
 or of God as morally pure or holy. And there is no 
 absurdity in supposing that there are in God a thousand 
 perfections, of which the very kind is unknown to us, 
 because, among all endowments, we have none even 
 generically resembling these perfections. Lower ani- 
 mals, possessed of but one sense or of but two, can by 
 no possibility arrive at the sensations of higher senses ; 
 no absolutely bhnd man can conceive of colour, or deaf 
 
THE INCARNATION. gy 
 
 man of sound. There are animals probably which pos- 
 sess senses unknown to us ; and among higher created 
 spirits there are angels who possibly have faculties of 
 mind as inconceivable to us as colours to the blind. 
 But what shaU we say of Divinity ? AU comparison is 
 lost in the boundless glory ! Yet immeasurably as God 
 transcends our powers, he has placed in us certain 
 germs of resemblance, whereby we may come to know 
 him ; and this was gloriously true of man in his primi- 
 tive integrity. But why, you wiU be ready to say, does 
 the preacher go back to the original creation of man, 
 when the subject is, the manifestation of God by Jesus 
 Christ? Por this reason, brethren, that the original 
 man was the first Adam, and that Christ is the second 
 Adam ; for this additional reason, that in the wonderful 
 paraUehsm between the first and the second, there is a 
 common element of humanity in both, by means of 
 which, as hke to God, man is able to come nearer to 
 God, than would have been possible otherwise. Just 
 as the image of God in Adam placed him in a situation 
 to know his Divine exemplar, just as in humanity we 
 see somewhat of divinity, so in the perfect and more 
 glorious humanity of Christ we are enabled to know 
 more of God than by all other means, even when we 
 consider it as mere humanity ; but infinitely more when 
 we consider it as the containing tabernacle of the God- 
 head. For, be it ever remembered, we are not to hold 
 that the only divinity revealed in Christ is his godhke 
 humanity ; but that this humanity, thus like God, and 
 7 
 
98 THE mCARNATION. 
 
 more like God/ than that of the first Adam, affords a 
 vehicle for divine communications, and a channel for 
 divine revelations, infinitely suitable and complete, 
 when the Godhead becomes one with the manhood. 
 Here, therefore, is an analogy between the first and the 
 second Adam, which might otherwise escape us. An 
 additional reason for the communication by Christ is 
 found in the dreadful fact, that since the fall man has 
 in a great degree lost this image of God, though cer- 
 tain broken traces undoubtedly remain, so as to form 
 the basis of further knowledge. 
 
 Let us proceed, then, to the appUcation of these 
 principles to the case of the second Adam. We at 
 once perceive his infinite superiority to the first. Even 
 in Christ's humanity, the divine image shines with a 
 splendour unknown in paradise. " The first man is of 
 the earth, earthy; the second man is the Lord from 
 heaven." The wisdom, power and holiness of Adam 
 were unimpaired, but limited. They did not attain 
 even that mark which they would have reached, if the 
 covenant had been so fulfilled as that Adam should 
 have been confirmed in perpetual indefectible goodness. 
 For Adam, though erect, was not established -, though 
 not an infant, in Eden, as Socinianizing divines teach, 
 he was but infantile as compared with the Lord from 
 heaven. The Lord Jesus Christ was possessed of 
 glorious perfections, even in his humanity, altogether 
 unknown to our first progenitor. He was the me- 
 dium of conveying divine wisdom. The Spirit was 
 
THE INCARNATION. gg 
 
 given him without measure: He was not only sinless, 
 but insusceptible of sin, and thus immeasurably sub- 
 lime. Though we cannot comprehend the union of 
 the ever-present Deity with the man Christ Jesus, 
 yet we perceive at once that it must have exalted 
 every power ; and that, while humanity was still hu- 
 manity, and there was no confounding of the two 
 natures, the human was all glorified by the indwell- 
 ing of the divine, even as a globe of crystal, by an 
 internal fire, is made all light. Nor can we think of 
 the infinite God as united personally to a manhood 
 which was other than sublime. O, my brethren, what 
 marvels dwell within that Son of man ! Even as the 
 tabernacle in the wildemess was a homely structure, 
 without presenting a rugged covering of the skins of 
 beasts, but within was radiant with gold, and inhabited 
 by the visible glory, between the cherubim above the 
 ark, so under that body which was worn with weariness 
 and pain, and within that face which was "marred 
 more than any man," there abode the subUmated glory 
 of humanity, in a divinely-sustained knowledge, hoh- 
 ness and power. Sometimes these rays shot forth. 
 " We beheld his glory ; the glory of the Only-Begotten 
 of the Father." In authority over tempests and evil 
 spirits ; in power to heal ; in creative miracles ; in 
 searching of the heart ; in amazing endurance, forgive- 
 ness and love ; we behold more of God than all the 
 universe beside reveals ; and the point is, that it is re- , 
 vealed to man by man. Perhaps you inquire, how 
 
100 THE INCARNATION. 
 
 this is a revelation of divinity, since the subject of these 
 excellencies was truly man ? How can the excellencies 
 of a man, however exalted, show ns the excellency of 
 God ? My dear brethren, this is a hard question, and 
 there are difficulties in it which I should dread even 
 to approach; yet we may coast around a continent 
 which we dare not penetrate and cannot survey ; and 
 there are some fixed points here, where we may take 
 our position amidst a sea of uncertainty. This is more 
 remarkably true of the moral perfections of God. In 
 respect to these I would offer two remarks, intended to 
 show that the revelation of the excellency in Christ Jesus 
 is a revelation of God. 
 
 1. Virtue and holiness, with lowly reverence be it 
 spoken, is the same in God as in man. Virtue is not 
 simply a relation of temporal things, but an eternal 
 quality ; because it is a quality of the Eternal God. 
 His command of virtue does not derive its excellence 
 from God's mere power or arbitrary order, but from his 
 eternal nature. God is himself the foundation of virtue. 
 Could we beheve the grovelling doctrine of expediency, 
 or that there is nothing in virtue but its tendency to 
 produce happiness, we might think otherwise. But 
 then we might also believe that the highest happiness 
 of God and the aggregate happiness of the universe, 
 require our vice and misery. No, my beloved hearers, 
 it is a fixed point, equally in morals and divinity, that 
 holiness in God, though infinitely removed above hoH- 
 ness in man, is still one and the same holiness. The 
 
THE INCARNATION. ]^q| 
 
 truth of God, the righteousness of God, the mercy of 
 God, and the love of God, are not dijfferent qualities 
 called by the same names, but the same quahties ex- 
 isting in their highest power. So that when, in the 
 God-man, Jesus Christ, we observe the beautiful and 
 touching manifestation of feehngs, habits and volitions, 
 residing in a human subject indeed, but in a human 
 subject personally one with the divine, we are really 
 beholding the very excellencies which reside ia God. 
 And by this means we are brought higher in the scale' 
 of morals and nearer to a contemplation of divine hoH- 
 ness, than would be possible by any or by all other 
 means. In every word, act and gesture of Jesus Christ, 
 we see the invisible Godhead breaking forth. 
 
 2. Although the nature in which obedience was 
 rendered is the human nature, yet it is human nature 
 IQ such union with the divine, that the two constitute 
 but one Person ; and this adorable Person is divine. 
 Therefore the moral states and acts of the Lord Jesus 
 Christ, even when proceeding from a human will, are 
 nevertheless, so far as we are concerned, the moral 
 states and acts of God. To which we must add, that 
 the human and the divine will, though not confounded, 
 as though there were a divine agent iu a new human 
 form, are in perfect consonance ; there is no diversity, 
 or struggle. In this sense it is but one and the same 
 Will ; and thus the revelation of excellency in Christ 
 Jesus is a revelation of God. 
 
 In contemplatiag the character of Jesus Christ, we 
 
102 THE INCARNATION. 
 
 observe one class of virtues, which you will join me in 
 regarding as most affecting, and most fully showing the 
 need of an Incarnation. These are the suffering virtues ; 
 or those which are evolved under trial and pain. The 
 first Adam, remaining sinless, would have remained as 
 painless as God himself. There would never have been 
 a sigh or a tear in Eden or in Heaven. But after the 
 introduction of sin into our world, a new class of affec- 
 tions entered ; and sin has been, by God's mighty wis- 
 dom, wrested against its own nature, to show forth the 
 loveliest aspect of the Redeemer's glory. " For it be- 
 came him," says the apostle, " for whom are all things, and 
 by whom are all things, in bringing many sons unto 
 glory, to make the Captain of their salvation perfect 
 through suffering." * Dear Christian brethren, could 
 we allow ourselves to be robbed of these dehghtful, 
 heart-affecting shades, in the picture of our Lord's Hfe, 
 or could they have existed without an Incarnation? 
 These tender, gentle excellencies of Christ, are so nume- 
 rous that they fill your memories of his ministry. His 
 lowliness, his meekness, his fortitude, his fear, his grief, 
 his patience, his pity, his forgiveness. "Which of these 
 Hneam'ents would you dash out of the picture ? See him 
 among the sick and suffering; at the house of Peter, 
 the gate of Nain, the plains where he fed thousands, the 
 bereaved dweUing, and the grave of Lazarus. See him 
 weary at the well. See him not having where to lay his 
 head. See him in the upper chamber among the twelve. 
 
 * Heb. ii. 10. 
 
THE INCARNATION. 1Q3 
 
 See him in the garden, at his trial, and on the cross. 
 Observe the benignant, yet sorrowing \drtues and 
 graces of these hours, marked with tears and blood, and 
 say, even though they tell of human weakness, which of 
 these would you rehnquish ? Yet, none of them could 
 have been manifested to us, unless because " the Word 
 became flesh, and dwelt among us." And, on the prin- 
 ciple already laid down, these excellencies are not merely 
 human but divine. The glory of the godhead shines 
 out, not only in the raising of the dead, and the pardon 
 of sins, but in the tears and sighs of compassion, and in 
 the unexampled cry, " Not my will, but thine be done." 
 We may therefore affirm with confidence, that all the 
 human character of Christ, as shown in his ministry on 
 earth, is really a bright disclosure of the character of 
 God, such as could be made only by the Incarnation. 
 
 But the mention just made of suiBPering, leads us 
 most naturally to consider the summing-up of those suf- 
 ferings in the Cross of our Lord Jesus Christ, and the 
 manifestation of God in that complication of agonies. 
 By the Cross, I mean here the whole series of events in 
 the close of Christ's ministry as a sujfferer ; his " Cross 
 and Passion," as going to make up one oblation. And 
 let it be specially noted that we are not now surveying 
 this, in its primary intention, as a sacrifice to satisfy 
 divine justice, but in its character of a manifestation of 
 God in the flesh ; such a manifestation, moreover, as 
 could be made only in the flesh, or by the assmnption of 
 humanity. The Son of God looked steadily to this one 
 
104 THE INCARNATION. 
 
 termination. In eteraal covenant he devoted himself to 
 manhood and the curse. In his own divine intention he 
 was " the Lamb slain, from before the foundation of the 
 world.'' All the lines of type and prophecy are seen to 
 converge on this one point. When he became a human 
 being, every step was towards this consummation. And 
 at this accursed tree, as at a focal point, all the mani- 
 festations of God concentre with a burning effulgence. 
 It is often said, and nothing was ever said more truly, 
 that all the divine attributes harmonize in the plan of 
 redemption, and therefore in the death of Christ. It is 
 not necessary to show this by a formal and laboured 
 catalogue of these perfections. They are all there, as 
 the hues are aU in the rainbow ; but they are there as 
 constituting a single luminous ray. All there is of 
 God seems to pour down on that spot of earth ; and 
 the channel by which it is conveyed is indicated by 
 these words, " God is Love." There, in that bleeding 
 spectacle, all that we behold is in one sense humanity ; 
 in another, it is godhead. 
 
 • 
 " Here his whole name appears complete ; 
 Nor wit can guess, nor reason prove, 
 Which of the letters best is writ, 
 The power, the wisdom, or the love. 
 
 Here I behold his inmost heart, 
 Where grace and vengeance strangely join, 
 Piercing his Son with sharpest smart, 
 To make the purchas'd pleasures mine." 
 
THE mCARNATIOK ]^Q5 
 
 The Christianity of all ages has beheld in the human 
 sufferings of a Divine Person, a manifestation not so 
 much of man as of God. That one thing which was 
 wanting in the first Adam, namely, suffering, is here 
 prominently set forth. This sight of Jesus Christ is 
 the nearest view we can ever have of God. His unap- 
 proachable glories forever elude our search, and even 
 though in pursuit we fly on the wings of the morning, 
 we behold the radiant throne forever flying before us ; 
 but in the wounds of Christ, and in his dying counte- 
 nance, we read the great lesson of manifested divinity. 
 The Word was made flesh ; called the Word, as being 
 the Revealer, and in this dying scene, revealing more 
 than in all ages previous : " to make all men see what is 
 the fellowship of the mystery, which, from the beginning 
 of the world, has been hid in God." Hence, Eph. iii. 
 19, to " know the love of Christ," is to " be filled vdth 
 all the ftJness of God." 
 
 The Son of God, then, by becoming incarnate, has 
 made a manifestation of the Godhead, more complete 
 than the universe has ever knovm. It is not merely, as 
 even Unitarians and Deists may beheve, that a certain 
 good man, called Jesus of Nazareth, has taught more 
 clear, and full, and accurate doctrines concerning God. 
 This is true, but infinitely more is true. This Jesas of 
 Nazareth, very God and very man, possessing the two 
 natures in one indivisible divine person, has, in human 
 guise, and with a human body and soul, so hved, so 
 spoken, so felt, so acted, and so suffered, as to reveal 
 
106 THE INCARNATION. 
 
 the divinity througli the manhood, as it was never re- 
 vealed before ; and so as to present those attributes 
 vrhich were otherwise invisible and remote, in near, pal- 
 pable action. Henceforth, it is not merely Truth, Wis- 
 dom, Power, and Love, in distant abstractions, but In- 
 carnate Truth, and Wisdom, and Power, and Love. 
 Suppose, my brethren, that we were to remove out of the 
 Scriptures all that knowledge of God, which has come 
 to us through the Lord Jesus Christ, what would be 
 left ! How would our Christianity be shorn of its 
 brightest rays ! No ; when we would behold divinity, 
 we look for the light of his glory as it shines in the 
 face of Jesus Christ. In him dweUeth all the fulness 
 of the Godhead, bodily. So he taught his disciples 
 that the sight of himseK was the sight of God. " Have 
 I been so long time with you, and yet hast thou not 
 known me, Philip ? he that hath seen me, hath seen the 
 Father; and how sayest thou, then. Show us the 
 Pather?" John the Baptist knew this, and testified it in 
 his last recorded speech. His morning-star " paled its 
 ineffectual fires " before the rising sun. " He that cometh 
 from heaven," said he, " is above all ; and what he hath 
 seen and heard, that he testifieth." All the time that 
 Christ was upon earth, he did not cease to be in heaven 
 with God. " No man hath seen God at any time ; the 
 Only Begotten Son, who is in the bosom of the Father, 
 he hath declared him." Hence, the Apostle John, in 
 language otherwise unintelligible, speaks of the Word of 
 God, as if subjected to the scrutiny of the senses, 1 John, 
 
THE INCARNATION. ]^qw 
 
 i. 1 ; " which was from the beginning, which we have 
 heard, which we have seen with our eyes, which we 
 have looked upon, and our hands have handled of the 
 Word of life." It is Christ who is the great Re- 
 vealer, even to our understandings ; and no man cometh 
 unto the Father, even intellectually, but by Him. He 
 is not simply the Teacher; he is the Word. He is 
 God himself in revelation. And, as incarnate, he is 
 God in the flesh : the mirror, the luminous manifester 
 of God; the "brightness," or radiant effulgence, or 
 outshining of his glory, the express image, or sealed 
 character of his subsistence. 
 
 Remembering that it does not become us to in- 
 trude into those things which we have not seen, we 
 must not undertake to say by what methods God will 
 reveal himself to us in the future world. We know 
 that Christ will still be Immanuel, God with us. We 
 know that he will still bear our nature, forever, in 
 heaven. We know that the absolute perfections of the 
 Godhead will never cease to be inaccessible. We know 
 that our Redeemer will still possess that same love 
 which has led him to make all previous manifestations. 
 We know that our own human nature shall then be 
 brought unspeakably nearer to the human nature of the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, than it has ever been on earth ; since 
 it will be freed from all sin and imperfection; and 
 since we can scarcely form ideas too high of what the 
 Lord shall confer on our souls, when he shall change even 
 " our vile body, that it may be fashioned hke unto his 
 
208 '^^^ INCARNATION. 
 
 glorious body, according to the working whereby he is 
 able even to subdue all things unto himself." Phil. iii. 21. 
 And hence, it is surely within the modesty of Christian 
 conjecture, that when our humanity shall be brought so 
 much nearer the glorified humanity of the Lord Jesus 
 Christ, we shall enjoy communications from his divine 
 nature, proportionably surpassing all that has fallen to 
 our lot here. 
 
 In this world, therefore, and in the other, we know 
 more of God, by the Incarnation, than we could ever 
 have known without it ; and this is the first point to be 
 estabhshed. 
 
 11. By the Incarnation, God is brought near to 
 our Affections. This, my brethren, is a part of the 
 subject which involves less of theological argument, but 
 which comes home more nearly to our hearts. Religion 
 dwells much in the affections, and all intellectual views 
 are important as tending towards emotion and action. 
 Stoical philosophy tried in vain to expel human pas- 
 sions. Our very hfe is made up of them, and so far as 
 we succeed in banishing them, we reduce existence to a 
 condition such as that the world would be, if all colour 
 were removed from the objects of nature. But, thanks 
 be to God, it is in a very small degree that we are ca- 
 pable of destroying sensibility. Though, by so doing, 
 we prevent some pain, we still more certainly prevent 
 aU pleasure ; and God has wisely constituted us so as to 
 fear, to hope, to desire, to love, to rejoice and to grieve. 
 
THE INCARNATION. ^QQ 
 
 Who is there that needs to be instructed in the power 
 of human domestic aflPections? These it is, which 
 make the charm of home. A hundred pictures rise to 
 your mind, the more dehghtful, because they are the 
 product rather of memory than imagination. There are 
 some things of which fancy may brighten the hues, and 
 which may be loveher in fiction than in real Hfe ; but it 
 is not so with the affections of warm hearts. The at- 
 tempt would be 
 
 " To gild refined gold, to paint the lily, 
 " To throw a perfume on the violet." 
 
 The love of parent to child, of children to parents, and 
 the conjugal affections from which these spring, are be- 
 yond description. Dwell a moment on that which was 
 first named. See the young mother, hanging over her 
 babe, with a new and overmastering affection, which 
 has changed her within a few short months from the 
 buoyant maiden, swimming in the dance of pleasure and 
 admiration, to be the doting, fearing, indefatigable, 
 watching parent, whose whole soul is treasured up in 
 that cradle, and who hves a new life in this experience, 
 which no one could have described to her, and which 
 she cannot hope to make credible save by those who 
 have borne the same burden. Suppose affliction and 
 illness should come, there is bitterness infused into the 
 cup ; but the passion has not lost its strength. What 
 picture is more lovely or more famihar than that of two 
 parents gazing upon the Httle ones whom they have 
 
1X0 THE INCARNATION. 
 
 consigned to sleep, as the unconscious objects of their 
 love lie locked in each other's arms? And often have- 
 we been called to see the same affection chnging to the 
 languishing and dying child, and hanging over the dead ; 
 a faithful watch-lamp among the tombs. Nor are these 
 the only instances of strong attachments : I trust there 
 is not one within the sound of my voice, who is not 
 himself the subject or the object of such love, which 
 goes beyond the lines of bloody and dignifies the field 
 of sacred Mendship. Think not, my hearers, that I 
 have alluded to these acknowledged evidences of feehng 
 for purposes of embelhshment or entertainment. They 
 serve another and more important end; they bring 
 strongly before your minds the great part which is oc- 
 cupied by the affections, and remind you how much the 
 happiness of life is dependent on them. Staunch the 
 well-spring of love, and what is left of existence that 
 would be worth saving ? We might have intelligence, 
 purpose, and animal appetite, but we could have no ele- 
 vation, and no happiness. No, my brethren ; next to 
 the love of himself, God has given us nothing better 
 than the love of one another, as it flows forth in all the 
 mutual relations of society. But, lest you think I wan- 
 der from my topic, let me hasten to trace out the con- 
 nexion of what has been said, with the loftier topic 
 which engages us. I have instanced in a single afiec- 
 tion, that of love ; but while brevity demanded this, I 
 would beg you to observe, that most of what has been 
 offered, has equal apphcation to such other emotions as 
 
THE INCARNATION. m 
 
 may terminate on a good object. We are now tliere- 
 fore prepared to remark, that God has brought our 
 feehngs within the circle of rehgion ; and this in two 
 respects. He has sanctified these affections by his 
 grace. He has turned these instincts into duties ; and 
 has made feelings which are dehghtful in themselves 
 part of our tribute to himself. He has, with his own 
 finger, inscribed on the second table of the Law, the 
 household names of husband, wife, father, mother, 
 son, daughter, servant, and neighbour, and thus made 
 them sacred. He has proposed to us to receive pay- 
 ment of duty in the shape of affections and their fruits, 
 which are themselves a reward. He has enlarged the 
 circle so as to take in aU mankind ; and has said of good 
 bestowed on the suffering, " Inasmuch as ye did it to 
 the least of these my brethren, ye did it unto me." 
 Christianity has seized upon these natural affections, and 
 enlarged, purified, refined, and sanctified them. The 
 theme is inviting ; but I must go on to state a second 
 respect, in which God has brought our affections within 
 the circle of rehgion; for He has, wonderful to de- 
 clare, permitted these affections to terminate on him- 
 self. This is more amazing than at first appears. 
 God suffers creatures, lately condemned for their sins, 
 to look up to him with hope, desire, pious sorrow, joy, 
 and love. That we can thus feel toward fellow-crea- 
 tures, we know ; we experience it every day, to om* so- 
 lace, relief and enjoyment ; but towards God ! how is it 
 possible ? Surely the thought were impious. Jehovah 
 
112 THE mCAKNATION. 
 
 is too high to be reached by such affections as ours ; 
 and such a flight were too daring and presumptuous. 
 Enough were it for us to stand at the foot of Sinai, and 
 look upwards to the distant Majesty, with another class 
 of emotions, with reverence, dread, admiring awe, and 
 solemn fear. Sufficient were it for sinners to know that 
 God will not consume them with a blaze of his wrath. 
 And such indeed are the views engendered by the 
 Law. It can go no further. But ye are not come 
 to the mount that might be touched, and that burned 
 fire, nor unto blackness, and darkness, and tempest, 
 and the sound of a trumpet, and the voice of words ; 
 but ye are come unto Mount Zion, unto the city 
 of the living God. The whole relation is so changed, 
 that we approach no longer as servants, but as sons, 
 and are permitted to pour into the bosom of God 
 the very same affections which we bestow on beloved 
 human creatures, only with a greatness of volume in 
 the tide, such as could not reasonably end on any 
 thing finite. God, in infinite condescension, permits 
 us to look on him with a genuine and personal affec- 
 tion. And it is this which brings the whole matter 
 clearly within the scope of the present argument ; since 
 our proposal is to show that by the Incarnation, God is 
 brought sufficiently near to be the object of these af- 
 fections. We have seen how the same glorious event 
 brought the divine perfections within the range of our 
 . mental vision ; but to stop there, would be but the half 
 of rehgion. It is not the cold contemplation of certain 
 
THE INCARNATION. ]^23 
 
 attributes, even though divine, vrhich accomphshes our 
 work. The first and chiefest commandment, yea, the 
 sum of all, is Thou shalt love. But who can love a 
 metaphysical abstraction ; even when named by the 
 name of God ? Who can draw nigh to a Deity so ab- 
 struse and distant ? No contemplation of the glories 
 of nature can do more than excite admiration, and per^ 
 haps a modified thankfulness, of the vaguest and coldest 
 sort. It is the Gospel which brings God nigh. We 
 do not deny that in the Old Testament there are many 
 representations of God as a Father, and many views of 
 his character, as long-sufiering and of tender mercy, and 
 forgiving transgression, such as awaken tender emotions 
 towards him. But all these are so many anticipations 
 of the Christian era ; Christ, my brethren, is in the Old 
 Testament as well as in the New. His name was on 
 every altar, laver, pillar, vail, and censer, on all the 
 golden imagery, and aU the cunning work of the taber- 
 nacle; but it was there in hieroglyphic device and 
 cipher, such as required a key, and a practised eye ; and 
 these were read backwards by the legalists of Israel, 
 for want of the knowledge of Christianity. When the 
 Messiah came, he found them with this law in their 
 hands, yet devoid of aU generous, melting, loving affec- 
 tions towards God. A yoke of galling, intolerable for- 
 malism lay on the necks of the whole people. The 
 general aspect of the Old Testament unquestionably 
 wears a frown, not in its real intention, but as appre-# 
 hended by those whose hearts were veiled as to its real 
 8 
 
114 THE INCARNATION. 
 
 • 
 
 meaning. The doctrine of the New Testament was 
 needed to expound the Old. All which is strikingly 
 confirmed, when we survey the condition of the modem 
 Jews, in their rejection of the Lord Jesus Christ. Their 
 service is slavish. With the Old Testament in their 
 hands, and read daily in their synagogues, they never- 
 theless approach God with attempts at a hard routine of 
 ceremonies, which neither they nor their fathers were 
 able to bear. The grand defect in all their services, 
 and which they have no means of supplying, is the 
 want of spiritual fihal love. The total absence of this 
 among the heathen, is a striking fact in their history. 
 Even while their poets say, " Por we are also His off- 
 spring ;" none of their books make any part of rehgion 
 consist in affectionate regard for their deities, even the 
 chief. No moral duties are referred to any attachment 
 to the gods, as their motive ; no law says. Thou shalt 
 love Jupiter or Neptune, or all the gods, or any of 
 them. Whereas, when we turn to the New Testa- 
 ment, or even to the Old as explained by the New, we 
 observe this exercise of the affections on every page. 
 And wherever true religion enters a soul, it works as 
 strongly as do the natural impulses within us towards a 
 beloved circle. . The believer looks on God with as real 
 and as personal affection, as on his children, or his 
 parent, though with a purer and higher flame. He is 
 not content with the impersonal Deity of the philoso- 
 pher ; the mere power of Nature, or Soul of the Uni- 
 verse, which 
 
THE INCARNATION. ]^]^5 
 
 " Warms in the sun, refreslies in the breeze, 
 " Glows in the stars, and blossoms in the trees, 
 " Lives through all life, extends through all extent, 
 " Spreads undivided, operates unspent." 
 
 Though these words may be taken in a good sense, the • 
 
 behever craves more than this. He asks for a personal 
 God, to whom his soul, as an individual person, may 
 come. My brethren, I am uttering what may seem 
 a truism; but the age demands clear views on this 
 point. The giant heresy of the age is that which makes 
 the Universe God. Many years ago, the greatest fe- 
 male mind of the day said, " The pubUc secret of Ger- 
 many is Pantheism." That which began in Germany 
 has spread over Prance and surrounding countries, and 
 has appeared among ourselves, in the extravagant teach- 
 ings of the transcendental infidelity. And there is a 
 dreadful tendency in such opinions to gravitate from the 
 schools of philosophy downward to the masses, in the 
 grosser form of downright Atheism. These opinions 
 have mingled themselves to a large extent with the po- 
 Htical revolutions of the continent. Let me cite one of 
 the latest indications : At one of the great conventions 
 in Germany, lately held, the Hessian delegate, Professor 
 Vogt, used the following language : " I am for the sep- 
 aration of Church and State ; but only on condition 
 that what is called the Church be annihilated. The 
 National Assembly must recognise a church of unbe- 
 lief. The time has come, when a man may have per- 
 
116 THE INCARNATIOK 
 
 mission in Germany to be an Atheist." * Sucli are the 
 tendencies of modern philosophy ; and they spread more 
 widely than is thought; among professed, and even 
 among real Christians, their taint is felt ; and, where 
 they cannot destroy faith, they succeed in disturbing it. 
 Thus, a celebrated Christian author of Prussia said to 
 a friend of mine : " O, that I had your views of God ! 
 O, that I could say thou to him, as to a personal God ! " 
 My brethren, the behever can approach his God as a per- 
 son, and with a real, personal, individual affection, as 
 when a man comes to a friend or father. But in order 
 to this, there must be that approach through a Me- 
 diator, which is our principal subject. When Luther 
 said, " I cannot have an absolute God," Nolo Deum 
 absolutum, he expressed a great fundamental truth. As 
 he meant it, the doctrine is, that as a God of Justice, 
 Jehovah cannot be approached by sinners, save through 
 a propitiation. But it is true in another sense: we 
 cannot come to God with a tender, bursting, filial affec- 
 tion, until we behold him manifested in the Son. He 
 is distant, towering, abstract ; the object of awful dread, 
 and marvelling admiration, but not of confiding attach- 
 ment. God must be brought nigher. Those attributes 
 of heavenly fearfalness must be translated into the lan- 
 guage of the heart. The immaterial and evanescent 
 perfections must be presented in some tangible form. 
 In the former division, we saw the provision made for 
 
 * KirchenfreuncI, Feb. 1849. 
 
THE INCARNATION ]^17 
 
 this, in regard to the intellect ; the same provision is 
 equally available in regard to the heart. " God was 
 manifest in the flesh ; " manifest first to the understand- 
 ing, which we have considered ; and, secondly, to the 
 affections. The problem being, Plow is human love to 
 such a being as God possible ? the answer is. We love 
 God by loving Christ. In these simple words is con- 
 tained a lesson of religious experience which would, if 
 properly acted upon, change our whole life. It is by 
 faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, that we behold that as- 
 pect of God, which awakens tender affection. No man 
 cometh unto the Father, but by him. Till this faith 
 arises within us, God is seen far off, in clouds of angry 
 justice. Faith manifests him as full of love, and ready 
 to pardon and adopt ; and aU this through Jesus 
 Christ. 
 
 But here the question presents itself, whether we 
 may encourage our affections to go forth to Christ, as to 
 a personal object of love. This does not seem difficult 
 to one who has in memory the New Testament narra- 
 tive. In those scenes, Jesus moved among his crea- 
 tures as a man, and was the object of tender and gen- 
 erous affections, which are recorded in the book, and 
 are reproduced in ourselves while we read. Is there 
 any believer who reads the four gospels, who does not 
 feel his heart going forth perpetually and increasingly 
 toward the individual character of the Lord Jesus ? He 
 who knows nothing of this, in my judgment, knows 
 nothing yet as he ought to know. It is a sympathy 
 
118 THE mOARNATION. 
 
 with those who surrounded the Son of God when he 
 " was manifest in the flesh." In that narrative, if any- 
 where, he is " altogether lovely." The eye singles him 
 out from among all the scriptural characters, as he 
 walks by the sea of Galilee ; as he opens his hps upon 
 the Mount ; as he heals, and feeds, and comforts ; as 
 he fasts, and prays, and sighs ; as he prepares the disci- 
 ples for his departure ; and as he finally dies upon the 
 cross. It is this "historical Christ," a term used in 
 contempt by Strauss, and his imitators in America, 
 whom we love ; even after his resurrection, when he ap- 
 pears to Mary, to Cleopas, to the Apostles, and when 
 he is caught up from among them into heaven. Now, 
 we have only to reflect, that though in heaven, he is un- 
 changed, "Jesus Christ, the same yesterday, to-day, 
 and forever," to satisfy us, that as truly as he was loved 
 by disciples on earth, so truly he may be loved by us ; 
 and this, not with a vague approval or admiration of 
 abstract virtues, but with a strong and moving individ- 
 ual affection. And this is not contradictory to the spirit 
 of Paul's words, 2 Cor. v. 16 : " Yea, though we have 
 known Christ after the flesh, yet now henceforth know 
 we him no more /' for here the apostle means to con- 
 demn and repudiate his former carnal expectation of 
 Messiah, as a temporal prince. In this very connexion, 
 Paul is so far from condemning a spiritual affection of 
 the Redeemer, that he exclaims ; " Whether we be be- 
 side ourselves it is to God ;" that is, " if as our enemies 
 say, we are transported out of ourselves by enthusiasm. 
 
THE INCARNATION. 
 
 119 
 
 SO as to seem deranged, let them know we are animated 
 by a zeal for God ; for the love of Christ constraineth 
 us ;" or, as the word means, ' bears us away like a 
 strong and resistless torrent.' It is therefore possible 
 and lawful to look on the person of our Redeemer with 
 a strong individual regard ; loving him for every bright 
 virtue, and gentle word, and beneficent act of his hu- 
 man pilgrimage ; and ascribing to him the same excel- 
 lencies, now that he has ascended into heaven. And 
 experience testifies that this love of the Lord Jesus 
 Christ is as true and distinct an emotion, in the Chris- 
 tian's mind, as any which he cherishes towards children 
 or fi-iends. But here the question meets us, How, or in 
 what sense is this the loving of God ? How are we 
 hereby brought any nearer to the Great Supreme ? In 
 replying briefly to this, I must recall to your mind 
 what has been said under another head. That which 
 we love in Jesus Christ, is not his exterior form, of 
 which the Scriptures wisely give us no details ; but the 
 lineaments of his spiritual nature ; the moral features ; 
 the virtues and graces of his inner life ; his humility, 
 faith, devotion, gentleness, meekness, longsuffering, for- 
 titude, courage, benevolence, and truth. These inter- 
 nal beauties are manifested by his words, his works, and 
 his sufierings. The whole Gospel narrative is a record 
 of them, and as we read, we love. We muse upon them 
 when the book is laid down, as we do over the letter of 
 our dearest friend ; nay, we must open it once again, 
 and look at the very words. The picture is formed in 
 
120 T^^ INCARNATION. 
 
 our mind, and rises before us, as that of a distant hus- 
 band to the affectionate wife ; but it is a moral image, 
 and the sum of the traits is hohness. Now, these spir- 
 itual attractions, though manifested to us through a hu- 
 man soul, are nevertheless divine; because Divinity 
 shines through that manhood. The Godhead, yea, the 
 whole undivided Godhead, has its union there with hu- 
 man nature. Nowhere else in the universe is so much 
 of God presented for our adoration, as in the Lord Jesus 
 Christ. With every thought, emotion, and volition of 
 that holy human spirit, there is a present and consent- 
 ing hohness of the Divine Nature. These virtues and 
 graces have two sides : one toward us, and one toward 
 heaven. Toward us, all that our eyes behold, is human ; 
 toward heaven, is the equal and coincident will of di- 
 vinity. Not only so : while Christ Jesus, as a man, is 
 manifesting toward us these perfections and attractions, 
 he is one with God. Though there are two natures, 
 there is but one person : the glorious person who is 
 named Christ. The constitution of this adorable Per- 
 son, was for the very purpose of manifesting God. As 
 has been fully said, we behold more of God in the face 
 of Christ, than elsewhere in all the universe. Is not the 
 question answered, then ? When we love Christ, we 
 love God. We cannot in any way so intelligently love 
 God, as when we love Christ. And therefore, we need 
 not be afraid to let our thoughts and powers go out 
 with all their fulness toward the Son ; we need not be 
 apprehensive lest we defraud the Father of his glory. 
 
THE mCAKNATIOlir. 221 
 
 Christ is God, in human manifestation. The Word 
 was made flesh. God is incarnate, and as incarnate is 
 made onrs : the Only Begotten Son, who is in the bo- 
 som of the Pather, He hath revealed him. The reverse 
 method is not so safe. There are some who are full of 
 high expressions towards God, in general, but who make 
 little of Christ. Having not come by the only way, 
 such persons have no true apprehensions of God. 
 " Whosoever beheveth that Jesus is the Clirist, is bom 
 of God; and every one that loveth him that begat, 
 loveth him also that is begotten of him.'' " He that 
 hath the Son, hath life ; and he that hath not the Son, 
 hath not life." This is a great mystery to the world ; 
 but it is understood by the people of God. It is indeed 
 the great principle of Christianity. But it never could 
 have entered into human minds to conceive it. How new 
 and impossible to be foreseen ! This is the reason it is 
 called a mystery, that, having long been hidden, it is 
 now made known. How influential ! Religious views 
 are no longer cold and inoperative. They are brought 
 within the circle of our heart-affections. The Lord 
 Jesus Christ, so to speak, sits by our fireside. All our 
 natural emotions are brought in as auxiliaries to our love 
 of Christ ; and in loving him, we are performing our 
 great duty to God. And then how delightful ! Here 
 it is, in the love of Christ, that the chief happiness of 
 religion consists. Loving God is no longer an impossi- 
 bility or an abstraction. We are bound to him by ties 
 of humanity, as by the " bonds of a man ;*' for, " we 
 
222 THE INCARNATION. 
 
 are members of his body, of his flesh, and of his 
 bones." 
 
 "The great proof that this view is correct, is derived 
 from an inspection of the New Testament ; for there we 
 see it to be the view of the early Christians. If, on 
 looking at these records, we had found it to be other- 
 wise ; if, for example, we had found, either that the 
 Redeemer was spoken of as one to whom no tribute of 
 affection could properly be paid, because he is only a 
 deceased man; or, that the Son of God is too highly 
 exalted, and too far removed, for us to visit him with 
 our affection ; then, indeed, we should have had good 
 cause to reject all the doctrine which has been proposed. 
 But this doctrine meets full confirmation in primitive 
 experience. " Our fellowship," says the Apostle John, 
 " is with the Father, and with his Son Jesus Christ." 
 " Whom, having not seen," says Peter, " ye love." He 
 addresses himself to the body of Christians in many 
 countries ; it was the common experience of the age. 
 They loved the unseen Christ. They looked for " that 
 blessed hope and the glorious appearing of the great 
 God and our Saviour Jesus Christ." And it was so 
 radical a distinction between the Christian and the 
 world, that Paul, in his zeal, declares, " If any man 
 love not the Lord Jesus Christ, let Mm be anathema 
 maranatha." And after apostohc days, this personal 
 love to the Lord Jesus was the characteristic of disci- 
 ples. The expression of the martyr Ignatius is cele- 
 brated, in its Latin version : Amor meus crucifixus 
 
THE INCAKNATION. ]^23 
 
 EST ! I must go further, my brethren, and say, that 
 this is the great lesson of evangehcal Christianity. 
 Wherever vital piety decays, this decays. It takes its 
 flight long before the alteration of creeds or the denial 
 of doctrines ; for there may be an age of cold ortho- 
 doxy unenhvened by one beam of love to the Redeemer. 
 But when this affection has fled, sound doctrine soon 
 prepares to spread its wings likewise. For a time 
 there may be accurate metaphysical discussion, contro- 
 versy about tenets, and even persecution for differences. 
 But by degrees the Cross is thrust into a corner ; and 
 at length the propitiatory work of Christ is extenuated 
 or forgotten. The Atonement being tarnished or ex- 
 ploded, the Godhead of Christ is soon found to be 
 superfluous. There is no need of a divine Redeemer 
 under that easy system of Hberal Christianity in which 
 every man is his own saviour. This may account for 
 the known fact, that among those who reject the Trin- 
 ity, small account is made of personal love towards the 
 Lord Jesus Christ. The too frequent allusion to his 
 double nature and to his redeeming blood becomes 
 offensive, and the people are in a fair way to forget 
 that there ever were such spots as Gethsemane or 
 Golgotha. Whereas, in direct opposition to this, when- 
 ever vital piety revives, there is a marked revival of love 
 to Jesus Christ. It was so at the Reformation, and it 
 will be more gloriously so in the centuries of Hght 
 which are to come. Wherever a genuine convert is 
 made from heathenism, his heart is expanded with a 
 
I24i THE INOAKNATION. 
 
 new affection, love to the crucified Redeemer. In 
 their best moments, Christians of every age and country- 
 have risen in love to God manifest in the flesh. This 
 is witnessed by the thousands of hymns and spiritual 
 songs in which Christian affection has poured itself 
 forth in all the languages of Christendom. We need not 
 except the Greek and Latin hymns of the early church, 
 before the rise of papacy : some of which have provi- 
 dentially been retained even among many corruptions. 
 The lyric effusion of some favoured moment of un- 
 wonted transport in an individual saint, being consigned 
 to the care of poetry and music, thus became part of 
 the worship of the whole church. At the Reformation, 
 songs in an unknown tongue were suddenly exchanged 
 for those in the vulgar tongues, and thousands of hymns 
 to Christ burst forth over Gennany, Switzerland, Hol- 
 land, France, and Britain. The piety thus reviving 
 continued from century to century, and for the same 
 object. So far from shunning the death of the Lord, it 
 was Christ on the cross that, above all things, attracted 
 their hearts, because it was here that most was seen of 
 God manifest in the flesh. How many a night of 
 afiliction has been brightened by this vision! How 
 many a dying Up has made the name of Jesus its last 
 articulation ! 
 
V. 
 
 THE WORLDLING. 
 
THE WORLDLINa * 
 
 PniLippiAirs iii. 19. 
 
 " Who mind earthly things." 
 
 The pencil of inspiration, by one rapid sweep, often 
 depicts a whole class of human souls. In the present 
 instance, the view given of ungodly men, in a single 
 fearful aspect, is important enough to be severed from 
 its most interesting context, and made the object of our 
 profound consideration. The apostle, with deep Chris- 
 tian feehng, is here describing the people of the world. 
 He closes this description with the hint which I have 
 selected. It is the portrait of all unrenewed persons, 
 however widely they may differ in other respects. They 
 mind earthly things. The word is peculiar in its force ; 
 they set their minds upon earthly things, think of 
 
 * New York, October 8, 1852. 
 
22-8 THE WORLDLING. 
 
 them, think much of them, yea, constantly and su- 
 premely. Earthly things, and not heavenly, fill their 
 minds and occupy their regard and affections. And 
 this charge, which to careless, unenhghtened souls may 
 seem quite a trifling one, is so grave in Paul's estima- 
 tion, that it moves him to tears, and he weeps while he 
 writes. It is this minding of earthly things, as charac- 
 teristic of unbelieving men, which we are about briefly 
 to consider. 
 
 Readers of the Scriptures have observed that two 
 great opposing spheres are often held up to view ; one 
 as engaging the hearts of the ungodly and one of the 
 godly. They are the earth and heaven, verses 19, 20, 
 this world and the world to come ; things visible and 
 things invisible ; the present and the future ; the world 
 and Christ; Mammon and God. All these are the 
 same in substance ; and the contrast or opposition is 
 complete and irreconcilable. According to these two 
 sets of objects, or two worlds as we may call them, the 
 whole race of men is divided into two portions ; the 
 World, an expressive term for all that is opposed to God 
 and the Church, or people of the Hving God. 
 
 It may as clearly be presumed that the noble crea- 
 ture whom we call man, was not made to spend his 
 powers on passing sublunary things, as that he was not 
 made to browse with the ox or grovel with the serpent. 
 A consideration of his powers shows that he was des- 
 tined for eternity and for God. Revelation has for its 
 great end to set before him the objects which are suited 
 
THE WORLDLING. 229 
 
 to these capacities. Their residence in the present Hfe 
 is a period of grace, in which men under the gospel are 
 invited to rise from earthly towards heavenly things ; 
 and it is the principal work of the Holy Spirit to invite, 
 wm and attract men to the pursuit and enjoyment of 
 spiritual realities. 
 
 Notwithstanding which, we have before us the con- 
 tinual spectacle of the majority of mankind worshipping 
 the creature, forgetting God, and hving for the present 
 fleeting hour. For them, heaven and hell, the law and 
 its satisfaction, eternity and God, are as though they 
 were not ; sending forth no moulding influence. For 
 them, the present world is heaven enough, if they could 
 only make it sure ; and they would rejoice in a decree, 
 which should fix their abode here forever. Let us look 
 a Httle more closely at this side of our conunon human 
 nature. 
 
 It requires but a glance at the busy crowds around 
 us to perceive that the great things of the soul and of 
 eternity do not absorb their chief interest. Whether 
 you judge them by their words or their company, by 
 what they do or leave undone, you find them to be " of 
 the earth, earthy." This is the more striking, when you 
 contrast with it their high-wrought zeal in all that con- 
 cerns the present life. When personal honour and ap- 
 plause or family distinction are in view, no labour seems 
 too great ; and under the goad of fashionable rivalry, 
 they expend language, time, and even thousands of 
 money, which proves too well how much they are in 
 9 
 
130 THE WORLDLING. 
 
 earnest. In this race they will suffer none to leave 
 them behind ; and we have lived to see high professors 
 in the church, whose manner of household life, equipage, 
 and entertainments, leave us marveUing what those 
 pomps and vanities of the world can be, which they 
 have renounced as followers of Christ, or where we are 
 to look for cross-bearing, godly simplicity, and self- 
 denial. Our Lord certainly had a meaning when he set 
 forth the imminent peril to the soul, which comes from 
 worldly riches ; and I suppose the wealth against which 
 he warned his followers, was less than that of many who 
 hear me, but who feel no danger. The way in which 
 worldly possessions jeopard the soul, is by occupying 
 the affections, leading the heart away from God and 
 divine things, to take its contentment in the good things 
 of this life. This is serving Mammon ; making a god 
 of present things ; giving the supreme regard to that 
 which is perishing ; and it is declared to be inconsistent 
 with the love of God. The minister of the gospel, as 
 one '* who must give account," must not shun to exhibit 
 this danger to those who are possessed of worldly 
 goods. Whether they will hear or forbear, his com- 
 mission is explicit : " Charge them that are rich in this 
 world, that they be not high-minded, nor trust in un- 
 certain riches, but in the living God, who giveth us 
 richly all things to enjoy." The trusting in riches, 
 here intended, is the setting of the mind on them as the 
 source of comfort ; making them a staff and stay ; re- 
 lying on them, as a provision against trouble ; indulging 
 
THE WORLDLING. ][3]^ 
 
 a secret complacency in them, as making us better 
 than others, who have lost them or have never attained 
 them ; and flattering ourselves at the supposed security 
 of om^ own acquisitions, as compared with the precarious 
 fortunes of others. Those who so Hve, whether in the 
 church or out of it, are minding earthly things and 
 estranging their hearts from the Hving God, who giveth 
 us all things richly to enjoy. 
 
 But it would be unwise to limit our view of the 
 earthliness of worldly riches to the use which is made 
 of them while actually possessed. A large part of the 
 human family is engaged in the hot pursuit ; some 
 with success, and many more with disappointment. 
 This variety in the result makes no difference, however, 
 in the temper of mind with which the seeming goal is 
 sought. We need only open our eyes, at mid- day, in 
 any great commercial city, to learn that this is the prime 
 mover in all the complex and indescribable commotion 
 of human business. Mistake me not; I am not de- 
 nouncing activity in business, or even the pursuit of 
 wealth, simply considered. As a chief instrument of 
 happiness in this life, it may be sought in different de- 
 grees and from different motives ; moderately or im- 
 moderately ; selfishly or benevolently ; with an entire 
 absorption in the creature, or with an hourly reference 
 of all to God. But I will affirm, and none will soberly 
 deny it, that, as a matter of fact, the multitude, the 
 majority, the mass of men thus engaged day and night 
 with impetuous, feverish, often delirious haste, are actu- 
 
232 ^^^ WORLDLING. 
 
 ated by no impulses but those which spring from the 
 creature, and thus that they mind earthly things. This 
 is what they live for ; for this they make their sacri- 
 fices and run their risks. This occupies their thoughts, 
 at rising, and as they hurry through the great emporium, 
 at desks and places of trade, in the retirement of the 
 evening and the intervals of night. It is this which 
 excludes prayer, meditation, the Scriptures, the care of 
 the soul, the seekuig of Christ's kingdom and righteous- 
 ness. The desire is not quenched by successes. No 
 philosopher has discovered the point at which insatiable 
 avarice can consent to admit that it is rich enough. 
 We know of no principle recognised by the world on this 
 point, but this, that every man must be as rich as he 
 can. Great accumulations do but stimulate the appe- 
 tite for more, and the close of life, instead of being de- 
 voted to quiet preparation for death and eternity, is 
 frequently harassed by more vexing cares of acquisition 
 than its youthful dawn. The point of the charge is^ 
 that God is shut out. For this no reasonable and im- 
 mortal creature can frame an apology. He drives a 
 hazardous bargain who barters away his opportunity of 
 salvation. " For what shall a man give in exchange 
 for his soul ! " Yet look abroad, and behold the face 
 of society. The broad and thronged avenue is filled 
 with human beings, rushing towards the gates of death, 
 all engrossed in that which perishes even while it is 
 obtained. We need no longer wonder that the church 
 dwindles, and that few are added to the company of 
 
1^ 
 
 THE WORLDLING. ^33 
 
 God's people. There is a contagion in the evil, and 
 every day fresh thousands yield themselves to the same 
 impulse. Unless God break the spell, unless he seize 
 upon them by the strong hand of the Spirit, these de- 
 luded beings will die as they have lived, and, plunging 
 into a state whither they can carry no earthly gains, 
 will learn by experience what it is to gain the world 
 and lose their own souls. 
 
 The brief description of the text includes the lovers 
 of pleasure. Either in ihe pauses of business, or as 
 their whole employment, great numbers of persons 
 spend their time in seeking amusement, recreation, the 
 satisfying of curiosity, appetite or passion. This host 
 includes most who are in youth, but many also who 
 tread on the confines of age. It needs no laboured ar- 
 gument to show that these mind earthly things. They 
 are living as though they had no souls. They are lovers 
 of pleasure more than lovers of God. It is common to 
 speak of such as amiable and good-natured, or as in- 
 juring none but themselves. But no persons are more 
 intensely selfish, than the confirmed devotees of pleasure. 
 Their motto is. Who will show us any good ? What 
 shall we eat, and what shall we drink, and wherewithal 
 shall we be clothed ? There are none more bound to 
 the earth. There is no temper more incompatible with 
 religion, or with the serious pursuit of it. Hence the 
 reiterated injunctions of our Lord to those who would 
 follow him, to leave all, to deny themselves, and to take 
 up the cross daily. Hence also the striking admonitory 
 
134 THE WORLDLING. 
 
 pictures of the rich man clad in purple and fine linen, 
 and faring sumptuously every day ; of the young ruler, 
 who went away sorrowful ; and of him who said to his 
 soul, " Take thine ease ; eat, drink, and be merry." 
 The entertainments and pleasures of an easy life destroy 
 tens of thousands, who nevertheless never fall into open 
 and flagrant vices. Satan's end is sufficiently gained, 
 when, by immersing them in thoughts of the present 
 world, he can keep them away from all consideration of 
 eternal things. 
 
 What a horrid fraud Satan is practising on the 
 church, in regard to the daughters of the covenant ! 
 In fashionable circles — dare I name them Christian — • 
 the years where girlhood merges into maturity are fre- 
 quently sold to the adversary. The young American 
 woman is taught to deem herself a goddess. If there be 
 wealth, if there be accomplishment, if there be beauty, 
 almost a miracle seems necessary to prevent the loss of 
 the soul. Behold her pass from the pedestal to the 
 altar. The charming victim is decked for sacrifice. 
 Every breath that comes to her is incense. Her very 
 studies are to fit her for admiration. Day and night 
 the gay but wretched maiden is taught to think of self 
 and selfish pleasures. Till some Lenten fashion of 
 solemnity interrupt the whirl, the season is too short 
 for the engagements. Grave parents shake their heads 
 at magnificent apparel, costly gems, night turned into 
 day, dances at which Romans would have blushed, pale 
 cheeks, bending frames, threatened decay ; and yet they 
 
THE WORLDUNG. 
 
 135 
 
 allow and submit. And thus that sex, whicli ought to 
 shew the sweet unselfish innocency of a holy youth, is 
 carried to the overheated temples of Pleasure. Thus 
 the so-called Christian verifies the apostle's maxim, 
 " She that hveth in pleasure is dead while she hveth." 
 
 But it is needless to classify worldlings. Their 
 number is so great that we can scarcely move without 
 encountering them ; and it is well if we do not find our- 
 selves infected with the same disease. The god of this 
 world has brought them under his incantation, by 
 blinding their minds. He magnifies to their apprehen- 
 sions the gains and exaltations of sensible things ; he 
 colours the pleasures of life; he shuts out the future, the 
 spiritual and the divine. That ardour with which they 
 nm their short career, would be worthy of a better ob- 
 ject. Alas for them ! they are building on the sea-sand, 
 and the tempestuous waves will soon overwhelm their 
 confidence. 
 
 Let me very earnestly put it to the mind and con- 
 science of every hearer, whether he belongs to this class 
 or not. The Scriptures divide the aggregate of aU that 
 the human soul can pursue with desire into two great 
 worlds, the earthly and the heavenly. Every man hving 
 is intent on one or the other ; and no man can attain 
 both. There can be no compromise. Ye cannot serve 
 God and Mammon. Ye cannot mind earthly things, 
 and at the same time mind heavenly things. If any 
 man love the world, the love of the Father is not in him. 
 Nay, he that loves the world is at enmity vnih God. 
 
136 THE WORLDLING. 
 
 So imich is at stake, that you cannot be too earnest in 
 the self-examination. Here you may bring your inward 
 character to a test. Ask not whether you have at some 
 former period been admitted to the external church ; 
 thousands have been thus admitted, without any change 
 of nature. But ask, which of these two worlds has 
 your heart ? Are you Hving under the power of the 
 world to come ? Does its awful shadow fall across 
 your path, and give solemnity to your purposes ? Do 
 you go about the business of every day imder the deep 
 impression that all these things are perishing, that this 
 is not your rest, that presently God your Judge, whose 
 penetrating eye is always upon you, will call you hence, 
 to give an account of the deeds done in the body ? 
 Are you seeking a home and kingdom which cannot be 
 moved ? Is your treasure laid up in heaven, and is 
 your heart there ? Do you look for your choicest grati- 
 fications in divine things, in heavenly truth, and in 
 communion with God ? Are you jealous of every thing, 
 however usual or valuable among men, which removes 
 your thoughts from the great invisible world in which 
 your true possessions lie ? And do you feel yourself a 
 pilgrim, who can enjoy no settled and satisfying rest 
 till you reach a world from which sin is to be forever 
 absent ? These are questions which admit of an answer. 
 Or, on the other hand, are your thoughts at waking 
 wholly upon the things of time and earth? Do these 
 things occupy your most active endeavours and employ 
 your words ? Are you bent with all your energies on 
 
THE WORLDLING. X37 
 
 the acquisition or preservation of gain, pleasure, ease, 
 or fame ? And is this so fully your turn of mind, that 
 you seldom pray, or seldom with any engagement of 
 heart ; seldom think of God ; seldom meditate on the 
 eternity to which you are hastening ; and seldom feel 
 your sins to be such a burden as to force you to flee to 
 Christ for reHef? Such is the case of many, of most; 
 and if it be yours, then know assuredly that you mind 
 earthly things. 
 
 But I am not permitted to leave you with the bare 
 conviction that this is your state. A superficial per- 
 suasion of this, as an undoubted fact, has often come 
 over you, without producing any change in your way of 
 life. Consider with me, I pray you, the quahty, char- 
 acter and end of this your chosen course. 
 
 1. To mind earthly things, as the great paramount 
 object, is degrading. It is unworthy of an immortal 
 inteUigence. You were made for better things. You 
 were no more framed to fill your boundless capacities 
 with these fleeting vanities, than to take the pleasure 
 of the beast, bird, or insect. That nature of yours 
 was once in the image of God, and still sighs for a 
 restitution, which, through grace, is attainable. The 
 course you pursue beUes and repudiates your im- 
 mortahty. Your animated breathless chase of these 
 temporalities, when translated into its true import, 
 speaks thus : " Let us eat and drink, for to-morrow we 
 die." You are prostitutiag a noble instrument to an 
 ignoble use. This is the secret cause of those disgusts 
 
138 THE WORLDLING. 
 
 which you often feel. Earthly things have not done for 
 you that which they promised. They have not made 
 you happy ; they have often left you weary, sated, dis- 
 appointed, and smarting. Some of your earlier pleasures 
 have abeady lost their exquisite zest. Increase of years 
 has brought weakness, repining, and bitterness. Accu- 
 mulation of worldly goods has failed to give you com- 
 fort in proportion. Nay, if you will own the mortifying 
 truth, you are less tranquil and satisfied than in former 
 days. Many things on which you relied, have been 
 taken from you, and for many that remain your appe- 
 tite has died away. The foam of your brimming cup 
 has been blown away, and you are endeavouring to 
 cheer yourself with the dregs. Confess it, O my earthly 
 hearer, and add the solemn consideration, that you are 
 a spiritual, immortal, and accountable being, who will 
 before long be hurried into the presence of Eternal 
 Judgment. In reference to this, your great and cer- 
 tain destiny, the objects which interest you have no 
 weight, except to condemn you. Having lived so long, 
 you have not yet begun to hve in view of your endless 
 existence ; and painful as is the charge, it is nevertheless 
 just, that your whole course thus far has been such as 
 to lower the true dignity of your nature, as one of God's 
 immortal creatures. 
 
 2. To mind earthly things involves incalculable loss. 
 Men are prompt to avoid losses in that which concerns 
 worldly possessions. But those who hve altogether for 
 this life, lose an entire class of pleasures and benefits. 
 
THE WORLDLING. Jgg 
 
 To them one avenue of happiuess, and that the greatest, 
 is closed. The higher faculties of the soul are unem- 
 ployed. The gifts and consolations and dehghts of re- 
 ligion are unknown to them. Communion with God 
 — a wide, expressive term — ^is all a mystery. They 
 lose the pleasures of holy truth, and the witness of a 
 conscience pacified by the blood of Christ. They lose 
 the intercourse of faith and devotion with an unseen 
 world and a benignant Saviour ; the calm, hopeful an- 
 ticipation of death ; and the rapturous contemplation of 
 glories yet in reserve. They lose the sense of God's 
 favour and the consciousness that they have entered on 
 a progress of disciphne and improvement which shall 
 never end. In a word, they lose all that we mean by 
 religion. 
 
 To some of you, my hearers, this seems no great 
 loss. So wedded are you to the world, your idol, that 
 you can look for happiness to no other source; no, not 
 even to God. Yet I am bound to protest to you, that 
 Wisdom's ways are ways of pleasantness ; and that you 
 forsake them to your infinite loss. 
 
 3. Hear me yet further, when I solemnly declare to 
 you, that to mind earthly things is to incur fearful 
 guilt. It is sinful. It is contrary to God's holy will, 
 and to his express commandment. It is wounding to 
 your conscience, which still makes you feel the difier- 
 ence between right and wrong, and rebukes and pun- 
 ishes you for this habitual sin of yoiu" Hfe. You admit 
 to yourselves, that you were not made for this world 
 
140 '''HE WORLDLING. 
 
 only ; that you are the creatures and subjects of God, 
 bound to do his pleasure, and that he demands of 
 you to love him with heart, soul, strength, and mind. 
 No doubt there have been moments in which your 
 worldly pleasures have been embittered by the thought, 
 that you were enjoying them in opposition to the known 
 will of your Creator, Benefactor, and Preserver. Look- 
 ing back on the long course of years, which you have 
 spent without God, you have no moral complacency in 
 it. It has not been the life which a dependent, favoured 
 creature should have led. To have thus preferred cre- 
 ated things to God, and made them the source of your 
 happiness, to the exclusion of the Great Supreme, must 
 appear to you, in any honest retrospect, all glaring 
 with the colours of idolatry. It is ample ground of 
 condemnation, that you have not made choice of God, 
 but year after year have made choice of the world. 
 And the proper consideration of this might bring you 
 to repentance and to the foot of the cross. O that you 
 could be induced to. meditate profoundly on this charge 
 brought against the ungodly world, that they mind 
 earthly things ! 
 
 4. To mind earthly things involves peril of eternal 
 destruction. I use a strong term, because the strongest 
 I can use is hkely to leave the worldly mind unim- 
 pressed. Yes, the man who deliberately chooses this 
 world sets himself against God ; and, oh, how unequal 
 is the contest ! He has his reward. In this life he 
 has his good things, and many a despised Lazarus evil 
 
THE WORLDLmG. 
 
 141 
 
 things ; but you remember the reverse, indicated by 
 the parallel. The world passeth away and the lust 
 thereof. All that is in the world, the lust of the flesh, 
 the lust of the eye, and the pride of hfe, all is rapidly 
 fleeing ; and when it has fled, the worldling's heaven 
 has fled with it. Here, in this present state, he chose 
 his paradise. No eyes had he to behold any thing be- 
 yond. Revelation and its ministers warned him of the 
 unstable basis on which' he was i*earing his tall and 
 costly structure, and sought to win him or alarm him 
 to take the glass and look towards that city which hath 
 foundations. But in vain. In all this he could make 
 out nothing like reahty, nothing to be an actuating mo- 
 tive. Living amidst the things of sense, and alive 
 every moment to their palpable pressure, he took into 
 none of his accounts that invisible state whose awful 
 sweep, comprising God and angels and saints and all 
 that is holy and ennobling, encircled him; nor that 
 solemn eternity into which he was about to make the 
 irrevocable plunge. And when the hour struck, which 
 he so dreaded while he scarcely beheved, the hour of 
 his separation and departure, it found him still with 
 clenched hands, striving to retain the things of time, 
 and torn away bleeding and despairing from the earth 
 which he had preferred to God. Read his doom in the 
 brief but pregnant words of the context : Whose end is 
 destruction ! It is the lot of those who forget God. 
 
 There is reason to fear, that more are incurring 
 this danger than are willing to believe it. The very 
 
142 THE WORLDLING. 
 
 closeness of their attacliment to the objects of sense 
 makes them insusceptible of impressions from divine 
 realities. In regard to these, they hear as though they 
 heard not ; Hstening to the voice of admonition as the 
 antediluvians listened to the forebodings of Noah, or as 
 the men of the plain received the warnings of Lot. For 
 persons thus infatuated, what hope can there be ? What 
 shall hinder their dying as they have hved ? Nothing 
 human, my brethren, but a bold, sudden and determinate 
 resolution, to give up this world for the sake of another ; 
 to distrust the specious fallacies of sense and give cre- 
 dence to the testimony of God. Here, indeed, I am 
 made to feel my own insufficiency. How solemn is the 
 position of a minister of Christ ! Placed amidst perish- 
 ing feUow-mortals, to entreat them to escape from im- 
 pending ruin, he finds them deaf to all his arguments 
 and solicitations. Year after year he comes to them, with 
 such pleas and motives as his closest research and most 
 earnest prayers can enable him to offer. Yet he finds 
 the same hardness and resistance only augmented, as 
 years roll on and the cords of evil habit are wound 
 about them more indissolubly. One after another drops 
 away, whom we dare scarcely follow in their flight into 
 the worlds unknown. The ranks close upon the vacan- 
 cies they make, and the battle of cupidity, pleasure, and 
 ambition rages on as before. It is in such circum- 
 stances that we lend a wistful ear to the oracle which 
 proclaims from heaven, " Not by might, nor by power, 
 but by my Spirit, saith the Lord of hosts." Our wait- 
 
THE WORLDLING. 243 
 
 ing eyes are unto God, for the outpouring of his Holy 
 Spirit. And next to this, and as instrumental of this, 
 our appeal is to the professed people of God, that they 
 would join their prayers for the awakening and conver- 
 sion of an ungodly world. It was the contemplation 
 of souls thus besotted and endangered, which extorted 
 from Paul the pathetic burst which accompanies my 
 text : " Por many walk of whom I have told you often, 
 and now tell you even weeping, whose end is destruc- 
 tion, who mind earthly things ! " Beloved brethren, 
 I should hail it as the brightest promise which has ever 
 gilded these feeble labours among you, if there should 
 be apparent in the midst of us a deep, extensive, and 
 tender concern in the hearts of professing Christians, for 
 those who are wedded to earthly things. Suffer me, 
 with aU sincerity, to commend this to you as a subject 
 suitable for your prayers ; in private, in your families, in 
 social devotion, and in the house of God. For unless it 
 please God to send revival, our outward increase will 
 be but the signal for our inward decay. 
 
 If numbers were strength we should be strong. 
 But mere numbers are fallacious. If souls are not 
 brought to God by converting grace, in due proportion, 
 our extension is but a weakening process, resulting in 
 unhealthy plethora. Let me confess it, my respected 
 brethren, the thought often occurs to me, that of this 
 sort of enlargement we already have too much ; it may 
 be our temptation and our snare ; it may invoke God's 
 chastening. If we are selfish, if we wrap ourselves up 
 
X44 THE WORLDLING. 
 
 in complacency, if we " number the people," if we sum 
 up the wealth represented within these walls, for any 
 purpose except to rebuke our sin and quicken our ac- 
 tivity, if we hug our easy privileges, and refuse to 
 break the charm and go forth to the help of weaker con- 
 gregations ; we may confidently expect, first checks and 
 then visitations. When I look fearfully upon this great, 
 compact, and harmonious assembly, and consider its 
 resources and strength, and then around us and near us 
 behold numerous weak and struggling churches, which 
 need money far less than they need men, I cannot resist 
 the conviction, that a considerable body of self-denying 
 men, with their families, ought, by concerted action, to 
 go forth as an evangehcal colony ; and if the fifty best 
 and ablest of the flock should do so to-morrow, while 
 friendship would weep over the wound, I should give 
 thanks over it, as the best day of my Hfe. But to pro- 
 duce such dispositions we need a new spirit. Christian 
 professors, to whom we look as leaders, will have to 
 learn fresh lessons of moderation, temperance, and re- 
 gard for weak brethren. They will have to separate 
 the amusements of their children by a more visible line 
 from the amusements of a world lying in wickedness. 
 They will cease to plead for Baal, and to frame excuses 
 for all that their soul lusteth after. Religion will be- 
 come the grand, paramount aff'air of Hfe. Heavenly 
 joys over the salvation of the offspring whom you have 
 encouraged to prefer every thing to God, will render 
 needless and even abhorrent the worldly pleasures in 
 
THE WORLDLING. ]^45 
 
 which you now inconsistently indulge. How shall this 
 change be brought about ? Know ye, that God has 
 manifold ways of effecting it ; and among these the 
 way of trial and affliction. If you are his, he will use 
 even this, rather than suffer you to perish. Let our 
 eyes be unto the Lord, saying with intense desire, 
 " Wilt thou not revive us again, that thy people may 
 rejoice in thee ! " 
 
 10 
 
VI. 
 
 THE SCOBNEB 
 
THE SCORNER* 
 
 Pboverbs iii. 34. 
 Surely He scometh the scomers." 
 
 That mode of irreligion which the wisest of kings 
 so often stigmatizes mider the name of scorning, makes 
 itself known in every age. It is the derision of that 
 which is good, and has its origia in ignorance, folly, 
 and sin. The contempt, sometimes producing ridicule, 
 which scoffs at wisdom and hohness, is begotten of 
 that pride which " was not made for man," and which 
 is hateful to God. To despise that which is heavenly 
 is not a lower degree of wickedness, but passes the bor- 
 ders of the flagitious. Hence we should regard the 
 very beginnings of such a temper with great jealousy, 
 and should be willing to examine its signs and nature, 
 
 * New York, Febraary 21, 1858. 
 
150 "^^^^ SCORNER. 
 
 in order to secure ourselves against its contagion. In 
 treating the subject, we shall find it profitable to begin 
 with lower degrees of the evil, and thence to trace its 
 progress. To laugh or jeer in regard to that which dis- 
 pleases us is from a disposition which needs no artificial 
 fostering. The opinion of Lord Shaftesbury, that " Ridi- 
 cule is the test of falsehood," will find few serious de- 
 fenders in our day. The laugher's side is not always 
 the side of reason ; as we might show by referring to 
 the ridicule heaped upon many a great enterprise and 
 improvement in science and art ; the satire lasting in 
 almost every case until it was put to shame by manifest 
 success. That form of impotent contempt which we 
 caU sneer, belongs by pre-eminence to those who are to 
 some extent conscious of being least armed with reason. 
 Many a mischievous hand can fiing the fire-cracker or 
 the squib, which could neither wield the sword nor aim 
 the rifle. Those were not aU heroes who " called for 
 Samson out of the prison-house," that he might make 
 sport for them. All the world over, the derisive portion 
 will be found the weakest ; and this upon solid prin- 
 ciples. The love of truth and practice of goodness, 
 always allied, have a certain pure simphcity and candid 
 uprightness which disincline the mind to take pleasure 
 in the inferiority of others. Whatever in us is unself- 
 ish and benignant revolts against making spoil of a 
 neighbour's dehnquency. And, with reverence be it 
 said, the trait is divine, for " God is mighty and de- 
 spiseth not any." Job. xxxvi. 5. But ridicule cast on 
 
THE SCORNER. 25| 
 
 our fellows proceeds from contempt, and contempt is a 
 mode of pride. Hence the lower down we go in the 
 scale of jnorals and civiHzation, the greater fondness do 
 we find for the language of scornful raillery. Little 
 minds, incompetent to forge or handle massive links of 
 argument, find a petty satisfaction in teazing, cavil, and 
 sarcastic irony. The number of such minds is greater 
 than that of powerful reasoners and men of insight, and 
 we must be content to leave them in the enjoyment of 
 their characteristic warfare. Their buzzing assaults on 
 religion are perpetually reminding one of the lesser but 
 annoying plagues of Egypt. And such characters, 
 fond of vexatious sayings, and growing in piquancy as 
 they fall into the " sere and yeUow leaf," need much 
 grace to keep them from becoming scoffers. 
 
 The evil of ungenerous contempt and acrid censure 
 becomes more imminent where there is some pretension 
 to wit or humour. Very few of a thousand possess 
 wit ; scarcely one of the thousand does not sometimes 
 attempt it. Perhaps there has never been an age which 
 so overvalued the ludicrous, in speech and literature, as 
 this of ours. The populace cries out for what is comic on 
 the stage, and on the platform ; and the periodical jour- 
 nal is incomplete, unless, like noble houses in the olden 
 time, it maintains its clown. The wise man had this in 
 his eye, when he said : " As the crackHng of thorns 
 under a pot, so is the laughter of the fool. This also is 
 vanity." Ecc. vii. 6. We would contentedly leave the 
 jester to wear his motley, if he confined his witticism to 
 
152 '^^^ SCORNER. 
 
 his own ring ; but when he brings his gibes and grim- 
 aces into the sanctuary of God, and seeks to provoke 
 mirth with holy things, we must silence and debar him. 
 And yet how common is it to connect divine subjects 
 with the ludicrous, and even the burlesque. As true 
 wit involves some surprise, some unexpected turn, some 
 sudden apposition of opposites, that which is false finds 
 a certain spurious zest in low, trivial, even vile sugges- 
 tions, forced into contrast with ideas of Eternity and 
 God. Therefore, as a har will swear in his common 
 talk to add credence to his doubtful word, and a fool 
 will throw imprecations into the scale to give weight to 
 his feeble reasoning, so your vulgar jester resorts to pro- 
 fane abuse of rehgious objects, that he may startle the 
 scrupulous, or extort laughter from the stupid. A 
 verse of Scripture, a psalm or hymn, the text of a dis- 
 course, or some chance expression in a sermon, serves 
 such a one, even with repetition, as a counterfeit coin 
 serves a sharper. The mental poverty, the irreverence, 
 and even the lewdness, of such pretenders, render them, 
 sooner or later, disgusting to all whose judgment is 
 worth asking. But their folly and degradation are less 
 to be regarded by us than their sin ; for we violate the 
 Third Commandment when we trifle with God's name, 
 titles, and worship, or when we profane his Word by 
 associations which are ludicrous. So that I would 
 solemnly charge it upon those who do not wish to de- 
 stroy souls, that they shun with pious fear all tales, an- 
 ecdotes, and jests, which defile by their touch any 
 
THE SCORNER 
 
 153 
 
 Scriptural passage, and that they avoid the intercourse 
 of those debased minds who descend to such resources. 
 
 The great adversary of souls has so many snares for 
 the feet of pilgrims, that we cannot be too wary in re- 
 gard to the imperceptible passage from what seems in- 
 nocent or venial, to what is reaUy wicked. From idle 
 words about God's holy Scripture, youthful heedless- 
 ness is beguiled step by step, into by-paths of positive 
 impiety. Satan's emissaries are generally near, ready 
 to help on the error. Seducers try their victims first 
 by milder approaches ; and he or she who listens with- 
 out protest or indignation, is beheved to invite further 
 liberties. If your unclean but amusing friend finds 
 you tolerant of his ridiculous parody on a prophet and 
 apostle, or the Lord himself, he will make bold to vent 
 a sneer at doctrine, at principle, at law, at the gospel, 
 at the very Cross of the Blessed Jesus. Beware, my 
 youthful friend, how you cross the threshold of irrever- 
 ence. The conversation of wdcked persons is danger- 
 ous, their intimacy is defiling, their settled friendship is 
 destructive. Walk not " in the counsel of the ungod- 
 ly ;" stand not " in the way of sinners," lest at length 
 you come to sit " in the seat of the scornful." 
 
 The beginnings of all transgression are remote, and 
 the descents gradual. The soul would fly back in hor- 
 ror, if those extreme turpitudes were proposed, to which 
 it wiU nevertheless come at length. Hence the derision 
 of heavenly things must be presented at first under 
 some less appalling form. Por example, nothing is es- 
 
254 THE SCORNER. 
 
 teemed more lawful and acceptable in society, than 
 ridicule of professing Christians. Their preciseness and 
 supposed hypocrisy, their alleged breaches of engage- 
 ment, their singularities of life or devotion, especially 
 their real failings, backslidings and sins, become almost 
 the stock in trade of the small dealer in church scandal. 
 One might readily think, from the censor's complacent 
 chuckle over the inconsistencies and falls of Christians, 
 that every such delinquent was a scape-goat to bear away 
 his own sins. Every successive generation has had its 
 several crop of disparaging or opprobrious names, by 
 which to designate God's children, in the dictionary of 
 the scorner. They are the * Zealots,' ' Devotees,' ' Pre- 
 cisians,' * Puritans,' ' Methodists,' the ' Saints,' the 
 * Godly.' " They that sit in the gate, speak against 
 me," says the Psalmist, " and I was the song of the 
 drunkards." * The gatherings of ungodly men, in all 
 ages, have been enlivened by the grateful strain of a de- 
 rision aimed at serious and conscientious persons ; and 
 the playhouse, a synagogue of Satan, shakes with vo- 
 ciferous mirth, when the scruples of pure minds are 
 held up to contempt. The prophet declares his separa- 
 tion from such assemblages : Jer. xv. 17 : "I sat not 
 in the assembly of mockers, nor rejoiced." If there is 
 any meaning in what Scripture says of God's special re- 
 gard for those who trust in him, let mockers beware 
 how they choose them, in their rehgious character, as 
 objects of indignity. 
 
 * Ps. bdx. 12. 
 
THE SCORNER. 3^55 
 
 Ministers of the Gospel, though in a sense public 
 representatives of Christ's cause, are individually as 
 open to criticism as any persons on earth. Not only 
 are they compassed about with human infirmity, they 
 are made by their very post pecuharly conspicuous. It 
 is not wonderful that they have sustained showers of 
 scorning. Especially if they have upheld the majesty 
 of law, if they have denounced vice, if they have ran 
 counter to the fashionable, licentious, apostate Chris- 
 tianity of the day, if they have preached the sovereignty 
 of God and the gratuity of salvation, they have had 
 obloquy and contempt for their lot. Many a shaft is 
 aimed at the heart of rehgion, through the person of 
 the ministry ; for he who would be afraid to reproach 
 Christ, may attain the same end by satirizing his ser- 
 vants. Let the ambassadors of God lift up their voice 
 against any prominent abuse, and straightway the jour- 
 nals, which reflect the baser interests and grudges of 
 society, will beset their path with greetings like those 
 which David received from Shimei, the son of Gera, 
 who " came forth, and cursed still as he came, and cast 
 stones at David." 2 Sam. xvi. 5. And if the preachers 
 of the Word were more fully to discharge their func- 
 tion in declaring that gospel which is foolishness to the 
 unenlightened and a stumbling-block to the proud, 
 they would be yet more " filled with the scorning 6t 
 those that are at ease, and with the contempt of the 
 proud." Ps. cxxiii. 4. 
 
 Upon further inquiry, we shall find, however, that 
 
]^56 THE SCORNER. 
 
 all this opposition to the persons of Christians, has a 
 deeper origin, in hostihty to the spirit, principles, and 
 life of rehgion. The pride, the scorn, the contemptuous 
 laughter, the malignant sneer, which are a sort of per- 
 secution, directed against those who uphold Christ's 
 cause, are immediate products of depravity, and of the 
 carnal mind, which is enmity against God. The an- 
 tagonism is one of ages ; nay, it is one pointed out by 
 prophecy : " I wiU put enmity between thee and the 
 woman, and between thy seed and her seed." Cain and 
 Abel are types of the scoffing world, and the suffering 
 church. The first-bom man " was of that wicked one, 
 and slew his brother. And wherefore slew he him? 
 Because his own works were evil, and his brother's 
 righteous." To which the loving Apostle adds the 
 caution : " Marvel not, my brethren, if the world hate 
 you." 1 John iii. 12, 13. A similar allusion to a typical 
 pair of brothers, is indicated by Paul, when he says of 
 Ishmael and Isaac : " But as then, he that was bom 
 after the flesh persecuted him that was born after the 
 Spirit, even so it is now." Gal. iv. 29. The mutual 
 repugnance is radical, being between contraries infinite- 
 ly remote, that is, hohness and sin. The modes of ex- 
 hibiting this proud hostility are various. One of the 
 most frequent, and that which we are now concerned 
 with, is the arrogant derision of what is good, as evinced 
 by manner, gesture, language, act, or the silence of bit- 
 ter contempt. 
 
 The great standard of right is God's perfect Law, in 
 
THE SCOKNER. 
 
 157 
 
 which all moral excellence is summed up, as light is 
 gathered in the sun. Holy minds admire and love the 
 law, feeling themselves sweetly and unconstrainedly in 
 imion with it. Unholy minds are conscious of a secret 
 opposition between their natural tastes and the intense 
 spirituaUty of the divine law. Restraining grace, reli- 
 gious training, and the common or special influences of 
 the Holy Spirit, keep this enmity in a certain abey- 
 ance, in those cases where sin has not pushed its victim 
 towards the brink of positive impiety. But this brink 
 is often fallen over, or at least looked over, by the 
 thoughtless, the impure, and the abandoned. A large 
 part of the world's sceptical and caviUing attack on the 
 code of Christian morals arises from personal immoral- 
 ity. Proud selfishness kicks against the goads. What 
 though the enemy wears a comic mask ? his sardonic 
 laugh is that of hate. The strict requisitions of the 
 holy commandment are so distasteful to the self-pleas- 
 ing offender, conscious of a crookedness which this 
 plummet reveals, that he tries to laugh off the restless 
 sentiment of obligation ; and, but partially succeeding 
 in himself, he makes the attempt with others. Ridicide 
 of God's commandments, or of the just fears, scruples 
 and tender doubts of our neighbour, is a sign that the 
 soul harbours inward hatred of the law. " It was a 
 severe retort which a young man lately made to an in- 
 fidel, who was speaking against the divine legation of 
 Moses. He had made many objections to the charac- 
 ter of that holy man ; and the young Christian said to 
 
158 THE SCORNER. 
 
 Mm : ' There is something in the history of Moses that 
 will warrant your opposition to him more than any 
 thing you have yet said.' What could this be ? 'He 
 wrote the Ten Commandments/ " * Read parallel proofs 
 of the immoral soil out of which scoffing grows, in the 
 unholy Hues of Voltaire, Rousseau, and Paine. 
 
 This uneasiness of conscience, in regard to precept 
 and prohibition, when it concurs with self-conceit, 
 haughtiness, and a low talent for impudent reply, con- 
 stitutes the genuine scoffer of Solomon's photograph. 
 You see his demeanour under criticism, advice, repri- 
 mand, and expostulation. Pride causes him to take his 
 friend for an enemy ; he is regardless of the truth ut- 
 tered ; inimical to the parent, the minister, the brother, 
 the elder associate, the wife of his bosom ; if any one 
 of these dares to touch his sore, he resents the sup- 
 posed affront with words of bitter ridicule. Behold thy 
 likeness, O, misguided sinner ! "A scorner heareth not 
 rebuke." " A scorner loveth not one who reproveth 
 him." "Reprove not a scorner, lest he hate thee." 
 "He that reproveth a scorner, getteth to himself 
 shame." f In all these, and in other places cited, the 
 same Hebrew word is used. It involves the notions 
 of vanity, mocking, treating with mimicry and illusory 
 speeches, satire, sneer, sarcasm, irony, and reckless disre- 
 gard. The counterpart of this picture is in many a 
 household, as many a disappointed father, many a heart- 
 
 * Life of Dr. Waugh. + Prov. xiii. 1, ix. 7, 8. 
 
 8 
 
THE SCORJ^R. . ]^59 
 
 sick mother knows full well. Up to a certain age, 
 children, unless precociously vile, yield themselves in 
 docile compliance to the parental voice. But, alas ! ex- 
 cept where Grace has early wrought, there comes a dis- 
 agreeable crisis, of greater or less duration. Family 
 training arrives at the stage first of shyness, then of for- 
 wardness, sometimes of bitterness. The foohsh boy, 
 governed more by companions of the school or the 
 street, than by his wisest, dearest protectors, sets up to 
 be wiser than his father. The frivolous, vain, selfish 
 girl, corrupted by the daughters of the ungodly, from 
 whom she takes her tone at some fashionable but hea- 
 thenish school, turns upon the mother who bare her, 
 and tosses the head, with imaginary knowledge of the 
 world, and disgust at old-time maxims of modesty. 
 
 It were well if intolerance of rebuke were confined 
 to childhood and youth ; but we encounter it in every 
 stage of life. Though one of the sincerest acts of true 
 friendship is the bringing into the right way of one 
 who has strayed, it is nevertheless true that, in things 
 moral and reHgious, scarcely any one rehshes attempts 
 to lead him back from wandering, or to prevent his fly- 
 ing from the track. Tell your neighbour that his house 
 is too gaudily furnished, that his children are sadly per- 
 verse, or that he himself drinks too much wine, and is 
 drowsy and muddled after dinner, and you run the risk 
 of losing an acquaintance for your pains. If to this 
 you should add serious admonition respecting his eter- 
 nal state, and the need of preparation for death, you 
 
IQQ . THE SCORNER. 
 
 would be likely to have in return severe jesting, if not 
 scoffs. 
 
 "Fools make a mock at sin/' The enemy of souls 
 continually allures them towards the persuasion, that it 
 is a small evil. Who can believe that yonder timid 
 youth, flushing with the colours of Virtue, will one day 
 laugh to scorn the reprovers of his profaneness or his 
 dissipation ? Yet we see such changes every day. 
 Society is always suffering from perverse banter and 
 coarse humour, directed against rigid morals. The 
 thefts, defalcations, peculations, forgeries, fraudulent es- 
 capes from obligation, full hving on other men's money, 
 and filthy purchase of votes and verdicts, which are 
 at once the opprobrium and the rottenness of certain 
 classes in modern society, are fostered and brought into 
 development by what young men hear in the houses 
 where their business hes ; by jokes, which imply that a 
 clever operation is worth some moral risk ; by pleas- 
 antries about lying and stealing, under decent names ; 
 and by contemptuous pity of the tortoise-like habits of 
 a former age. Let us in justice observe, that we have, 
 in the highest places in the world of trade, men whose 
 names are unsullied, and whose voice authorized by 
 experience, would, if permitted, chastise the sharper 
 and the villain, under whatever garb of mocking and 
 persiflage he might lurk. Such animadversion is use- 
 ful to those who look on ; as indeed is the detection of 
 every arrogant pretender. " Smite a scomer, and the 
 simple will beware; and reprove one that hath un- 
 
THE SCORNER. 
 
 161 
 
 derstanding, and he will understand knowledge.'' And 
 again, "When the scomer is punished, the simple 
 is made wise." The pubhc award is generally right 
 and final, in respect to one who has distinguished him- 
 self by sneer, sarcasm, and arrogance ; for, as Solomon 
 says, " the scorner is an abomination to men." Prov. 
 xxiv. 9. 
 
 It is not easy to stop upon the downward slide of 
 sin ; and hence he who begins with trifling and badi- 
 nage, upon subjects of duty and grace, wiU descend, un- 
 less divinely stayed, to the degree of undervaluing his 
 own danger, and making Hght of God's threatenings. 
 This is the foolhardiness of transgression. There is a 
 sublime, silent delay about the Divine Justice, which 
 leaves rash sinners under the delusion, that, against a 
 Lawgiver so longsuffering, they may offend with impu- 
 nity. If every Cain were marked the very instant he 
 shed blood, and every Ananias struck dead upon the 
 utterance of his He, scoffing at judgments would be im- 
 possible. But the awful tread of justice is slow, and so 
 the depraved soul grows bold. " Because sentence against 
 an evil work is not executed speedily, therefore the 
 heart of the sons of men is fully set in them to do evil." 
 Conscience sleeps, and therefore the sinner thinks the 
 sin is not on record. " He hath said in his heart, God 
 hath forgotten : he hideth his face : he wiU never see 
 it." Ps. X. 11. In Ezekiel's time, the idolaters who 
 polluted the very temple-chambers by secret imagery, 
 
 said, " The Lord seeth us not ; the Lord hath forsaken 
 11 
 
IQ2 '^^^ SCORNEK. 
 
 the earth." The same folly and wickedness bear like 
 fruits in later days ; and when these depraved tempers 
 find vent in words, and corresponding demeanour, we 
 have the Scomer named in divine threatenings 
 • Unbelief and unholy daring may attain such a 
 height, as madly to try their strength not only with 
 menaced, but with actual wrath; and creatures have 
 been found, who, amidst the falling bolts of judgment, 
 have stood out against the Creator and Judge in arms. 
 A cheat, of course, is, in such cases, put upon oneself, 
 as if there were a chance of escape after all ; or, as if 
 these inflictions were not judgments for sin ; or, which 
 is more common, as if infinite mercy would at length 
 remit. When scornful offenders laugh at war, famine, 
 pestilence, and other tokens of divine displeasure against 
 sin, whether national or mdividual, denying all provi- 
 dence in such events, and baring the head to receive 
 any storm from such quarter, they only re-enact the 
 part of ancient unbelievers, who cried, " The evil shall 
 not overtake nor prevent us." Amos ix. 10. 
 
 But on whatsoever side we turn, we find exposures 
 of the fundamental evil, on which aU these contempts re- 
 pose, as all later formations on the primitive base. It is 
 depravity of mind and heart in regard to Almighty God ; 
 disbehef of his being ; derogation from his attributes ; 
 forgetfulness of Ms presence ; disregard of his infinite 
 purity; hardihood towards his awful justice; in a 
 word, it is practical atheism which makes the scomer. 
 " Wherefore doth the wicked contemn God ? he hath 
 
THE SCORNER. ^Q^ 
 
 said in his heart, Thou wilt not require it." Ps. x. 13. 
 Every form of sin involves something of the horrid evils 
 just named ; for who could sin under the thorough and 
 constant influence of right views and feelings towards 
 the Divine Majesty ? " Thou God seest me," so far as 
 it sinks into the heart, is a preservative against trans- 
 gression. But sin begets sin ; yea, one sin begets 
 numberless sins, and one violation of law and con- 
 science, leads to other violations, and these to more, till 
 the fearful progression ends in open profligacy, insult to 
 the Eternal King, and speedy destruction. No one knows, 
 when initiated into some lower degree of Satan's lodge, 
 whether he may not penetrate to the highest. This 
 makes it dangerous to parley with temptation. Judi- 
 cial blindness befalls those who voluntarily put out the 
 light of education and conscience. One sin, in God's 
 awful judgment, becomes the punishment of another. 
 The crime which the youthful sinner now looks at with 
 shuddering, as it stands before him in his path, he may 
 one day see behind him, among the dim, cloudy begin- 
 nings of his career, the earhest steps of his enormous 
 transgression. It is a greater evil to scoff" at the reli- 
 gion of others, than to be simply irreligious ourselves. 
 Many ties must be rent, many walls overleaped, and 
 many guards cut down, before the race of evil at- 
 tains to open derision of truth and duty. Oppo- 
 sition to God's spiritual agency, and ascription of 
 Christ's words to the Evil One, accompanied with de- 
 liberate utterance of the same, in scoffing language. 
 
164 '^^^ SCOENER. 
 
 constituted that blasphemy against the Holy Ghost, 
 which hath no forgiveness, either in this world or that 
 which is to come. And he who treads under foot the 
 Son of God, and counts his blood unholy, " hath done " 
 so it is written, " despite unto the Spirit of grace." 
 Heb. X. 29. Those, therefore, who are tempted to 
 make merry with divine realities, with the Word of 
 Salvation, with the work of the Holy Ghost in the re- 
 vival of churches and the conversion of sinners ; espe- 
 cially those who, from levity, folly, inconsideration, def- 
 erence to bad example, or temporary gusts of pride 
 and passion, indulge themselves in ridiculing such as 
 begin to seek the salvation of the soul, should beware 
 in time, lest, abandoned to themselves, they make ship- 
 wreck of all principle, and find their lot among hopeless 
 scofiers. " Judgments are prepared for scomers, and 
 stripes for the back of fools." Having thus tempted 
 Satan, they may be led by him into an incapacity of be- 
 lieving ; having sneered at all that is pure, august and 
 heavenly, they may, amidst the ruins of their faith, be 
 haunted by spectres of multiform doubt ; having chal- 
 lenged God to forsake them, they may spend their de- 
 cline in ever learning, yet never coming to the knowledge 
 of the truth ; for, " a scorner seeketh wisdom, and find- 
 eth it not." And these are cautions peculiarly needful 
 at times when the Spirit of God manifests his agency 
 in the churches, humbhng and melting believers, and 
 convincing the impenitent ; and when, likewise, Satan, 
 in his prime character, as adversary and arch-scomer, is 
 
THE SCORNER 265 
 
 busy, breatliing into his cliildreii, at the corners of the 
 streets, in the haunts of vice, and alas, in the editorial 
 chair, foul blasphemies, which may tiUTi away men from 
 the great salvation. We have no fear for the church of 
 the Hving God, from the mocking laughter of surround- 
 ing foes ; though " they return at evening," " make a 
 noise like a dog, and go round about the city." Ps. lix. 
 The people of God will still rejoice in his power, which 
 shall lead them on to triumph. But, for the scoffers 
 themselves, we tremble ; and are ready to address them 
 in the words of Paul at Antioch : " Behold, ye despi- 
 sers, and wonder and perish ; for I work a work in 
 your days, a work which ye shall in no wise believe, 
 though a man declare it unto you." Acts xiii. 41. It 
 is a dreadful fall, from haughty scorning of God's ways, 
 down to grovelling vice and drivelling falsehood : such 
 contrasts have we seen. The freethinker and the here- 
 tic, after deriding the mysteries of Scripture and the in- 
 spiration of prophets, have sat down to prate of endless, 
 unintelligible dreams, and to sit at the feet of spiritual 
 mediums, so named in their jargon. Safer, my breth- 
 ren in the Lord, is it to trust in Him, " that frustrateth 
 the tokens of the liars, and maketh diviners mad ; who 
 tumeth wise men backward, and maketh their know- 
 ledge foolish." Isaiah xhv. 25. O pray to God, beloved 
 hearer, that he would keep your conscience tender, and 
 your mind reverent, lest from one degree of profane 
 scorning you proceed to another, and at length reach 
 the point of those who crucify the Son of God afresh, 
 
\QQ THE SCORNER. 
 
 and put him to an open shame. At present, you think 
 this acme of impiety far from you, and so I trust it still 
 is. But consider, I pray you, who it is that holds you 
 back from such enormities, and shrink from every form, 
 or sentiment, or speech, which could grieve that Spirit of 
 grace. " Quench not the Spirit," in yourselves or in 
 others. And that you may make all sure, turn your 
 back upon the world, the flesh, and the devil, and, go- 
 ing to the Lord Jesus, take him as your Saviour, 
 Teacher, and King. 
 
VII. 
 
 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 
 
SALVATION TKACED TO GOD THE 
 FATHEK.* 
 
 John iii. 16. 
 
 " For God so loved the world, that he gave his only-hegotten Son, 
 that whosever believeth in him should not perish, but have ever- 
 lasting life." 
 
 What verse of Scripture is more deeply engraved 
 on our memory ? Wliere is a passage to be found 
 whicli has been more frequently uttered in Christian 
 assemblies ? Is there one which more ftdly comprises 
 the essence of the Gospel plan ? Or could we- choose a 
 divine saying of our Lord better suited to guide and 
 elevate our thoughts ? 
 
 Here is Jesus speaking of himself, and declaring 
 why he came from heaven to earth. Here is the pro- 
 vision of mercy traced up to its eternal fountain, in the 
 
 * New York, May 16, 1852. 
 
170 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 
 
 infinite benevolence of the Most High. Here is the 
 river of compassion widening towards all nations. Here 
 is the door of escape set wide open, from hell to heaven. 
 And here is the direction how any willing soul may 
 gain entrance to that way. My brethren, it is matter 
 which iaterests us all ; for we are all unholy and sub- 
 ject to condemnation ; we are all in jeopardy ; we are 
 all hastening to death, yet naturally desirous of ever- 
 lasting happiness. And in these words we have a 
 Saviour offered to all. The subject is God's love, and 
 the method by which this love may become our per- 
 sonal salvation. If God should vouchsafe to carry the 
 truth home to your heart this day, he would thus make 
 it a temple of the Holy Ghost. And I affirm without 
 hesitation, that the words of my text, if received in their 
 spiritual meaniag and with firm persuasion, are able to 
 make you wise unto salvation through faith that is in 
 Christ Jesus. 
 
 Does God the Father really love the world of sin- 
 ners ? and what is the character of this love ? These are 
 the questions which we have to answer. We may vague- 
 ly assent to the existence of such love without deeply en- 
 tering into its grandeur. Accompany me, while we 
 consider, first, the reaUty of this love, and secondly, its 
 degree. Both are exhibited by meanfe of a great and 
 marvellous gift. 
 
 I. The REALITY OF THE FaTHEr's LOVE TO THE 
 WORLD IS SHOWN BY HIS GIVING HIS SON. The WOrds 
 
SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. ^^J 
 
 apon which we have come to meditate set forth this 
 great and overwhelming argument for the love of God : 
 He gave his Son. SmaU words sometimes contain vast 
 meaning. In the solemn act of worship called an oath, 
 and in the form of it so often uttered and heard with 
 lightness and irreverence, So help you God, the im- 
 mense weight of the imprecation hes in the shortest 
 monosyllable so ; that is, may Almighty God so help 
 you, or the reverse, as you now declare the truth. In 
 like manner the text revolves on the same brief adverb, 
 as the principal hinge of its significancy. By what 
 proof or evidence are we convinced that God loved the 
 world ? And how great was this love ? The answer 
 is, God so loved the world that he gave his only-begot- 
 ten Son. This is the demonstration of the love in its 
 reality, and the measure of the love in its greatness. 
 And if God so loved the world as to make a sacrifice 
 of infinite value, the love is such that it passeth knowl- 
 edge. 
 
 The heathen had no such being in their crude my- 
 thology as a God of pure love. When the philosophers 
 revolted against the incredible and corrupting fables of 
 tradition and poetry, they formed various conceptions 
 of a Supreme Intelligence ; but the best of them fell 
 infinitely short of the idea which a young child in 
 Christian households acquires of a Being, infinite, eter- 
 nal and unchangeable in wisdom, power, justice, truth, 
 and goodness. As soon as we think of One who has 
 all perfections, we think of One who is benevolent. 
 
172 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 
 
 and if we add the conception of this Supreme Existence 
 as coming forth from the sohtude of his eternal majesty 
 to create inteUigent spirits, we immediately, as by a 
 necessity of reason, conclude that he loves the creatures 
 whom he has made. If we could stop here, all would 
 be free from difficulty. 
 
 If we could truly regard the Most High as not only 
 benevolent, but nothing besides ; as loving every object, 
 whether good or evil ; as possessing no moral discrimi- 
 nation, as acting only and forever towards the happiness 
 of all he has made ; we should look with confidence 
 toward the awful future of eternity, as assured that, 
 whether pure or sinful, we should be made blessed for- 
 ever. And some take this view ; thus founding on a 
 partial idea of divine excellence the destructive scheme 
 of universal salvation. But on this hypothesis we can 
 never explain the enigma of the universe. If God 
 were all love, and in such a sense as to be nothing but 
 love ; if God had no end in creation but to make his 
 creatures happy, there would of course be no unhappi- 
 ness in the world. The proof that such a view is false, 
 stares us in the face on which side soever we turn our 
 eyes. Tor is the existing earth, to go no farther, fuU 
 of unmingled bliss ? Answer ye, who pass lifetimes of 
 sorrow ; ye millions of sufferers by disease, war, and a 
 thousand deaths. The fact, as we see it and feel it, 
 disproves the assumption that God has no other prin- 
 ciple of government than that of promoting universal 
 happiness. Unless, indeed, we deny his sovereignty. 
 
SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. l<j^ 
 
 diminish his perfection, ascribe the present state to 
 some rival divinity, and thus upturn the very basis of 
 all rehgion, natural and revealed. If God's sole object 
 in creation had been to secure the absence of all unhap- 
 piness, no sound mind will deny that he had power to 
 effect it. If, as the fact shows, the case is tremendously 
 the reverse, we have no escape from the conclusion, that 
 along with the disposition to make his creatures hap- 
 py, there were other divine attributes which allowed 
 the possibihty of pain. We must afiirm this, or else 
 refuse God's permission to the present state, or deny 
 the perfections or very being of a God. As we shrink 
 from these dreadful tenets of chance and atheism, we 
 are forced to bow down and acknowledge that our 
 plummet cannot sound the depths of the divine immen- 
 sity. We must own, with adoring fear, that the Infinite 
 One has reasons of awful state why even misery should 
 be allowed to enter his dominions. And we justly look 
 for these reasons in those other attributes of Jehovah, 
 which are revealed no less clearly than his goodness. 
 
 God is infinitely holy. He is so by the eternal 
 necessity of his nature. He cannot deny himself. He 
 is and must be forever opposed to aU sin. It is his 
 very nature, it is of the essence of his Godhead, to stand 
 in eternal opposition to moral evil. All moral good is 
 such simply because it conforms, we need not say to 
 a divine command, but to the divine nature, as its 
 standard. AU moral evil is such, because it deviates 
 from this eternal standard. But the two are necessarily 
 
174 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE TATHER. 
 
 and everlastingly opposed to one another. The will of 
 God, which is our Law, is only the effluence of this 
 eternal nature ; and hence, creatures remaining the 
 same, we cannot conceive of the law as otherwise than 
 it is, or of a law demanding the opposite of what it now 
 demands, or as demanding less than it now demands ; 
 in other words, less than perfection. This tendency of 
 God's nature to demand conformity in moral creatures, 
 belongs to his essential glory, and we call it his Justice. 
 It is not for us to ask why He created man ; or why 
 he created him a free agent, or what is the same thing, 
 capable of sinning. He has done so ; and shall not the 
 Judge of all the earth do right ? We might deem it 
 wiser and holier to make a world in which no sin and 
 no pain could ever exist ; but that such a purpose was 
 not necessarily demanded by God's holiness, we learn 
 assuredly from the fact that God actually designed the 
 world which we see. There may be reasons, nay there 
 must be reasons, all unknown to us, why the greatest 
 glory of God is, after all, most promoted by the very 
 irregularities which we deplore. 
 
 Still it abides true, that our Lord is a God of love. 
 No one attribute conflicts with any other. When free 
 creatures, and creatures are not moral beings unless 
 free, in the exercise of their freedom sin and fall, 
 the consequence is misery. Let us not quarrel with 
 this arrangement. The connexion of sin and misery 
 may, for all we know, be as necessary as the connexion 
 between the absence of light and the presence of dark- 
 
SALTATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. ^75 
 
 ness. Many things in our own experience, lead us to 
 believe this to be so. We are never happy when we 
 sin. Suppose a law given, the misery consequent on 
 violating this law fixed as a penalty ; the Word of God 
 uttered to declare this connexion ; and we at once be- 
 hold God's Justice and his Truth committed on the side 
 of Hohness, and against the sinner. Thus far we gain 
 no rehef by clinging to the assertion that God is good. 
 It is true, eternally true. But how do we know that 
 even Benevolence, on a large scale, may not be glori- 
 fied by the punishment of obstinate offenders, when, 
 even in civil society, cases occur in which the destruc- 
 tion of one life promotes the salvation of many ? But 
 these are mysteries which we are not called upon to 
 resolve. Secret things belong unto God. The Justice 
 and Truth of God are as clearly revealed as his good- 
 ness and mercy. They must not be thrown into oppo- 
 sition, but must forever co-exist. And the great all- 
 important deduction which we should make, for the 
 guidance of our thoughts, is, that if Mercy be ever dis- 
 played, it will be in such a way as shall hold up Justice 
 and Holiness with undiminished and equal splendour. 
 This is, indeed, the key to the whole Gospel, which is 
 none other than a device of Infinite Wisdom to repair 
 the evils of the fall, and thus show forth all the com- 
 mingling perfections of God in magnificent and adora- 
 ble harmony. AH hues blend with consummate beauty 
 in the rainbow around the throne. To effect this har- 
 mony was the intention of the most extraordinary 
 
276 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE -FATHER. 
 
 transaction in the earth's history, namely, that He who 
 made it died upon it. The difficulty must have been 
 great which made so extreme a method necessary. No 
 physical difficulty can be imagined in regard to God, 
 for he is Omnipotent. By an act of sovereign will he 
 could translate all souls from heaven to hell, or from 
 hell to heaven. The obstacle to such a transaction can 
 be none but a moral one. There is a sort of impropriety 
 in asserting any such thing as difficulty, where God is 
 concerned ; but human language can do no better. It 
 is only a way of saying, that to do this or that would 
 be for God to deny himself. 
 
 Even in our own circle of experience, different prin- 
 ciples within us may thus come into seeming conflict. 
 The Judge may have to pass sentence on one whom he 
 pities; here justice has to settle it with compassion. 
 The parent is often called to punish the child whom he 
 loves. It is easy for us to say that God might freely 
 pardon any sinner, or all sinners, without any interven- 
 tion or propitiation. I prefer at this time to rest on 
 the reply — and it admits of no contradiction — ^that God 
 has done otherwise, and has so proved that there was 
 no other way. One thing, indeed, the Supreme Law- 
 giver and Judge might have done. He might have 
 suffered the sentence to become absolute ; have shut 
 the door of pardon ; and have turned away from the 
 world of sinners, and left them to whirl away into the 
 infinite spaces of increasing sin and misery. No man 
 can say this would have been unjust, unless he is pre- 
 
SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. ^-jry 
 
 pared to say that the law was unjust ; for this was the 
 demand of law. Especially might the offended Sove- 
 reign have so done, when the mode of doing otherwise 
 involved the most stupendous sacrifice. And why not? 
 Why did Divine Wisdom and Holiness pause, and sus- 
 pend the lifted sword of vengeance ? Why did heavenly 
 condescension look upon ruined men ? Oh, my breth- 
 ren, it was because Love, boundless Love, stayed the 
 hand of Justice, held the bolt of fiery retribution, and 
 interposed itself between the descending edge and our 
 condemned souls. If God were all Justice, and he is 
 as truly just as loving, no redemption had been possible. 
 If God had been all Love, and he is as truly loving as 
 he is just, no redemption had been necessary. But be- 
 cause He is both Justice and Mercy, and because Jus- 
 tice demanded satisfaction, and Mercy pleaded for re- 
 mission, " Righteousness and Peace kissed each other ;" 
 and Love hung on the arm of paternal severity, while 
 Wisdom pointed out a method to reconcile both. 
 
 To our poor Hmited faculties, this has to be repre- 
 sented under figure of a conflict of attributes ; but, in 
 reality, there is no conflict in God. To our apprehen- 
 sion, there seems a series of counsels and a change of 
 plan ; but there is neither succession nor mutation in 
 God. Still the highest philosophy commands us to 
 abide by the childlike expressions of the Bible. We 
 shall never comprehend this mystery better than when, 
 as in our early days, we regard God as angry against 
 sin, yet desiring not the death of the sinner. This love 
 
 12 
 
178 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 
 
 for sinners must have been unutterably great, or there 
 had been no such event as the Crucifixion. 
 
 And let me with more than ordinary earnestness 
 implore you not to misapprehend this love, by an error 
 which is common among shallow theologians. I intend 
 those, who think of God the Father as less loving than • 
 the Son ; as more rigorously just than the Son ; as in 
 some sort a relentless and implacable sovereign; as 
 originating no tender mercies, and thirsting for the 
 blood of vengeance, till appeased by the Son. Into 
 such extremes some may be led by the inadequacy of 
 all earthly words and figures to represent heavenly 
 realities. No, beloved brethren, the God of our text, 
 who gives his Son, is God the Father. He is as 
 clearly the God of Love. There is no conflict be- 
 tween the Father and the Son ; and there is a divine 
 harmony in their acts ; for whatsoever things the 
 Father doth, those doth the Son likewise. The adora- 
 ble Son of God is co-equal in infinite justice and hatred 
 of sin. The adorable Father is boundless in love and 
 compassion. From him came the whole scheme of 
 salvation. " For God so loved the world, that he gave 
 his only-begotten Son, that whosoever believeth in him 
 should not perish, but have everlasting life." Thus far 
 have we dwelt mainly on the reaUty of this love. True, 
 this it was impossible to do, without frequent glimpses of 
 its degree ; but now more particularly let us bring this 
 into review, by meditating with you on the extent of this 
 divine love, as manifested in its grand testimonial. 
 
SALTATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. ir^g 
 
 II. The GREATNESS OF THE PaTHEr's LOVE TO THE 
 WORLD IS SHOWN BY HIS GIVING THE SoN. Not that 
 
 you or I, or angels above us, can take the gauge and 
 dimensions of this divinity of goodness. With us they 
 look into the chasm, with folded wings, and murmur. 
 Oh, the depth, the depth ! Yet, again, they learn 
 enough to burst forth into chorus, while the shining 
 retinue, reaching from earth to heaven, breaks forth in 
 the doxology, " Glory to God in the highest, and peace 
 on earth, good- will to men ! " Love is measured by its 
 gifts and sacrifices. Greater love hath no man than 
 this, that a man lay down his hfe for his friend. God's 
 love is measured by the gift and sacrifice of his Son. 
 But while we repeat and adopt the words, who will 
 assume to comprehend them ! God gave his Son, but 
 who can take the measurement of the gift ? for who cai\ 
 ascend to the height of his glory, or descend to the 
 depth of his humiliation ? Who hath entered into the 
 dread chamber and pavilion of that eternity before all 
 worlds, in which the Only-Begotten, who is in the 
 bosom of the Pather, dwelt in the plenitude of the 
 triune bliss, the Word, which was with God, which 
 was God ? Lose yourself as you may in the delightful 
 contemplation of this wonderful glory, you are still baf- 
 fled in every essay to gaze more nearly into the empy- 
 rean majesty, or seize the dazzling lines of that transac- 
 tion, when it was decreed in council that God should 
 become man. Yet mth reverent intentness of adoring 
 thought, we may, through a veihng cloud, discern so 
 
180 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 
 
 much as the Spirit has seen fit to intimate. No man 
 knoweth the Son but the Father, and he to whom the 
 Father shall reveal him. From the recesses of that 
 unapproachable glory, " dark with excessive light," pro- 
 ceeds a voice which syllables the sentence dear to every 
 penitent and thankful soul, " God so loved the world 
 that he gave his only-begotten Son." Here are tones 
 which cause the inmost chords of humanity to vibrate. 
 
 The word Son carries its peculiar touching charm 
 to any parental heart. An " only Son," is of all phrases 
 that which wakes affectionate yearning here about our 
 sinful hearths. Faint shadows are these of the things 
 in heaven. He who has chosen to be knovm as Father, 
 has chosen to reveal the eternal Word as Son, and as 
 " the Only-Begotten of the Father." Divine paternity 
 is inscrutable. Divine love is as far above human love, 
 as God is above the creature. Yet we were made in 
 his image, in order to know a little of his heart ; and 
 the sentiment, though vastly unequal, is the same in the 
 points intended to be believed. 
 
 God gave his Son. In intention and decree he 
 gave him. In covenant he gave him. Looking on man 
 as helplessly fallen, he gave him, as purposing him to 
 be man's Saviour. In the garden of Eden, now stained 
 with deadly sin, he gave him, and anticipated the words 
 of curse by words of blessing. Throughout the tedi- 
 ous tracts of the long Judaic night, when clouds and 
 transient rays struggled together, in a coloured haze of 
 types and vision, he gave him, the Messiah yet to come. 
 
SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. ^g]^ 
 
 But fully and actually and with transcendent love he 
 gave him, when the Word became flesh and dwelt among 
 us, full of grace and truth. And then, consummating 
 the boon of eternal destination, he gave hun, when, 
 amidst a quaking earth and a shrouded heaven, it 
 pleased the Lord to bruise him, when his sword awoke 
 against the Man that was his feUow ; and when Justice, 
 as a weapon of death, steeped itself in the heart of 
 humanity embraced by Godhead, and the Holy One, 
 at the acme of his dying pangs, cried. It is fin- 
 ished. 
 
 The thoughts need repose after such a contempla- 
 tion. Sit down, oh believer; sit down with the beloved 
 John, and with the Marys, amidst the effusion of the 
 water and the blood, and tell, if you can, the magnitude 
 of this affection. It is divine. " Herein is love, not 
 that we loved God, but that God loved us and gave his 
 
 Would you feel it more ? Look in that other direc- 
 tion, to the damned world. Measure the sin and sorrow 
 of a state which but for this sacrifice had been yours 
 and mine. That we should not perish but have eternal 
 Hfe, was the motive of this gift. Raise your eyes to that 
 " eternal life," and meditate the glory and the bliss, till 
 you somewhat forget the seductive pleasures of time. 
 All this is signified by the gift of God's only-begotten 
 Son. Once more turn inward and attempt an estimate 
 of your own demerit. " God commendeth his love to 
 us, iQ that, while we were yet sinners, Christ died for 
 
182 SALVATION TRACED TO GOt) THE FATHER. 
 
 US ! " What ! still unrelenting ! Are no gentle affec- 
 tions stirred within you, this day, by God's chief argu- 
 ment ? With what can we hope to move you ? Be- 
 hold here the hell you have deserved and sought ; the 
 heaven surpassing your most adventurous imagining ; 
 the Cross of Jesus, where the just God becomes the 
 Saviour. This is the great sight which has melted the 
 hearts of all generations of those who have been saved. 
 And I have yet to add, if I would not withhold the 
 principal theme of my commission, that God the 
 Father gives the Only-'Begotten Son this day in the 
 offer of the Gospel. To you is the word of this sal- 
 vation sent. The great atoning action was not to be 
 concealed, but to be published to all nations for the 
 obedience of faith. There is no restriction. To whom 
 do I hear you ask, is this offer tendered? To the 
 world, I answer ; to all who hear the " word of the 
 truth of the Gospel." To you who have come hither 
 this morning; to every one of you; from the hoary 
 despiser to the babe who only begins to comprehend 
 the words. By whom may it be accepted ? By sin- 
 ners. " This is a faithful saying, and worthy of all 
 acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to 
 save sinners." If the greatest offender of aU the sons 
 of men were to rise revealed as such in this assembly, 
 I am authorised to address him as included in this invi- 
 tation of abounding grace. This Gospel was preached 
 first at Jerusalem, and made known to those who cru- 
 cified the Lord of glory. " Therefore," cried Peter to 
 
SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 3^33 
 
 the Pentecostal multitude, " let all the house of Israel 
 (the very nation which had committed this sin of sins) 
 know assuredly, that God hath made this same* Jesus, 
 whom ye have crucified, both Lord and Christ." The 
 apostle's declaration, and all subsequent preaching, have 
 held forth the same Gospel, or good news of God's love 
 in giving his Only-Begotten Son, By this alone have 
 perishing souls, in aU ages of the dispensation of grace, 
 obtained eternal life ; and the profier is now to you. 
 To you, my hearer, however hardened in your sins and 
 however destitute of all right feehngs, this way of im- 
 mediate escape is held out. The fountain which burst 
 forth from the rock smitten at Golgotha continues to 
 follow the march of our desert pilgrimage; and the 
 terms are, as of old, " Whosoever will, let him take the 
 water of Hfe freely." 
 
 Before closing the service, I must lay before you, in 
 few words, one provision of my text. It concerns the 
 mode of becoming interested in this gracious gift of 
 God. The mode is by believing; "that whosoever 
 believeth in him should not perish," etc. Gospel faith 
 is the cordial behoving of this message. Some of you, 
 let me joyfidly think, have already believed, do now 
 beheve. Your language is, " This is my beloved, and 
 this is my friend. He found me fainting in the wilder- 
 ness. He lifted my head. He spake words of com- 
 fort to me. He strengthened me with strength in my 
 soul. And all this he did by pouring a flood of light 
 on his own person and work, by making this great ob- 
 
Ig4 SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 
 
 ject stand forth prominent and luminous, that is, by 
 working in me faith." 
 
 But there are others whose language is, " Nothing 
 is more mysterious to me than the saving character of 
 faith. I believe these truths ; and yet I find no rehef 
 for my burden." To such a one I must, in all respect 
 and love, speak a word of contradiction. No, my 
 anxious hearer, you do not believe the Gospel. Or, at 
 at any rate, since there are degrees in faith, you believe 
 but faintly. You have been looking too long and too 
 much at self, and too little at the Saviour. If you be- 
 lieved that God so loved the world, you would see 
 and know that even for you there is room in the bosom 
 of infinite Compassion. If you believed that Christ 
 Jesus came into the world to save sinners, and by speci- 
 fication, the chief of sinners, you would see salvation 
 brought home to your own heart. If you believed that 
 Grace is abounding, free, present, made over by gift to 
 just such as you, in all your hardness and all your 
 guilt, and that the very first saving act is that of acqui- 
 escence in this gratuity, you would gaze with wonder 
 and gratitude on the pierced hands and feet and the 
 opened side, and would exclaim with Thomas, My Lord 
 and My God ! If you believed, you would turn away 
 from the study of your wi-etched self, and being all 
 absorbed in another object, resplendent, soul-entrancing 
 and divine, would joyfuUy cry, " God forbid that I should 
 glory, save in this." And it is just because you still re- 
 fuse to let go your hold of something within you ; be- 
 
SALVATION TRACED TO GOD THE FATHER. 235 
 
 cause you doubt the capacity of Christ's love to embrace 
 you as you are ; in a word, because you do not beheve, 
 that you persist in perishing with a condemned world. 
 The difficulty does not He in any want of atoning 
 love or gracious provision. The sacrifice has been 
 made ; it is infinitely pleasing to God ; it is accepted ; 
 it can never be repeated ; it can never be added to ; it 
 stands before the universe in immutable, consummate 
 glory. Nor does the difficulty he in the nature of faith, 
 as though it were comphcated, mysterious, or unintelli- 
 gible ; it is one of the very simplest actings of the hu- 
 man soul. But it hes in this, that you do not apprehend 
 in a spiritual manner the precious, the ever-blessed 
 truth to be beheved. You see God under a false aspect, 
 as a hard, exacting Lawgiver and a relentless Judge. 
 You look on Christ as coming to you with some legal 
 conditions to be fulfilled in you, before He can be 
 yours. And justly conscious that such conditions are 
 wanting in you, you stay away from the fountain of hfe, 
 and will forever stay away, tOl the Hght of God dawns 
 on your erring mind. Now, my sorrowing friend and 
 hearer, now you have arrived at what is perhaps a critical 
 point in your history. Will you flee to Jesus Christ to- 
 day ? Will you perish, or will you believe ? Whatever 
 is your determination, note it when you go home ; " This 
 day I have chosen Christ," or " This day I have rejected 
 him." Eor it is noted in heaven. 
 
VIII. 
 
 DYING FOE FRIENDS 
 
DYING FOR FRIENDS* 
 
 John xv. 13, 14. 
 
 " Greater love hath no man than this, that a man lay down his life 
 for his friends. Ye are my friends, if ye do whatsoever I com- 
 mand yon." 
 
 Friendship is a sacred word, belonging as truly 
 to Christianity as to morals. It is such a relation of 
 man to man, that from mutual esteem, admiration and 
 attachment, rather than from regard to interest, each 
 contemplates the person of the other with complacency 
 and benevolence, each desires the welfare of the other, 
 and dehghts in his company ; and consequently each is 
 ready to fulfil the wishes of the other and to make sa- 
 crifices for his pleasure. It is a flowing of soul to soul. 
 It is — so says the Roman adage — to will and to refuse the 
 same things. Wretched is he, who cannot go to expe- 
 rience for his definition ; for " poor is the friendless 
 
 * New York, March 13, 1853. 
 
290 DYING FOR FRIENDS. 
 
 master of a world ! " We need not go to the Damon 
 and Pythias of Gentile story, or even to the touching 
 records of David and Jonathan in the Old Testament. 
 The Gospel assures us, that in the circle around our 
 Lord, there was one disciple whom Jesus loved, friend- 
 ship never rose to so sanctified an exaltation. We do 
 well, therefore, against certain perverse philosophers, to 
 include friendship among the Christian virtues, and to 
 practise it in the daily intercourse of life. Even in 
 common society, its triumphs are sometimes beautiful 
 and ennobling, but it is nowhere so pure and unearthly, 
 as where it subsists between souls which have been 
 touched by the Spirit of God. Then it is a fountain 
 which wells forth from the Cross of the heavenly Priend. 
 But we are this day to ascend a yet loftier eminence, 
 and to contemplate a friendship which exists between 
 Christ and the believer. The word seems to acquire a 
 new and heavenher acceptation, when we apply it to 
 Him who is above aU blessing and all praise. And 
 this we shall do, in meditating on the delightful words 
 of the text. 
 
 This relation then of friendship is sustained by the 
 Lord Jesus to his people. His whole hfe was a series 
 of blessed friendships. There are no pictures of at- 
 tachment like those of Bethany and the upper chamber. 
 The Twelve, the Seventy, the holy women who compa- 
 nied with him, the thousands of less distinguished dis- 
 ciples, all stood to him in the relation of friends. It 
 was not merely John, who reclined on his bosom, or 
 
DYING FOR FRIENDS. IQJ 
 
 James and Cephas who shared his more sacred re- 
 tirements, or Lazarus whom he loved, or Mary and 
 Martha who ministered to him ; but all who hearkened 
 to his words and sought his companionship. He was 
 so unlike us who preach his gospel in degenerate times, 
 that he associated visibly and at the banquets of the 
 Pharisaic great, with persons who had lost their charac- 
 ter, and was designated as the friend of publicans and 
 sinners. To every diversity of people he showed him- 
 self accessible ; as indeed he is, still the most accessible 
 being in the universe. The most abject offender against 
 purity felt reassured by his forgiving rebuke, and the 
 very leper cast out of human habitations, and the de- 
 moniac haunting tombs and charnel-houses, ventured to 
 accost him. How much more near, and delicate, and 
 solemn, and rapturous must have been the interviews 
 with his chief disciples, in those days on the mountain 
 and on the plain, when thousands swarmed forth from 
 city and village, and spreading themselves on the green 
 grass were fed by his wonder-working bounty, and his yet 
 more marvellous words ; those voyages on the little lake ; 
 those mighty gatherings on Sabbath evenings, when the 
 synagogue was out and the sun was going down, and they 
 came flocking, with wives and children, to the house 
 where he was guest, and spread their sick and dying on 
 the earth at his feet ; those evenings during the high 
 festivals, when, as we know, he did not tarry in the 
 great city, but pm^sued his quiet path among olives, 
 across the ravine of Kedron, and up the ascent of 
 
192 DYING FOR FRIENDS. 
 
 Olivet, to Bethany, and probably to the house of Laza- 
 rus ; those walks through the length and breadth of the 
 land, in which, accompanied by eager groups, he dis- 
 coursed of divine counsels and things of the kingdom. 
 In all these conjunctures we behold him the friend, in 
 every lofty and every tender acceptation of that pregnant 
 word. All who accepted him were his friends. He 
 admitted them to the title ; he treated them as such. 
 And now that, in his human nature, he is no more on 
 earth, he just as really sustains the same relation to all 
 who truly beheve on him and partake of his Spirit. It 
 is this sacred alliance which is brought prominently for- 
 ward in these discourses of the first Communion season. 
 The highest proof of friendship is, when friend, 
 as in this case, dies for friend. We do not pause for 
 proof of this proposition. Children understand it ; it 
 siaks into the deep conviction of the heart. Death is 
 so dread an evil, that all a man hath will he give for 
 his life. A man avlU give many things for his friend, 
 vast labours, vast possessions, yea, all things, before 
 he will give his own life. Sometimes we find one will- 
 ing to give the hazard, to run the chance, that is, to 
 risk life for a friend ; but absolutely and without re- 
 prieve to give the life, is a different matter. We do 
 not think so meanly of sanctified human nature as to 
 disbelieve it possible. Scripture does not allege that it 
 never happened ; Christ does not allege it. We beheve 
 there has been many a parent, who, on fit occasion, 
 would die for a child, many a wife for a husband, nay, 
 
DYING FOR FRIENDS. 293 
 
 many a loyal soldier for his prince. But what we affirm 
 is, that when this occurs, it is the indubitable testimo- 
 nial of the highest love. Other marks may deceive, 
 but this is infalhble. If a human friend had died for 
 us, we should cherish his memory with a sentiment 
 httle short of idolatry ; for we cling with passion and 
 reverence to one who has even jeoparded life for our 
 sakes. This, then, is the acknowledged principle, on 
 which the Lord Jesus founds that which he has to say 
 respecting the love he bears to his disciples. It is a 
 matter not for proof but meditation. 
 
 The amazing truth which we have to contemplate 
 is, that this conclusive proof of attachment Christ actu- 
 ally gave. The church is founded on the fact, that 
 Christ died for his friends ; he made them friends by 
 dying for them ; for they were once foes. " For when 
 we were yet without strength, in due time Christ died 
 for the ungodly. For scarcely for a righteous man (or 
 a man barely just and upright) wiU one die ; yet perad- 
 venture for a good man (a man attaching himself to us 
 by affectionate kindness) some would even dare to die ;" 
 unusual as is the spectacle, a rare and singular instance 
 might be found in the lapse of ages ; " but God com- 
 mendeth his love toward us, in that, while we were yet 
 sinners, Christ died for us ! " It is the great lesson of 
 scripture and sacrament. Has it become a weariness 
 to you ? Then your hearts have never been touched 
 by renewing grace ; you have never sickened at the evil 
 of sin, you have never rejoiced mth the transport of 
 13 
 
194 DYING FOR FRIENDS. 
 
 faith. There is a power in genuine experience, which 
 freshens the oldest doctrine to the heart of the behever, 
 and makes him come back to these truths as to breasts 
 of consolation, ever new with the sincere milk of the 
 word. For which cause, the sacrament that sets it 
 forth, so far from losing value and attraction by repeti- 
 tion, is sweetest to the old disciple and the pilgrim near 
 his journey's end. 
 
 The death of the Lord Jesus Christ for his people 
 is pronounced by divine authority to be the grand argu- 
 ment of his love ; and they feel it to be so. Hence 
 they love to celebrate it. He uttered these touching 
 words to the wondering and sorrowing group, just be- 
 fore the great event. His eyes saw what was hidden 
 from them. He was already, in purpose and dedica- 
 tion, a sacrifice. It was anticipated as a glory : " Father, 
 the hour is come ; glorify thy Son ! " Already, as the 
 Lamb of God, was he bound with cords and palpitating 
 upon the altar ; already his soul was troubled, preparing 
 for " the strong crying and tears" of the awful night. 
 He had a baptism to be baptized with, and was strait- 
 ened till it should be accomplished. The cup which his 
 Father was giving him was already in his hands. 
 When he spoke of dying for his friends, he had a per- 
 fect foresight of the scenes which were to mark the next 
 few eventful hours. It was not the simple article of 
 death, the bare separation of soul and body which he 
 contemplated. He saw the mysterious shadow of 
 Gethsemane, the agony and bloody sweat. He saw the 
 
DYING FOR FRIENDS. I95 
 
 midnight assault, the arrest, the hurrying by torchlight 
 from tribunal to tribunal, the cords, the scourging, the 
 robes of scorn, the insults of the populace, the languor, 
 the exposure, the ignominy, the blasphemy, the crown of 
 thorns. He saw the accursed tree, the nails, the spear, 
 the desertion, the blood and anguish, the complicated 
 dying. He saw this to be a substitution, a suffering 
 for others, for friends, for those who should forsake and 
 deny him, for millions who were as yet his enemies. 
 A'nd seeing all this, he said, with an emphasis which 
 we can now better understand, " Greater love hath 
 no man than this, that a man lay down his life for his 
 friends." 
 
 Let our powers task themselves to devise a testimo- 
 nial of love which shall be equivalent to this. Reason 
 and imagination are at once baffled. And yet we do 
 not begin to apprehend the magnitude of the Divine 
 affection, until we take into view the nature of Him 
 who evinces it. Man, simple man, might testify great 
 love, aird testify it by voluntary death, by death un- 
 merited, by death surrounded with every aggravation 
 of torment and shame, by death for the unworthy. 
 This would be affecting and sublime, yet only finite and 
 comprehensible. But, as we love to sing, and to sing 
 without emendation : " God the mighty Maker dies, for 
 man the creature's sin!" The person who sustains 
 this suffering is a Divine Person. It is the infinite 
 Jehovah descending to take the place of the rebel, and 
 to subject himself to penal humiliation and agony. 
 
295 DYING FOR FRIENDS. 
 
 This is the great fact of Christianity, the capital 
 demonstration of the Godhead. Here we behold more 
 of the heart of God than in aU his works and Word be- 
 side. Into these things the angels desire to look ; and 
 the cherubic emblems hover and stoop over the ark, 
 bending to inspect the mystery of the law covered by 
 the golden propitiatory and the mercy-seat sprinkled 
 with divine blood. For this there had been a prepara- 
 tion in all the foregoing economy of the Old Testament, 
 from the sacrifice of Abel to the Passover they had just 
 been celebrating. AU altars and priesthood, all un- 
 blemished victims and sprinkhng of blood, every sin- 
 offering, scape-goat, basin and hyssop-branch, whispered 
 of the dying love that was to come. All types and 
 emblems foreshadowed this testimony of divine friend- 
 ship. There has been a reverberation of holy echoes 
 in the arches of all temples, betokening the descent of 
 divine compassion. The fires of aU combined sacrifices 
 have been going up, to presignify the whole burnt-offer- 
 ing of this great Day of Atonement, in which the sword 
 of God is to awake against the man that is his fellow, 
 and the perfect and final victim go up in the flame of 
 unutterable and infinite consecration. Christ dying for 
 the ungodly is the central radiant point, at once of di- 
 vine dispensations, of the world's history, of gospel 
 theology, and of sound experience. Who, by searching, 
 can find it out ! Herein is love, not that we loved God, 
 but that God loved us ! And it is all that we " may be 
 able to comprehend with all saints what is the breadth 
 
DYING FOR FRIENDS. 2. 9 7 
 
 and length, and depth and height, and to know the love 
 of Christ, which passeth knowledge, that we may be 
 filled with all the fulness of God." The demonstration 
 is complete, but its measures are unfathomable. When 
 we would know how much Christ loves his friends, 
 our only reply is by looking to the Cross ; but we must 
 look forever. Though we come again and again, with 
 the concentrated powers of all human minds, we cannot 
 reach the mystery, " the breadth, the length, the height." 
 " Angels that hymn the Great I Am, fall down and vail 
 before the Lamb." It is reserved for the heavenly 
 state to launch out more fully into the ocean of inquiry, 
 and to survey the unattainable dimensions of such a 
 friendship from God to man. 
 
 The love of Christ in dying for sinners, is the 
 ground of their friendship towards him. "We love 
 him because he first loved us." And this in two senses ; 
 for first, if he had not loved us beforehand, there would 
 be no grace dispensed to work these affections in our 
 hearts; and secondly, it is the consideration of this 
 sovereign and abounding love which awakens these 
 affections. We are fully aware that a different teach- 
 ing, from a school of metaphysical theology now near 
 extinction, has been heard in our churches ; but among 
 other blessed characteristics of the late Revival of Re- 
 ligion, we note a return to the cathohc experience of all 
 Christian ages, in regard to the power of God's love in 
 Christ as recognized by the repentant sinner. " The 
 love of Christ constraineth us." Here is the spring- 
 
193 DYING FOR FRIENDS. 
 
 head of all true religious feeling. Mistake on tliis point 
 may be disastrous. General views of the divine char- 
 acter and excellencies may produce awe, dread, adora- 
 tion, and approval, but will never^ enkindle love. The 
 friends of Christ are made such by contemplating his 
 love, and especially by^ acts of faith directed toward his 
 Cross. O that I knew how to treat this subject aright ! 
 Perhaps it wiU be safest to turn aside from the beaten 
 track of a merely doctrinal theology, and make an im- 
 mediate appeal to the experience of the new creature. 
 
 Take a view, then, first, of the soul unrenewed by 
 grace. And let us not choose for one instance any ex- 
 treme case of wickedness or unbelief, but one of those 
 gospel hearers who fill our assemblies and are some- 
 what instructed in the elements of religion. Let it 
 even be one who is not totally indifferent to the things 
 of another world. But he is, nevertheless, as yet un- 
 reconciled. Often does he endeavour, in thought, to 
 present to his view the sublime idea of the Great Su- 
 preme. Yet, if he makes frank confession, the thought 
 is not pleasing. He is overshadowed and weighed 
 down by the conception of one so high, inflexible, and 
 distant. The spirituality of God overwhelms him ; ho- 
 liness dazzles and humbles ; inexorable justice terrifies. 
 The startling truth perpetually reappears, that this pure 
 and mighty Jehovah is his enemy. The distance seems 
 a gulf which cannot be transcended. Efforts at obedi- 
 ence and reform recoil in a sense of incapacity and 
 gmlt. There is no inward view of the way in which 
 
DYING FOR FRIENDS. ^99 
 
 God can be just, and yet justify the ungodly. These 
 are among the most wretched moments of hfe. Often 
 does he turn away from the subject because it increases 
 pain, reveals sin, and awakens enmity. As often is he 
 reluctantly drawn back by the unwelcome fascination 
 of the awful verities. Thus it is with many during the 
 tedious night of legal conviction. They seem to grow 
 worse rather than better. They are under the Law, 
 and the law worketh wrath. Condemnation increases ; 
 for, *' by the Law is the knowledge of sin." It is far 
 more distressing than the former state of . carelessness ; 
 into which, indeed, the sinner vainly and madly tries to 
 return. No ray of benign compassion breaks through 
 the cloud of justice which envelopes the throne of the 
 Infinite Majesty. No tender melting views of sin dis- 
 solve the heart, which seems harder than before, and 
 sullen in its unloving discontent. No approaches to 
 God as a Father sweeten the acts of a constrained de- 
 votion. 
 
 But after a while a signal change is experienced. 
 This same soul, disheartened at the sight of its own 
 turpitude and illdesert, and appalled by the view of 
 divine perfections, is led by grace to contemplate a new 
 object, and to turn its regards to the person and work 
 of the Lord Jesus Christ. The sinner forgets ' himself 
 for a little, while he gazes on this unparalleled exhibition 
 of divine love. He beholds God descending in human 
 nature, to become the sacrifice and the priest. He 
 sees the immaculate Redeemer dying on the cross for 
 
200 DYING FOR FRIENDS. 
 
 the sin of man. He recognizes an atonement and 
 satisfaction to justice, sufficient to obliterate tlie guilt 
 of all mankind. He opens his heart to the Eriend of 
 sinners. He perceives that the whole work of redemp- 
 tion is out of himself, and independent not only of his 
 obedience but of all his feelings and exercises ; and that 
 the salvation thus complete is offered and made over to 
 sinners and to him, just as he is, without any prelimi- 
 nary qualification. Now, for the first time, he is struck 
 with the sovereignty of uncaused love. It is nothing 
 in him, or his state of mind, but all in this act and 
 demonstration of heavenly friendship. He owns with 
 wonder the freeness of the salvation. He can no longer 
 deny that it is for him, now, this moment, on his acqui- 
 escence and acceptance. The chief of sinners may 
 come. God loves the chief of sinners ; the proof is in 
 the Cross ; the proffer is in the Gospel ; his bonds are 
 loosed ; his self-righteousness is left behind ; and be- 
 fore he is aware his sinking soul is lifted in the arms of 
 the Son of God, and his tears are wiped away by the 
 pierced hands. Now, now, he exclaims, I perceive the 
 truth which I have heard and repeated a thousand*' 
 times. God is love 1 and love to me ! God forbid 
 that I should glory, save in the Cross of our Lord Jesus 
 Christ ! He is a believer, and while he believes he 
 loves. He sees the things that are freely given him of 
 God. He understands what is meant by salvation 
 without money and without price. God is no longer a 
 taskmaster and a judge, but a merciful and reconciled 
 
DYING FOR FRIENDS. 201 
 
 Father, tlirougli Clirist Jesus. He is astonished to ob- 
 serve, that all along, during his whole protracted strug- 
 gle, this infinite love has been equally free and equally 
 ofiered ; that God was willing, but he was umvilling ; 
 and he adores the grace which waited for his delay. 
 Unutterable is his grateful attachment to Jesus his 
 Saviour, who is now the chiefest among ten thousands. 
 He is the friend of Christ ; no longer a servant but a 
 son ; and from this moment onward he lives a new life, 
 by faith in the Son of God, who loved him and gave 
 himself for him. Thus the love of Christ, as dying for 
 sinners, is the ground of their friendship toward the 
 Redeemer. 
 
 There remains an important truth to be considered : 
 the true and certain test of being the friends of Christ, 
 is obedience to his precepts. " Ye are my friends, if ye 
 do whatsoever I command you." It is not profession, 
 my brethren, which makes the Christian. When Nao- 
 mi had her afiecting interview with her two daughters, 
 " Orpah kissed her mother-in-law, but Ruth clave unto 
 her." On this very paschal evening Simon Peter was 
 louder in profession than John ; and if Peter's character 
 had been always no other than during the denial, he 
 would have been only a hypocrite. You cannot quarrel 
 with this test. It is reasonable, it is incontestible. 
 The proof of Love afforded by obedience is triumphant. 
 Good works are not our passport to heaven in the way 
 of merit, but they are the infalhble fruits of faith, and 
 so the best criterion of attachment to the Lord. 
 
202 
 
 DYING FOR FRIENDS. 
 
 The operation of this principle is not abstruse or 
 recondite. We recognize its influence in the httle child 
 who does what is bidden out of love to the parent ; in 
 every act of comphance or service that proceeds from 
 common friendship. But it rises to its highest achieve- 
 ments in the grateful affection of the beUever to the 
 crucified Redeemer. That dying love works wonders 
 and constrains obedience. Recur to the tender in- 
 stance, when John and Mary stood at the foot of the 
 accursed tree, gazing intently on the Son of God in his 
 last pangs. " When Jesus, therefore, saw his mother^ 
 and the disciple standing by whom he loved, he saith 
 unto his mother, Woman, behold thy Son ! Then saith 
 he to the disciple. Behold thy mother!" Can we 
 doubt the result? Love wrought obedience. "Prom 
 that hour," that hour of love and death, " that disciple 
 took her unto his own home." And when the sacred 
 body, devoid of life, was lifted from the cross and made 
 ready for burial, and when the holy women and such 
 friends as had not fled looked on the heavenly counte- 
 nance of One who had loved them unto the end, charg- 
 ing upon their own sins the awful event and expiation, 
 do you need argument to convince yau that they felt 
 bound forever to obey his highest wish ? All the way 
 down through the ages of faith, this love has acted itself 
 out in obedience. Every behever owns in his inmost 
 heart, that he lies under an obhgation to surrender all 
 to Him who died for him ; as one redeemed not with 
 corruptible things, such as silver and gold, but with the 
 
DYING FOR FRIENDS. 203 
 
 blood of Christ as of a lamb without spot or blemish. 
 Ye are not your own ; ye are bought with a price. 
 " Henceforth," says Paul, " let no man trouble me, for 
 I bear in my body the marks of the Lord Jesus." 
 
 More need not be said as to the certain efficacy of 
 the principle ; but a word is necessary as to the extent 
 of the obedience. It is universal. "Whatsoever I 
 command you ; " that is, all my commands. In this 
 life, the obedience, indeed, is never perfect as to its acts 
 and the details of duty, " for in many things we offend 
 all." Yet it is universal in its purpose or intention. 
 True love, taking its origin from the Cross, does not 
 discriminate and select, does not prepare for some du- 
 ties and refuse others, but girds itself for all. And this 
 tendency of the will is a better evidence of grace than 
 any or all particularities of performance. Friendship 
 to Christ perpetually utters this language : I will hear 
 what God the Lord will speak. Lord, what wilt thou 
 have me to do ? I will perform whatsoever my dying 
 Saviour has commanded. I have sworn and I will 
 perform it, that I will keep all thy commandments. 
 He therefore who speaks thus, I will obey up to a cer- 
 tain point and there I wiU stop short, is not the friend 
 of Christ. He who says, I will keep the command- 
 ments at large, but this or that commandment I wiU 
 not keep, is not the friend of Christ. He who whispers 
 to himself, I wiR be pure in aU things else, but this one 
 secret, cherished, easily-besetting, darling sin, I will not 
 relinquish, is not the friend of Christ. The true dis- 
 
204 DYING FOR FRIENDS. 
 
 ciple abandons in purpose and endeavour all known 
 transgression. And if we turn our thoughts inward to 
 find one particular exercise in which more of true re- 
 ligion is concentrated than in all others, we shall dis- 
 cover none more certain than this, the absolute unselfish 
 oblation of the whole man — mind, heart, and will — as a 
 sacrifice to Christ, out of thankful regard to his dying 
 love. And when, as is sometimes our privilege, we 
 stretch forth our hands to the bread and the wine at 
 the Lord's Table, and rely on that broken body and shed 
 blood for our justification, the faith thus exercised is 
 inseparably connected with a solemn act of self-renoun- 
 cing and unreserved dedication to the holy will of our 
 redeeming God. This is the Hving sacrifice, the reason- 
 able service, with which God is well pleased. To keep 
 back any thing is to deny our Lord. He asks only the 
 heart ; but he asks it aU. And in gracious souls he has 
 it. It is his. He has bought it with his Cross and 
 Passion, and carries it away in triumph ; embracing in 
 almighty arms the ransomed one, who desires no other 
 Master, and is happy to be borne away captive by Him, 
 whose commandments are not grievous, whose yoke is 
 light, and whose service is freedom. 
 
IX. 
 
 THE BLOOD OP SPEINKLING. 
 
THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING.' 
 
 Hebeews xii. 24. 
 
 " The blood of sprinkling, that speaketh better things than that 
 
 of Abel." 
 
 The Old Testament is to some Christians almost a 
 sealed book, especially in those parts which treat of the 
 rites and ordinances pertaining to the tabernacle and 
 temple. But this is an inferior stage in religious 
 knowledge and experience, and should not be willingly 
 rested in. After having obtained a just view of Christ 
 as Mediator, from the clear representations of the New 
 Testament, we go back to the system of Levitical 
 types, and find it all there. It would be but an imper- 
 fect, undeveloped scheme of salvation, which should be 
 derived from the New Testament without the Old. In- 
 deed, the New constantly assumes and paraphrases the 
 
 * New York, January 15, 1857. 
 
208 '^H^ BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 
 
 Old; and many of the most precious Gospel declara- 
 tions of Christ and the Apostles would be unintelligible 
 hieroglyphics, without the key of Moses. It is the 
 manner of these great teachers to express spiritual, 
 gracious and eternal things in terms of the' temple and 
 the altar ; and this in conformity with a system, planned 
 from the beginning, in which all the type and symbol 
 of the Mosaic economy is a preparation for the clear 
 light of the latter day. Those, therefore, are the most 
 deeply taught and richly experienced believers, who, 
 after having learnt the simple principles of evangelical 
 truth in the New Testament, go back with them to the 
 Old Testament, and behold a hundredfold more beauty 
 and majesty in the same truths as arrayed in the forms 
 and laws of the Jewish service. In our endeavour, then, 
 to find the Cross in the Holy of HoHes, and the Gospel 
 in those smoking altars, we have our best aid in the Epis- 
 tle to the Hebrews, which might be named a Key to 
 the Tabernacle, or the Old Testament explained by the 
 New. The theology which results from such studies is 
 diametrically opposed to that of the metaphysical and 
 sentimental school, who cite little scripture, and almost 
 ignore the gorgeous pageantry of the old priestly service. 
 Though a distempered fancy may here, as elsewhere, 
 work mischief, these rites, which fill so much space in 
 the Pentateuch, admit of an application much more 
 detailed than is commonly enjoyed ; and under ApostoHc 
 guidance we shall do well to make ourselves largely ac- 
 quainted with this neglected mine of truth. 
 
THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 209 
 
 Even cursory readers perceive the striking parallel 
 between the bloody offerings of the temple and the 
 oblation of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ; but 
 few have taken pains to trace out the analogies, latent 
 in the particular parts of sacrificial work, every one of 
 which casts light upon the doctrine of redemption. At 
 such a season as this, when every eye ought to be bent 
 towards the atoning Lamb, we shall do well to enter 
 somewhat into the more concealed significancy of this 
 ceremonial, for the wine of sacred truth does not yield 
 itself without pressure, and the honeycomb of grace 
 requires its laden cells to be broken. 
 
 Consider with me, for a very few moments, the 
 several steps which belonged to a regular and complete 
 sacrifice, under the Aaronic liturgy.* First, there was 
 the selection of a suitable, unblemished animal, as the 
 victim ; let us say a lamb from the flock. This reminds 
 us at once of the Divine election of the Only-Begotten 
 Son, as the Lamb of God which taketh away the sins of 
 the world. Secondly, the innocent creature was sol- 
 emnly presented, for this peculiar purpose, near the 
 door of the tabernacle. Answerable to this is the 
 actual appearance of the Incarnate Son, in human na- 
 ture, and especially his solemn separation and oblation 
 of himself, the priest and victim being in this case one 
 and the same. Thirdly, we behold a most imposing 
 ceremony : the sinner who offers sacrifice lays his hands 
 
 * AfiTovpyla, Heb. ix. 21 et al. locis. 
 14 
 
210 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 
 
 upon the head of the animal, confessing his sins. In 
 the parallel instance of the scapegoat, the high priest is 
 said to " put the sins of the congregation on the head 
 of the goat." Jewish writers record the words with 
 which this imposition of hands was sometimes accom- 
 panied : " I beseech thee, Lord, I have sinned, I 
 have done perversely, I have rebelled, I have done so 
 and so (mentioning the transgression) ; but now I re- 
 pent, and let this victim be my expiation 1 " Who does 
 not recognize in this the sinner under the Gospel, who, 
 with clearer views, comes not to the visible but the 
 invisible altar ; not to the son of Aaron, but the son of 
 David and Son of God ; laying his hands not on the 
 lamb of the perishable flock, but on the head of the 
 divine sacrifice, and saying, " I have sinned, I have done 
 perversely, I have rebelled ; let this victim be my expia- 
 tion ! " So closely did the Hebrew connect this cere- 
 mony with the acknowledgment of guilt, that it grew 
 into a maxim, " Where there is no imposition of hands, 
 there is no confession." They were equally accustomed 
 to regard this laying on of hands as symbolically re- 
 moving the guilt of sins from the sinner to the sacrifice. 
 That which the Israelitish worshipper did, long before 
 the Great Sacrifice on Calvary, and even before the 
 slaying of his own typical offering, the Christian peni- 
 tent now does by an act of faith, looking back to the ob- 
 lation made once for all by the Lord Jesus. And every 
 time he casts the eye of beheving towards his hum- 
 bled, scourged, buffeted, bleeding, crucified Saviour, he 
 
THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 211 
 
 lays his hands anew upon the sacred Lamb, saying, 
 Let this victim be my expiation ! Fourthly, the sac- 
 rifice was slain, and consumed (sometimes wholly), 
 upon the altar. This was the great atoning act. 
 Here is blood for blood, and life for life. The basis of 
 all its significancy is laid down, Lev. xvii. 11 : " For the 
 life of the flesh is in the blood ; and I have given it to 
 you upon the altar, to make an atonement for your 
 souls : for it is the blood that maketh an atonement 
 for the soul; "or as some render it, "for the blood 
 atoned through the soul." It is not the matter of the 
 blood which atones, but the soul or life which resides in 
 it ; so that the soul of the ofiered victim atones for the 
 soul of the offering penitent. In the imperfect but 
 most speaking representation of type, the sacrifice of 
 the innocent symbolic substitute goes up to God in the 
 smoke of the bunit-offering, a sweet-smelling savour — 
 if we may borrow another phrase from the vocabulary 
 of Moses — a token and a pledge that the satisfaction is 
 not only ofiered but accepted. It is by that which is 
 here represented, to wit, by the self-oblation of the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, that the breach between heaven and 
 earth is made up ; and so far as the efiicacy of the 
 atonement is concerned, the work is complete and can 
 never be repeated. All other pretended sacrifices, 
 bloody or unbloody, are profane mockeries and insult- 
 ing disparagements of that sacrifice of Himself, " once 
 for aU," which terminated when Jesus cried, "It is 
 finished ! " Pifthly, and last in the order of sacrificial 
 
212 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 
 
 action, was the sprinkling of blood, to which your 
 attention is more particularly called, as involved in the 
 text, and as full of meaning appropriate to tliis ordi- 
 nance. Aspersion or sprinkhng is a symbolical act 
 employed with both water and blood. The sprinkhng 
 of water is a token of symbolical cleansing, and is just 
 as valid for this purpose, as if the whole body were 
 washed by plentiful affusion or immersion, otherwise it 
 would not have been so largely employed in the ritual 
 language of the Old Testament. To sprinkle is to 
 cleanse. Mark, therefore. Lev. xiv. T, when a leper 
 was to be purified : " And he shall sprinkle upon him 
 that is to be cleansed from the leprosy seven times, and 
 shall pronounce him clean'' As soon as he was thus 
 bedewed, his consciousness responded, "Now I am 
 ceremonially clean." It was to carry home this con- 
 sciousness that the act was ordained. Among the 
 " divers washings," (baptisms,*) we may confidently 
 enumerate what took place in the consecration of the 
 Levites, Numb. viii. Observe how they were cleansed : 
 " Take the Levites from among the children of Israel, 
 and cleanse them. And thus shalt thou do unto them 
 to cleanse them, SprinJcle water of purifying upon 
 them," etc. In another instance, where ceremonial de- 
 filement was contracted, a clean person was to take 
 hyssop and dip it in water, and sprinkle it upon the 
 tent and inmates ; all which prepared the Hebrew 
 
 * Aia<}>6poi5 ^atmarfxois. Heb. ix. 10. 
 
THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 213 
 
 people for compreliending such language as that of God 
 by the prophet : " Then will I sprinkle clean water 
 upon you and ye shall be clean ; from all your filthi- 
 ness and from all your idols will I cleanse you/' Ezek. 
 xxxvi. 25. In all these cases, whether in symbol or 
 reality, there was conveyed to the soul a divine purifica- 
 tion and a sense of it. 
 
 Now, if we turn from the application of baptismal 
 water to the apphcation of sacrificial blood, we shall ob- 
 serve the analogy hold good, and shall see the rite con- 
 ve3dng to the sinner a consciousness of acceptance with 
 God. In regard to God, the slaying and oblation was 
 enough : in regard to man, the blood must be sprin- 
 kled. God might be appeased, and yet the sinner might 
 be destitute of any pledge that it was so. Hence the 
 importance of the seal ; just as in our day the impor- 
 tance of sacramental sealings, in regard to acts long 
 since consummated. " This sprinkling of blood was by 
 much the most sacred part of the entire service, since 
 it was that by which the hfe and soul of the victim 
 were considered to be given to God as supreme Lord 
 of Ufe and death; for what was placed upon the 
 altar of God was supposed, according to the rehgion of 
 the Jews, to be rendered to him." * But the same 
 typical sprinkhng reaches the offerer and sometimes 
 the whole congregation, in token of their participation 
 in the finished work. Those who honour God's Old 
 
 * Outram on Sacrifice. 
 
214 THE BLOOD OF SPRIKKLINa 
 
 Testament lessons will not turn away from a short ex- 
 amination of several cases as prescribed in tlie Law. 
 
 In the cleansing of one who had been afflicted with 
 leprosy, after the slaying of one of the two sacrificial 
 birds, the priest was to dip hyssop (among other things) 
 in the blood, and sprinkle npon the leper seven times. 
 Lev. xiv. This is a very simple and very striking ser- 
 vice, in which the sprinkling of blood is used for puri- 
 fication. 
 
 But greatly more solemn is the next case, Lev. xvi., 
 in which the method is detailed in which the high 
 priest, once in the year, on the great day of Atonement, 
 shall enter into the Holy of holies. A bullock, as one 
 of the nobler animals, is slain and laid on the altar. 
 Then, verse 14, " he shall take of the blood of the bul- 
 lock and sprinkle it with his finger upon the mercy-seat 
 eastward, and before the mercy-seat shall he sprinkle of 
 the blood with his finger seven times." The mercy- 
 seat, or, far more properly, the propitiatory, was the 
 awful centre of the shrine, displaying its golden efful- 
 gence above the ark of the covenant, and just beneath 
 the covering wings of the overshadowing cherubim. 
 To sprinkle the blood here, was to bring it to the throne 
 of Jehovah, amidst the blaze of the Shekinah, unap- 
 proachable save by the typical Mediator. It was to 
 declare before Infinite Justice, that the satisfaction was 
 complete, by venturing even there with that which was 
 the life and soul of the sacrifice. This is blood which 
 " speaks." The apostle Paul refers to this, Heb. ix. 18, 
 
THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. £15 
 
 "For when Moses had spoken every precept to the 
 people according to the law, he took the blood of calves 
 and of goats, with water and scarlet wool, and hyssop, 
 and sprinkled both the book and all the people, say- 
 ing. This is the blood of the testament which God hath 
 enjoined unto you : * moreover, he sprinkled with 
 blood both the tabernacle and all the vessels of the 
 ministry. And almost all things are by the law purged 
 with blood, and without shedding of blood is no remis- 
 sion." And after these striking words, the apostle goes 
 on to show, that all this was done in antitype and real- 
 ity, when our glorious High Priest entered into the 
 heavenly places, to present the merit of his own most 
 precious blood-shedding. As the whole virtue of the 
 sacrifice resided in the life, which, as we have above 
 cited, was in the blood, the solemn presentation of the 
 blood was a sign that the oblation was complete ; and 
 the sprinkling of it on sinners was a token to them that 
 the guilt of their sins was remitted. We have dwelt 
 thus long upon an external rite, which many pass over 
 as insignificant, because this is God's own method of 
 conveying to us, in the most lively and impressive man- 
 ner, the cardinal truth of propitiation and pardon. 
 This, then, is that " blood of sprinkling," spoken of in 
 the text. 
 
 The way is now open to us to inquire. How the 
 BLOOD OF Christ, the great antitype, " speaketh 
 
 * Compare Luke xii 20. 
 
216 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 
 
 BETTER THINGS THAN THAT OF AbEL." Words need 
 
 not be multiplied in exposition of the clause. The 
 blood of Abel spake dreadful things, when God said to 
 Cain, " The voice of thy brother's blood crieth unto me 
 from the ground." It was vocal with wrath. It ut- 
 tered the echo of God's vindicatory indignation against 
 fratricide. It was the first human bloodshed, and an 
 event fitted to strike by comparison and contrast. 
 Now, in this view, 1. The blood of Jesus speaks atone- 
 ment, satisfaction, and access to God's favour. And 
 this it specially does as sprinkled or exhibited in the 
 sight of the Supreme Majesty. It must have been an 
 hour of breathless interest and expectation, when the 
 hundreds of thousands of Israel, gathered on that high 
 day in the tabernacle court, followed with their eyes 
 the high priest in his pontifical array, with the graven 
 jewels and names on his breast, as with stately mien 
 and profound awe he passed towards the sacred tent, 
 bearing in his hands the blood of the altar, and then, 
 lost within the curtains, advanced to the invisible recess 
 of hidden glory. But the gospel shows us something 
 more august than this shadow. " For Christ is not en- 
 tered into the holy places made with hands, which are 
 the figures of the true, but into heaven itself, now to 
 appear in the presence of God for us. Nor yet that he 
 should offer himself often, as the high priest entereth 
 into the holy place every year with blood of others ; but 
 now once in the end of the world hath he appeared, to 
 put away sin, by the sacrifice of himself." The sprin- 
 
THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 
 
 217 
 
 IJing of typical blood, in regard to God, declared that 
 sin was atoned for, and that a way was opened for sin- 
 ners into the Hohest of all. This sprinkling was ac- 
 complished when the Lord Jesus, by the blood of the 
 everlasting covenant, made solemn entrance into heaven, 
 in the name of his people, and when — ^if I may use Le- 
 vitical expressions, famihar to the Gospel, and provided 
 for this very end — he drew near to the primeval and 
 real mercy-seat in heaven, and there left traces of his 
 own divine blood, as though he said, " I have finished 
 the work which thou gavest me to do ; here am I, and 
 the children whom thou hast given me. Spare them, 
 for I have borne their sins in my own body on the tree , 
 of which the pledge and testimonial is this blood, ex- 
 pressed from my human veins in Gethsemane, at the 
 place of scourging, and on the Cross." And so everlast- 
 ing is the remembrance of this in heaven, that John the 
 Apostle says, in his Apocalypse, " And I beheld, and 
 lo, in the midst of the throne and of the four beasts, 
 and in the midst of the elders, stood a Lamb, as it had 
 been slain." Still does the blood of Christ speak better 
 things than that of Abel, by causing the merit of the 
 Atonement to resound in heaven. 
 
 2. The blood of Jesus speaks peace to the believing 
 sinner s conscience. One may be interested in the 
 great salvation, and yet be destitute of certainty. We 
 are constrained to judge thus concerning some of the 
 best of God's people, in their moments of darkness and 
 depression. The same blood which removes guilt by 
 
218 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 
 
 being shed at the altar, removes fear by being sprin- 
 kled on the believing oflPerer. This is the great mean- 
 ing of the sealing type. It was so apphed to the people 
 with some profusion, for the blood being put into ba- 
 sins, and having water miagled to keep it fluid, was 
 conveyed on a bunch or bundle of hyssop bound up 
 with scarlet wool, till it was all spent in the service. 
 This rite of sprinkling was chosen of God as an expres- 
 sive sign of the effectual communication of the benefits 
 of the covenant to the persons so bedewed. The blood 
 of Christ was not divided, as was that of the Levitical 
 sacrifice, part being sprinkled on the altar and part on 
 the sinner ; but the efficacy of his one oblation pro- 
 duced both consequences. Yet we need both. Even 
 though offered to God, it must be applied to us. The 
 High Priest sprinkles our heart and conscience, as with 
 the hyssop-branch ; which explains the lamenting prayer 
 of David, " Purge me with hyssop and I shaU be clean." 
 This application is wrought by the Holy Spirit; and 
 how gracious is this effusion ! We stand at a great 
 distance, unable to serve God with any Hberty, till he 
 thus speaks peace to our troubled souls. This filial 
 serving of the living God is expressly noted as the end 
 for which the application is made, Heb. ix. 13; and let 
 us here learn to rise fi:om the type to the antitype : " For 
 if the blood of bulls and goats, and the ashes of an 
 heifer spiinkling the unclean, sanctifieth to the purifying 
 of the flesh, how much more shall the blood of Christ, 
 who through the Eternal Spirit offered himself without 
 
THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 219 
 
 spot to God, purge your conscience from dead works, 
 to ser\^e the living God." Then we can serve with 
 well-grounded cheerfulness, when the warm eflPusion of 
 Christ's blood is felt upon our hearts, which so lately 
 were sinking with dread. 
 
 Let us go back to the Law, which is our school- 
 master to bring us to Christ. Here is an offender, 
 standing pensive and awe-struck before the altar of 
 burnt-offering. He has presented his victim ; he has 
 laid on it the hand of confession and imputation ; he 
 has seen it deprived of Hfe and laid upon the blazing 
 altar ; he has gazed upon the series of symbohcal actions 
 expressive of the atoning work and satisfaction to God. 
 But one thing is yet wanting, to assure him of his in- 
 dividual participation in this justifying righteousness ; 
 he receives from the hyssop-branch the sacred drops 
 upon his vestment and his person. His pardon is 
 sealed. He says, with a new consciousness, " I am 
 free! This oblation avails for me! God remits my 
 guilt for the sake of sacrifice ! " Now all this takes 
 place in a New Testament sense. The convinced sinner 
 has a clear view of the plan of remedy provided in the 
 Gospel, and of Jesus Christ as the one atoning sacrifice. 
 At the feet of this Cross he confesses his sins. He be- 
 holds there a propitiation amply adequate for the pardon 
 of a world. He approves the method, and honours its 
 wisdom and love. He perceives the law exalted and 
 God's anger turned away. This, so far as it goes, is 
 faith; but peace is in abeyance. He knows Christ 
 
220 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 
 
 to be a Saviour, but he falters in claiming Christ a 
 Saviour for him, until, blessed moment ! the veil is 
 rent, the priest returns from the most holy place, and 
 sprinkles him with the peace-speaking blood. Now he 
 can cry, " I know whom I have believed ; " " Christ Je- 
 sus came into the world to save sinners, of whom I am 
 chief; " " My beloved is mine, and I am his ; " " My 
 Lord and my God ! " Thus the blood of the covenant 
 speaketh to the conscience better things than that of 
 Abel. 
 
 3. As a case under the preceding, the blood of 
 sprinkling speaks peace to the soul in regard to daily 
 sins. Oh, shameful, dreadful word ! Yet none more 
 true. No dream is more directly opposed to the Scrip- 
 tures than the pretence to sinless perfection. "If we 
 say that we have no sin we deceive ourselves, and the 
 truth is not in us." Every instructed Christian knows 
 that he sins, by commission or by omission, every hour ; 
 and that he requires not only a primary reconciliation 
 to God, on the ground of Christ's one sacrifice, but a 
 constant renewal of the same grace, to keep him in 
 favour, and particularly to persuade him of his accept- 
 ance, which is not always easy, in the face of those cor- 
 ruptions which break out even into act. A fair and 
 most important distinction must be taken between 
 Justification, which is a single act, accomphshed in- 
 stantaneously, once for all, at the sinner's first behev- 
 ing, and Pardon, which must be renewed day by day, 
 though its efficacy depends upon the one original sacri- 
 
THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 
 
 221 
 
 fice. Such was tlie glory of that oblation, that it 
 needed not to be repeated, in this differing from the 
 typical sacrifices, which were reiterated as fresh sins 
 arose. Heb. x. 1. "For the law having a shadow of 
 good things to come, and not the very image of the 
 things, can never with those sacrifices which they 
 offered year by year continually, make the comers 
 thereunto perfect. Por then would they not have 
 ceased to be offered? because that the worshippers, 
 once purged, should have had no more conscience of 
 sins!' But when Messiah comes, v. 10, we are saved 
 " by the offering of the body of Jesus Christ once for 
 all." Nevertheless, that which is ever-enduring in its 
 value and prevalency needs to be apphed to us fre- 
 quently, to take away " conscience of sins ; " that is, 
 while there is but one Sacrifice, there are many 
 Sprinklings. As long as we live^ and every day that 
 we Hve, our rising evils of heart and life are such as 
 would destroy aU peace, if it were not for the hyssop- 
 branch in the hand of the Spirit. There is a two-fold 
 appHcation to the soul of Christ's atoning righteous- 
 ness by the Holy Spirit ; one, which is single, and 
 never repeated, the effect of which is to interest such 
 soul in the redemptive acts; the other, which is perpet- 
 ually renewed, the effect of which is to give jpeace to 
 the soul under a sense of pardon. That experience 
 may justly be distrusted in which there is no going 
 again and again to the blood of Jesus for new appHca- 
 tions. Thousands have used the words of the great 
 
222 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 
 
 penitential Psalm, with a feeling of their necessity. 
 The royal sinner knew that he had received the Holy 
 Spirit, for he prays that he may not lose the gift. He 
 knew that he had possessed the joy of God's salva- 
 tion, for he implores that it may be restored. But 
 at the same time he sues for fresh pardons : " Blot 
 out my transgressions ; " " Purge me with hyssop ; " 
 and for new peace of conscience, " Make me to hear joy 
 and gladness, that the bones which thou hast broken 
 may rejoice." The divine affusion of the sacred blood 
 upon the heart and conscience, tends, as the Christian 
 life goes on, to make the subject a more obedient and 
 a happier Christian ; which seems to be contemplated 
 by the Apostle Peter, when he designates believers as 
 "elect according to the foreknowledge of God the 
 Father, through sanctification of the Spirit, unto obedi- 
 ence, and sprinkling of the blood of Jesus Christ." 
 The same ideas of obedience and renewed pardon are 
 presented in connexion by the Apostle John : " My 
 Httle children, these things write I unto you, that ye 
 sin not. And if any man sin, we have an Advocate 
 with the Father, Jesus Christ, [who never sinned,] and 
 he is the propitiation for our sins." The true oblation 
 reaches that which Aaronic oblations could not reach, 
 namely, the conscience ; for Paul says, that those were 
 gifts and sacrifices, that could not make him that did 
 the service perfect as ]pertaining to the conscience^ 
 Grace and mercy result in peace, named in its higher 
 measures the " peace of God which passeth all under- 
 
THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 223 
 
 standing." Love hath for its nature to make itself 
 known and to have itself behoved. The infinite love 
 of God to the soul is not satisfied until it pours itself 
 into the consciousness, saying, " I have loved thee with 
 an everlasting love, therefore with loving kindness have 
 I drawn thee." God might have postponed the disclo- 
 sure of the soul's safety until the day of judgment ; the 
 blood might have been carried within the veil of the 
 visible heavens, and offered at the cherubic throne, 
 without ever being applied to our souls in this earthly 
 state. But far different has been the gracious purpose 
 of our High Priest, who condescends to assure us of 
 our redemption, and to sprinkle us with his blood. The 
 word of the Gospel, in the written revelation, precious 
 as it is, and fundamental as it is to all edification within, 
 utters assurances only of general favour. There must 
 be a distinct act of the Spirit to carry this home to the 
 individual consciousness. And so many are the doubts 
 and misgivings, engendered by indweUing sin, that we 
 need our beloved Saviour to tell us again and again 
 that he is at peace with us and loves us stiQ. The 
 words which he employs for this purpose are the very 
 words which stand recorded in his written testament ; 
 but they are uttered with a new tone of personal love 
 and a voice trembhng with individual compassion. And 
 sometimes he vouchsafes to employ the idiom of signs 
 and pledges, more penetrating than that of speech, and 
 to address us thus : " Take, eat, this is my body : This 
 cup is the new covenant in my blood, shed for many. 
 
224 THE BLOOD OF SPRINKLING. 
 
 for the remission of sins." But the retrospective sacra- 
 ment would be as inoperative as the prospective sacri- 
 fice, unless there were superadded the gracious work of 
 the Spirit within, applying the blood of Jesus Christ to 
 the heart, and witnessing with our spirits that we are 
 the children of God. More simply, the Divine influence 
 increases faith, renders its object more clear, precise, 
 complete and free from error, and makes its acting more 
 constant and intense. In this the Word is greatly 
 aided by the sign and seal. And when the word of 
 promise, set forth in this two-fold way, is made good 
 to the soul at the communion, the effect is the same as 
 if the bridegroom's own lips audibly should say to the 
 particular participants : " I am come into my garden, 
 my sister, my spouse; I have gathered my myrrh 
 with my spice; I have eaten my honeycomb with 
 my honey; I have drunk my wine with my milk; 
 eat, O friends; drink, yea, drink abundantly, O be- 
 loved ! " Such invitations will be peculiarly welcome 
 to those who halt with the wounds of recent sins, and 
 who seem to hear the challenge, " Simon, son of Jonas, 
 lovest thou me ? " But as surely as the bread and the 
 wine shall presently be offered to your taste, so surely 
 Christ offers to you, sinful though you be, all the ad- 
 vantages of the blood of sprinkling. 
 
X. 
 
 THE THIRSTY INVITED 
 
 15 
 
THE THIRSTY INVITED* 
 
 Isaiah Iv. 1. 
 " Ho, every one that thirsteth, come ye to the waters." 
 
 Who is there among us, that remembers near the 
 home of his infancy or the play-ground of his youth, 
 some cool and crystal spring, that burst forth from its 
 covert of rock, or its margin of grass, and freshened all 
 the scene around ? Such an object of natural scenery 
 Hves long in the memory. To such a source of innocent 
 delight we resort again and again, without weariness 
 and without satiety. That which attracted us first, 
 charms us still, and the reason is, that it is living, pe- 
 rennial and inexhaustible, yielding supplies to wants 
 which are perpetually returning. As long as men 
 thirst, they wlQ value the clear cold fountain. But if, 
 
 * New York, July 9, 1854. 
 
228 '^^^ THIKSTY myiTED. 
 
 even in this temperate clime, we are often made to 
 comprehend the invaluable excellency of this great and 
 lavish gift to our craving humanity, how much hveher 
 must be the feeling, in those torrid regions, where 
 most of the scriptural scenes are laid ! A spring of 
 water is always a desirable object ; but how surpassing 
 its fascination amidst tropical heats, or in the scorching 
 wastes of the desert, where the panting caravan looks 
 out for hours to catch the first signs of verdure ! Con- 
 sider this, and you will no longer marvel at the large 
 place which is occupied by wells and fountains, in the 
 beautiful pastoral and nomadic pictures of the Old 
 Testament. The hterature of the patriarchs is emi- 
 nently an out- door and a summer literature, which we 
 best understand when we leave the luxuries and con- 
 straint of cities, and dwell abroad, under the fair 
 heavens, and amidst the bright and picturesque sur- 
 roundings of an oriental Hfe. The imagination and 
 memory of the Bible-reader are familiar with such ob- 
 jects in the ancient landscape ; the wells of Abram, 
 Isaac and Jacob ; the fountain opened to despairing 
 Hagar ; the well of Rebekah, and the not less lovely 
 well of Uachel ; the well of Jethro and Moses ; the 
 palm-tree wells of Elam ; and that fount of which thirsting 
 David cried, " that one would give me drink of the water 
 of the well of Bethlehem, which is by the gate ! " Bearing 
 these associations in our minds, we can the better catch 
 the meaning of promises which declare that the thirsty 
 land shall become springs of water, and that God will 
 
THE THIRSTY INVITED. £29 
 
 lead his people to fountains of living water. But why 
 seek remote illustrations of that which finds its prompt 
 response in the bosom of all who ever were athirst ? 
 It is to such, in a spiritual sense, that the invitation of 
 the text is addressed, " Ho, every one that thirsteth, 
 come ye to the waters ! " And we may, without la- 
 boured investigation, consider it as offering the benefits 
 of the gospel to those who are perishing. I ask you on 
 this holy day, to examine with me the fulness, the free- 
 ness, and the universality of the offered gift. 
 
 I. The fulness of the offered gift. It is water ; it 
 is abundance of water. There must be something in 
 this natural object, which is suited to symbohze the 
 provision made in the gospel for the salvation of man- 
 kind. Man is so constituted that he must have water, 
 or perish. Give him all things else, but deny him 
 every liquid refreshment, and .you destroy his life. 
 Nothing more forcibly shows this, than the famihar 
 fact, that even on the vast ocean, the mariner, surrounded 
 by a world of waters, must nevertheless carry with him 
 the fresh products of the living fountain. The appetite 
 for this supply is so strong, that when long ungratified, 
 it becomes a frenzy. And how bountiful is the supply ! 
 In hill and valley the springs of water bubble up, with 
 a sweet caprice and dehghtful irregularity, or the hand 
 of labour penetrates deeply to the cooHng vein, in both 
 cases with a liberality like that which pours a vital at- 
 mosphere around our planet. The evaporation from 
 earth and ocean, and the descent of copious showers 
 
230 '^^^ THIRSTY INVITED. 
 
 maintain in plenitude this great reservoir for the 
 cleansing and cheering of mankind. It is indispensa- 
 ble to the natural life of the race. And so is the gospel 
 to the spiritual life. Men must partake of it, or perish. 
 When duly enhghtened, they feel this to be their con- 
 dition, and thirst for righteousness. Such an invitation 
 as that of the text implies that the supply is large ; or 
 it could not suffice for all. The provision of grace 
 leaves nothing wanting, for the worst conceivable indi- 
 vidual case, or for the utmost number of persons to be 
 saved. We must be careful not to undervalue the re- 
 medial methods and so to limit the Holy One of Israel. 
 In this case God has acted like himself, with a large 
 and sublime munificence ; more striking even than in 
 the wonderful arrangements of original creation and 
 providence, because these do not contemplate a crea- 
 ture malignant and self-destroyed. If any one thing, 
 even the slightest, had been left undone, which was nec- 
 essary to the salvation of the sinner, the work would 
 not have had this completeness. But all is furnished. 
 It need not be here made an affair of argument, that 
 the great demand is for a righteousness for those who 
 who have none ; that mysterious and potent something, 
 which shall heal the difference between heaven and earth, 
 answer the claim of law, turn away the wrath of Jehovah, 
 cleanse the guilt of sin, give a title to life, and afford a 
 pledge of continuance in a holy state and of everlasting 
 blessedness and perfection beyond the grave. The all- 
 comprehending gift is the gift of God's own Son. " God 
 
THE THIRSTY INVITED. 231 
 
 liath given unto us eternal life, and this life is in his 
 Son." The Incarnation, the obedience and the vicarious 
 suffering of the Lord Jesus Christ, are the source of 
 all the streams which here issue in such fulness. But 
 the point where above all others the waters gush forth 
 from the smitten rock is the Cross of our Redeemer. 
 There, when his last cry of pain is over, and out of his 
 side issue water and blood, we have the consummation 
 of a gift to man, which is full beyond expression. Sin- 
 ners by myriads may come in, and yet there is room. 
 The invitation may be large, for the provision is vast. 
 Not only is the springhead of these mercies great, but 
 it cannot be greater. The consideration of this is very 
 necessary for the steady confidence of our faith ; and 
 this is felt most deeply in hours when conviction of sin is 
 peculiarly pungent. The righteousness of Christ is 
 infinite. We are made just by this, and by nothing 
 else. Now that which gives to this righteousness any 
 merit, gives it all merit. The divinity of him who 
 obeys and suffers, exalts the meritorious obedience 
 and suffering to a maximum. Were all the sons and 
 daughters of Adam, who have been, are, and shall be, 
 to gather in one numberless mass, with the Cross for 
 its centre and object of desire, there were enough for 
 all. When Jesus bowed his head and gave up the 
 ghost, he completed a sacrifice which is absolutely il- 
 limitable. Yea, though all worlds were peopled with 
 sinners, here were enough for all ; we say not in God's 
 purpose, nor in his covenant growing out of purpose. 
 
232 
 
 THE THIRSTY INVITED. 
 
 nor in the actual application of redemption according 
 to covenant, but in the value of the Atonement. If 
 more were to be saved, it would need no more right- 
 eousness, and no more effusion of the sacred vital flood, 
 although the contrary has been alleged as our belief. 
 If this is not fulness of redemption, we must despair of 
 communicating this idea by language. And yet we 
 must proceed to add to this statement in a particular 
 respect. The atonement might be complete, and yet 
 not be effectual. In God's holy purpose, it needs to 
 be applied. Some have represented the covenant of 
 grace as simply placing man in " a salvable state." We 
 go further than this. Man may be in a salvable state, 
 yet never reach a state of salvation. The plan of God 
 proposes to bring men actually into the kingdom. The 
 invitation is to come to a provided fulness of effectual 
 grace ; to faith and its consequences ; to perseverance 
 in holiness and everlasting life. These waters break 
 over the verge of their receptacle, and seem to fall like 
 the inviting spray of a great fountain, holding out 
 promise of infinite capacity beyond all that is seen. 
 Till we can conceive of something greater than God, we 
 need have no fear of trusting the whole weight of our 
 salvation on the method which he has revealed ; for he 
 has made it, so to speak, commensurate with himself; 
 by laying his very divinity in pledge, and causing the 
 value of the salvation to repose on the eternal glories of 
 his own nature. 
 
 II. The freeness of the offered gift awaits our notice. 
 
THE THIRSTY INVITED. 233 
 
 This is implied by the strong terms of invitation, Ho, 
 EVERY ONE, COME YE ! It is still more clearly signified 
 by the words immediately following, where the figure 
 is slightly modified, though the general idea of thirst 
 remains prominent ; " yea come, buy wine and milk, 
 without money and without price." It is not to a 
 purchase, but a gift. The gratuitousness of the com- 
 munication could not be more strongly expressed. It 
 is here held forth and proclaimed with divine earnest- 
 ness, that he who comes to the salvation of the gospel, 
 receives it without any ofPer of recompense or any wor- 
 thiness on his own part. The fountain of hfe has in- 
 deed its price, a price which has been paid. It 
 cost the agonies and death of the Son of God. To se- 
 cure our salvation it was necessary that a struggle and 
 a humihation hitherto unknown in the universe should 
 take place. The price has been laid down, for us, but 
 not by us. Eternal justice has been satisfied on our 
 behalf ; but to u:s the invitation is without money and 
 without price. 
 
 The reiteration of this truth may strike some as 
 needless. They are ready to exclaim, " Who doubts that 
 the gospel is free ? " In reply we must observe, that 
 while no truth is more affirmed in our creeds, none is 
 more denied in our practice. It is hard to make men 
 believe, that they may come to the Lord Jesus Christ 
 gratuitously, that is without any previous condition. 
 There are few believers who do not remember the mo- 
 ment when this unconditional freeness of the gospel 
 
234 THE THIRSTY INVITED. 
 
 broke upon their minds as a great revelation. They 
 had been lying long beside the pool of healing, waiting 
 for some one to put them in. They thought there was 
 a long and difficult preparation before they could ven- 
 ture to come to Christ. They interpreted the invitation 
 as made to such and such persons, having particular 
 quahties, and they were not sure that these qualities 
 were in themselves. They could not approach the 
 fountain because they did not feel enough ; they dared 
 not beheve, because they did not grieve enough. Or, 
 in some of the endlessly shifting varieties of delusive ex- 
 perience, they were setting a price on pardon, and seek- 
 ing to make up the amount ; they were working on 
 their own hearts, to make them more fit for Christ ; 
 they were essaying a half-way work, which, without 
 erasing the word " grace " from the record, should leave 
 to self some of the glory of preparation. And the mo- 
 ment when all this was swept away, is memorable in 
 the believer's history. It is the moment which imme- 
 diately precedes faith. Up to this instant, he has 
 been trying earnestly to do something, which shall 
 make him more fit to receive Christ. Now, he sees 
 that the whole deed of righteousness is done already, 
 that its full value is offered to him in the gospel, and 
 that he is authorized to accept it. 
 
 But so subtle and protean is self -righteousness, that 
 even the free words of the invitation may be distorted 
 into a legal condition. " Every one that thirsteth." The 
 busy demon at the ear, who dreads nothing so much 
 
THE THIRSTY INVITED. 
 
 235 
 
 as that the sinner should believe, here "whispers, * But 
 perhaps you do not thirst, or you do not thirst enough, 
 or you do not thirst aright.' Such queries might in- 
 deed be urged forever, and run to an infinite series, if 
 any sort or kind of preparatory condition were required. 
 The question might still be, Do I possess this condi- 
 tion ? And it is a question which can never be an- 
 swered. We have known persons who were engaged 
 during the entire course of their lives, in agitating the 
 inquiry, whether they feel enough ; whether they feel 
 their need of Christ ; whether they are not too unfeel- 
 ing ; whether they hate sin enough ; whether they are 
 sufficiently in earnest. All these are proper questions, 
 in relation to another matter ; but here they are out of 
 place, and serve only to keep the sick away from the 
 physician. These hngerings and scruples arise from 
 a source, to which I beg your profoundest attention. 
 They arise from founding hope on feelings of our own, 
 instead of founding it on God's veracity. The truth of 
 God's promise is the everlasting rock. Here build 
 and be safe. All else, especially all within us, is a 
 quicksand. The word of the Lord endureth forever. 
 True faith utterly forgets itseK, and credits the assur- 
 ance of God's free pardon. It looks away from its own 
 worthiness and its own unworthiness, and hears God 
 saying " Ho ! " " Come ye ! " Come without money and 
 without price ! And it comes : without turning to the 
 right hand or to the left. The question no longer is. 
 What am I ? but what is God ? Is he true ? Has he 
 
236 THE THIRSTY INVITED. 
 
 spoken ? It sets to its seal, that God is true. It ac- 
 quiesces in a righteousness already finished. So it 
 saves. 
 
 The doctrinal truth which hes at the basis of all 
 these exercises is, that the procuring cause of our ac- 
 ceptance with God, is not any thing done by us, or in 
 us, not any work, preparation, frame or feeling, but 
 only the perfect righteousness of the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 The trumpet sounds thus, from over the fresh fountain, 
 " Whosoever will, let him take of the water of life, 
 FREELY." And the persuaded soul, now taught the great 
 lesson of self-renunciation and self-forgetfulness, and 
 swallowed up in admiration of the stupendous gift, falls 
 into the open arms of dying Love. 
 
 When a wretch, just at the point of expiring with 
 thirst, opens his lips to receive the cool reviving draught, 
 does he think of this act of his, though voluntary, as 
 constituting any previous claim ? As little does the be- 
 liever ascribe any meritorious virtue to his sinful be- 
 heving, which is no more than his acquiescence in the 
 method which God has provided. Thus unbounded is 
 the freeness of the offer which is made of all evangehcal 
 blessings, including pardon, peace, and eternal life. 
 
 III. The universality of the offer is here : "Ho, every 
 one that thirsteth." Salvation, or in other words, 
 Christ the author of salvation, is offered to all nations 
 of mankind. The topic is so large and inviting, that I 
 must admonish myself to dispatch it in few words. 
 Nothing is more famihar to us, nothing was more strange 
 
THE THIRSTY INVITED. 237 
 
 to the ancients, than that the favour of God should be 
 made coextensive with the world ; and while it was a 
 stumbling-block to Judaism, it was the theme which, 
 of all others, lifted Paul to the highest rapture, as apos- 
 tle of the Gentiles. The middle wall of partition was 
 broken down. The vail of the temple was rent. The 
 waters of life, seen in vision by Ezekiel, broke over the 
 Eastern threshold of the temple, and flowed in a mighty 
 stream. Jesus offered himself a sacrifice not for Israel 
 only, but for all nations. " He is the propitiation for 
 our sins," said John, " and not for ours only, but for the 
 sins of the whole world." And coincident with this 
 purpose was the great commission, " Go ye into all the 
 world and preach the gospel to every creature." It 
 was foreseen by Isaiah, the evangeHcal prophet. In 
 God's wonderful providence, grace had been Hmited to 
 a chosen nation, but now the system was enlarged, so 
 as to be a universal rehgion, and henceforth "God 
 commandeth all men, everywhere, to repent." This 
 blessed gospel is now on its triumphant progress 
 through the earth, and the day is fixed in the counsels 
 of heaven, when it shall be " made known to all nations 
 for the obedience of faith." The gracious summons is 
 to an realms and peoples. 
 
 The blessings of religion are hereby offered to men 
 of every state, class and character. To be a human 
 creature, and to hear the gospel, is to come within the 
 comprehension of this grace. It proclaims its fulness 
 and freeness to young and old, rich and poor, learned 
 
238 THE THIRSTY INVITED. 
 
 and simple, high and low. It does not single out cer- 
 tain classes as those who may be saved, but declares 
 that all may be saved, even as all who are athirst may 
 drink. It does not indeed promise that men shall be 
 saved in their sins, for the very salvation delivers jfrom 
 sin, and this water is in each who tastes it a well of 
 water springing up to everlasting life, and manifesting 
 its virtue by holiness of thought, affection, speech and 
 work. But as to the prerequisite for accepting the 
 offer, the Gospel does not demand holiness ; this does 
 not yet exist ; it is to be produced ; it is part of the 
 benefit to be sought. No one should suppose himself 
 excluded from the promise of free pardon and life, be- 
 cause of any thing in his condition or character. Pro- 
 vided he come as a sinner all athirst for pardon, and 
 beheves in Him who justifieth the ungodly, he is sure 
 of welcome. And, as no man's proper name is in the 
 grant, the only warrant wliich any has, is the promise 
 which is made to all. The general invitation becomes 
 particular, when it is appropriated by faith. In a mu- 
 tinous army, if the commander or prince publishes an 
 act of forgiveness and amnesty to all who are willing to 
 receive it, the rebel who hears, believes and submits 
 himself, makes the gratuity his own. Thousands hear 
 the terms of the gospel, but do not accept them. But 
 the reason why any one accepts and is saved, is not 
 that the provision was not sufficient for all, or the proffer 
 of life equally made to all, but simply that he, an un- 
 deserving wretch, yields to the moving of the gracious 
 
THE THIRSTY INVITED. 239 
 
 Spirit, takes God at his word, and makes tlie universal 
 offer his own •particular salvation. To the very end of 
 the present dispensation, the preaching of the gospel 
 authorizes all sinners of mankind to come and be freed 
 from sin. 
 
 More particularly, the salvation is free to the chief 
 of sinners. This is necessary to its universahty. If there 
 were one degree of turpitude which was excepted from 
 the general pardon, what sinful heart is there, which 
 would not sometimes be tempted to think that degree 
 its own? But there is none such. The infinite merit 
 of Christ, which is the sole basis of the offer, proves 
 that there is none such. The blood of Jesus Christ 
 cleanseth from all sui. He is able to save to the utter- 
 most, all that come unto God by him. There is no dye 
 of guilt, which these waters do not cleanse. Considered 
 in itself, there is no amount of iniquity which tran- 
 scends the virtue of Christ's atoning sacrifice, or is be- 
 yond the reach of God's gracious invitation. The very 
 murderous treachery of Judas might have been par- 
 doned, nay would have been pardoned, on his faith and 
 repentance. If there is a sin in our day which is un- 
 pardonable, it is such, not because the blood of Christ 
 lacks efficacy, or because the promise of the gospel ex- 
 cludes it, but because such sin, by its very nature, re- 
 jects and despises the sacred blood and the gracious 
 promise. Every one that thirstetb, though all crimes 
 were accumulated and concentred on his head, may 
 approach and be made whole. There are moments of 
 
240 THE THIRSTY INVITED. 
 
 conviction, in which you might attempt to convince the 
 sufferer of any thing rather than that such sins as his 
 can be forgiven. He admits that others may be saved ; 
 but not himself. The Spirit of God, in foresight of 
 such cases, converted Saul of Tarsus, and has left on 
 record that golden passage, for all ages, which ends 
 thus, "I am chief." It is a doctrine most important 
 to be preached, and to be often reiterated, in the spirit 
 of the text, lest any rebel, however atrocious, should 
 fail to admit the glorious universality of the offer. 
 Some of the most signal trophies of grace, in which 
 sovereign power and love have shone in the brightest 
 colours, have been men whose crimes seemed to out- 
 rage heaven; but each of whom has learnt to cry 
 with David, "Pardon mine iniquity, because it is 
 great ! " 
 
 The offer of life ought therefore to be considered by 
 each individual hearer as addressed personally to him- 
 self. It is a counsel which applies to all divine com- 
 munications made in the house of God ; but pre-emi- 
 nently to this, which offers eternal good to all without 
 exception who will receive it to their bosoms. The day 
 and hour have come, in which, after such long delays, 
 you may find in Jesus a merciful Saviour. The provi- 
 dence which has brought you hither, and the influence 
 which has opened your ear to hearken, make the mes- 
 sage as truly your own, as if the voice of God in dis- 
 tinct articulation uttered your individual name from 
 heaven. Christ, with all his benefits, is yours, if, for- 
 
THE THIRSTY INVITED. 241 
 
 saking all things else, you accept him as offered in this 
 gospel. be persuaded to bow the stubborn neck, 
 and bring the long reluctant lips to these celestial 
 waters ! 
 
 And let me add a word to Christian believers, 
 whether newly converted or far advanced in pilgrimage. 
 To you also is the invitation given. This is not a weU in 
 the desert, of which you may only once taste and must 
 then leave forever, but a river of life, at which you may 
 perpetually slake your thirst. The Israehtes all drank 
 of that Spiritual Rock which followed them ; and that 
 Rock was Christ. The current from the smitten rock 
 pursued the journeyings of the camp. The unchanging 
 Redeemer in his fulness is always beside you and with- 
 in your reach. As ye have received the Lord Jesus, so 
 walk ye in him. Come buy wine and milk, without 
 money and without price. You may be already justi- 
 fied indeed ; but are there not a thousand wants within 
 you which crave supply? Has not your path been 
 through a wearisome land, and are you not sensible of 
 an inward thirst, which* nothing but spiritual refresh- 
 ment can assuage? You need daily purifying; you 
 need daily increase of knowledge ; you need strength 
 for the remaining journey, and healing for the fevered 
 wounds of your conflict. Behold the boundless provi- 
 sion, and hearken to the liberal summons. Approach 
 anew to Him who is the source of all your Hfe, and who 
 cries anew, " If any man thirst, let him come unto me 
 and drink.'4 
 16 
 
242 T^^ THIRSTY myiTED. 
 
 Blessed be God — ^the source to wHicli we are in- 
 vited is a familiar fountain. In regard at least to our 
 knowledge of it, it was the household-spring of our 
 childhood ; and it has been our cool resort from the 
 arid journeys of our mature years. And though we 
 have, days without number, forsaken the fountain of 
 living water, and hewed us out cisterns, which can hold 
 no water, yet are we not deeply convinced, beloved, 
 that there is none so full, none so heavenly, none so 
 free ! Many a time have we gone to it, all parched 
 with the ardours of our wearisome path, and found the 
 Diffaser of gracious refreshment ready to take us back 
 and satisfy us with his love. Again the sound of fall- 
 ing waters is in our ears. Prom the clefts of the sav- 
 ing Rock, the holy stream breaks forth in profusion. 
 " The Spirit and the Bride say, Come. And let him 
 that heareth say. Come. And whosoever will, let him 
 take the water of life freely." 
 
XI. 
 
 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 
 
THE 
 
 INWAKDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION * 
 
 LXTEE xi. 40. 
 
 "Did not he that made that which is without, make that which is 
 within also ? " 
 
 These words draw our attention to religion as 
 something inward and spiritual. In this they resemble 
 the rest of Christ's instructions, which were intended to 
 bring men to a service of mind and heart, rather than 
 of outward observance. The piety of the Pharisees was 
 altogether external. Hence they were shocked when 
 this new teacher disregarded all their forms. One of 
 their sect, who on this occasion was the host of Jesus, 
 wondered at his approaching the repast without the 
 prescribed rite of baptism. " And the Lord said unto 
 him. Now do ye Pharisees make clean the outside of 
 the cup and the platter ; but your inward part is full 
 ♦ New York, April 9, 1854. 
 
246^ ^™ INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 
 
 of ravening and wickedness. Ye fools, did not he that 
 made that which is without, make that which is within 
 also ? " That is, You forget that it is God with whom 
 you have to do ; God, who sees the heart ; God, who 
 created the spiritual part ; God, who is a Spirit, and 
 demands a spiritual worship. My single theme is. Re- 
 ligion AS AN INWARD WORK. 
 
 In attempting to exhibit the greatness of the work 
 within, I shall observe the following order: 1. The 
 value of single holy sentiments and emotions, especially 
 in their bearing on the eternal state. 2. The conse- 
 quent importance of the hidden life, made up of such 
 thoughts and exercises, and the greatness of the Spirit's 
 work in sustaining such hfe under the Gospel. 3. The 
 unspeakable grandeur of the regeneratiug act, as the 
 source of this Hfe, and these emotions. 
 
 I. God's scale of measurement is very different from 
 ours. He accounts that small which seems gigantic to 
 us ; and often esteems that great which we despise. 
 Instances might be brought from things tangible and 
 visible, though these are not to detain us. For exam- 
 ple, the structure of a violet or the wing of a fly is more 
 complex and wonderful than the steam-engine or the 
 telegraph. When we seek for grandeur, we generally 
 think of size or of multitude; being governed very 
 much by our own organs, or the petty objects around 
 us. Especially are we prone to err, when we compare 
 things material with things moral. The two belong not 
 so much to different classes as to different worlds. We 
 
THE INWAKDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 247 
 
 cannot measure a good man against a mountain or a 
 planet. We cannot adjust our balance and put a gen- 
 erous thought into one scale, and a thousand talents 
 into the other. I may add, we are perpetually making 
 this absurd attempt, and weighing spiritual realities in 
 our earthly balance. The evil cleaves to us, even when 
 we deHberately pass over into the domain of moral and 
 rehgious truth. In estimating the results of pious 
 endeavour, for instance, we are governed in a great de- 
 gree by the eclat of the triumph, the pubhcity of the 
 benefit, and the tabular show of statistical enumeration. 
 The day of final revelation may bring into focal light 
 and glory some objects which the world has not paused 
 to look at. A poor widow cast into the treasury-box 
 two mites, which make a farthing. The coin was base 
 and trifling, and the act apparently insignificant. But 
 the deed attracted the eye of infinite Wisdom, which 
 penetrated beyond the ring of the paltry pieces, beyond 
 the trembhng wrinkled hand which timidly let them 
 drop, behind the care-worn face of poverty and devo- 
 tion, to the inward sentiment in that widow's heart. 
 This it -was which gave value to the donation. This it 
 was which God regarded ; setting on it a value above aU 
 the costly munificence of the opulent, above all the splen- 
 dours of architecture in the temple, above all the glories 
 of Moriah and the holy city, nay — for all that we know 
 — above all the material excellencies of this great globe 
 itself. Yet this inward sentiment was invisible, impon- 
 derable, inappreciable. When visitors were once ad- 
 
248 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 
 
 miring the library of a great prelate, lie said, " One 
 thought of devotion outweighs them all." It was well 
 said, and in a spirit belonging to our subject ; but who 
 can bring forth the scales to verify the conclusion? 
 The holy thought is too ethereal to await our tests. It 
 may be evanescent, lasting but a moment ; yet there it 
 is ; it is known of God ; it is the product of his Spirit ; 
 it stands forever recorded with his approval. Let us 
 freely confess, that in our common estimates we mis- 
 judge with regard to the greatness of that which is 
 mental and moral, especially where it is accompanied 
 with no extension in time and space. "Perform the 
 duty of this single moment," said the eccentric but pi- 
 ous Lavater, "and thou hast done a good deed for all 
 eternity." One holy act, one heavenly thought, one 
 upward wish of an infant soul, may be precious in the 
 view of God. Our notion of greatness is different ; we 
 should say to a man. Go raise an army, subdue a king- 
 dom, build a pyramid. There is a sublimity in moral 
 rectitude, or conformity to the will of God, which we 
 are ill qualified to measure, in our present state, where 
 every thing is referred to physical laws. These laws, in 
 their grandest manifestations, as those of orbs moving 
 in harmonious silence through the astronomic spaces, 
 are only as lasting as perishable matter. The hour 
 may come when the attraction of gravitation shall no 
 longer be as the squares of the distances ; but the hour 
 shall never come, when faith, and love, and the image 
 of God shall not be infinitely excellent. 
 
THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 249 
 
 Does it not follow from this, that we are in danger 
 every moment of miderrating those operations and ex- 
 ercises which take place in the secrecy of the human 
 bosom ? Even when we make them objects of atten- 
 tion, which is seldom, we rate them by the visible re- 
 sults of the acts which they produce. But their moral 
 quality has a value, independent of all overt effects, a 
 quahty which confers on these effects all their excel- 
 lence. It is a solemn consideration, that the very emo- 
 tion which this moment is bubbhng to the surface of 
 our internal fountain, may have a world of importance, 
 may be intensely sinful or intensely holy. And on this 
 estimate, so much beyond our reach, may be founded 
 some of God's awful determinations respecting the acts 
 of creatures in this state of trial. Of one thing we may 
 be certain ; the infinitely holy and omniscient Judge 
 takes cognizance of what passes in human minds. He 
 cannot look with indifference on the thoughts, imagina- 
 tions, wishes, purposes, choices and habits of our souls. 
 Shghtly as we regard them, each has its moral estimate 
 in God's account. And this gives a serious importance 
 to inward things, which, if duly pondered, might modify 
 our whole view of life. Now it should be observed, that 
 all these rapid transactions of the immaterial nature 
 within us are absolutely hidden from the gaze of others. 
 Man looketh at the outward appearance. The subject 
 of these sentiments or emotions may be a recluse, the 
 tenant of a deserted isle. Nevertheless he is a soul, 
 spiritual and immortal, and there is that going on 
 
250 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 
 
 within him which may outstretch in its greatness the 
 boundaries of the vastest monarchies. Your Hues of 
 measurement by inches, leagues, or semidiameters of 
 orbits, cannot be appHed to spirit. That soul, on 
 God's scale, may be longer and wider and higher and 
 deeper than the whole material universe. Its acts and 
 fluctuations have a relation to God's law, to God's 
 image, and to immortahty. Hence the great work of 
 God is expended, not on the mundane fabric, which is 
 to perish, but on the soul, which is to last eternally. 
 
 To approach a juster valuing of inward things, pause 
 with me a moment or two on this last thought. Man 
 looks forward to an interminable existence. The con- 
 tinuity of his being is unbroken. His conscious iden- 
 tity is to suffer no rupture or suspension. We natu- 
 rally suppose that his knowledge will increase, and with 
 it his capacity of emotion. Now the grand truth of 
 our system is, that our immortal condition is to be fixed 
 here. Happy or miserable are we to be, according to 
 what we are in this world ; and happy or miserable in 
 degrees apportioned to our soul's state here. The 
 character, though not the amount of holiness, is settled 
 before death. The entire series of our experience below 
 is a preparation for what awaits us above. There is not 
 a purpose, a desire, or a state of mind, in this our pil- 
 grimage, which has not its bearing on the eternal career. 
 What importance does this confer on even the most 
 transient exercises of the soul ! Each is the seed which 
 embosoms in itself a fruitfulness of immortal joy or 
 
THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 251 
 
 woe. Let no man, then, think lightly of what is pass- 
 ing in those darkened chambers. Angels — ^if angels 
 see aught of hmnan hearts — ^hang. with unutterable in- 
 terest over the struggles of the spirit, as now it wrestles 
 with a strong temptation, and now emerges into light 
 and love. Man beholds it not, save by some faint infre- 
 quent indications ; but all these workings are naked to 
 the eye of God. 
 
 II. The importance of the inward life, made up of 
 such thoughts and exercises, is obvious. Reflection 
 on so much as has been offered, will lead us to recon- 
 sider some of our hasty judgments as to the importance 
 of that invisible work which is going on behind the 
 curtains of every undying soul. To the gifted eye there 
 is revealed a battlefield, over which principahties and 
 powers hover, with a wistful interest, and in comparison 
 with which the conflicts of a Pharsalia or a Waterloo — 
 if we leave out the consideration that each combatant 
 is, after all, an immortal creature — must dwindle to a 
 mere contest of insects. In a sense higher than they 
 ever dreamed themselves, is the saying of the ancients 
 true, that the soul is a microcosm, a httle world. It has 
 its periods, its convulsions, its wars, its deluges, its 
 revolutions and its conflagrations. To each of us, in- 
 dividually, it is more than the universe itself, being his 
 aU ; and this it is, silently, secretly, and without respect 
 to other creatures. Each soul has that to transact, in 
 God's sight and with God, which throws into the rank 
 of things indifferent the shock of nature and the crash 
 
252 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 
 
 of worlds. The eternity beyond is made to depend on 
 the character this side of death, as holy, or the reverse. 
 Who can refrain from reiterating the exclamation of our 
 Lord, " What shall it profit a man if he gain the whole 
 world and lose his own soul ? " • 
 
 A reigning error among all those who profess Chris- 
 tianity, is, that we care more for that which is without, 
 than that which is within. And even when we seem to 
 seek inward reformation, we begin too frequently with 
 the stream instead of the fountain, the external rather 
 than the internal. It is a great moment in any Chris- 
 tian's life, when he awakes to the conviction, that of all 
 the works he has to perform, the greatest is within his 
 own breast. Even if it had no fruit outwardly, this 
 culture would be momentous in regard to eternity ; but 
 indeed it is the very germ of all fruitfulness. *' Keep 
 thy heart with all diQigence," etc. Miaisters and peo- 
 ple may give themselves too exclusively to visible activ- 
 ity, and then the lamentation is in place, " They made 
 me keeper of the vineyards, but mine own vineyard 
 have I not kept." This arises from low thoughts of 
 the work of God within the soul. " Did not he that 
 made that which is without, make that which is within 
 also ? " Nay, did he not rather make that which is 
 within? Is it not this, on which his eye is chiefly 
 fixed ? The humblest thoughts of ourselves are consist- 
 ent with a profound reverence for the spiritual influence 
 in our bosoms. It is a great and awful fact, that the 
 Holy Spirit inhabits the behever. " What ? know ye 
 
THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 253 
 
 not that your body is tlie temple of the Holy Ghost ? " 
 If this internal work be neglected, poverty will come 
 upon all our Christian life. The noise and bustling vanity 
 of the age tend directly toward such disregard. It must 
 be opposed by renewed dihgence in cultivating deep, 
 inward, spiritual rehgion. We must not measure our 
 attainments in piety, by palpable usefulness, or the stir 
 of beneficent action, however much this is our duty. 
 The grand afiair of life is the building up of the spir- 
 itual temple. We may disparage the power that is 
 operating within. It is the common mistake of retired 
 and suffering Christians. Because they are not called 
 to pubHc manifestations, they think there is no advance- 
 ment. But knowledge may be rising in a compact and 
 soHd structure. Faith may be diffusing its mighty in- 
 fluence on every side. Holy devotion may be sending 
 up clouds of incense, acceptable to God. Intercessory 
 prayer may be stretching its arms of love, to take in all 
 the brotherhood of Christ and aU the family of man. 
 Appetite and passion may be dying, by repeated blows. 
 Purity, like that of Jesus, may be arising as a picture 
 on the soul's tablet, dim perhaps, but brightening. Pa- 
 tience may be approaching to its perfect work. Sub- 
 mission to God's chastising hand may be gaining 
 strength in the furnace. The world may be waning, 
 and the attraction of heaven waxing more luminous. 
 Joy in the Lord may be like the " fragrance of a field 
 which God hatn blessed. And gentle humility, the or- 
 nament and preservative of all graces, may be growing 
 
254 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 
 
 more constant. Is all this nothing ? Is it not the very- 
 process to which our Master calls us ? It is he that 
 maketh that which is within. Such reflections are 
 needful for many a sohtary behever, who sighs to think 
 that no opportunity is given for great deeds in God's 
 behalf. " They also serve, who only stand and wait." 
 There is growth in the world of vegetable nature, not 
 only during sunshine, but in the night. There may be 
 progress, even where there is no joy. The roots may 
 be striking downwards into the soil, and the vital 
 juices of the stock may be maturing, while the late col- 
 oured flowers are folded in pensive weakness and weep- 
 ing with night-dews. Inward, inward must we go, for 
 the true elaboration of gracious virtues. Let this be 
 strongly impressed on those whose circle is bounded by 
 the walls of a narrow home. Let the poor mother, 
 whose dependant charge binds her aU day long to the 
 humblest domestic service ; let the widow, who cher- 
 ishes her faith amidst complete insulation ; let the be- 
 reaved lonely one, whom the world has dropped from 
 its catalogue ; let the invalid, who is cut off from all 
 social labour ; let the aged, who wonders why a useless 
 life is lengthened out, know and beheve, that to them 
 also it is granted to glorify God as truly as to the king 
 or the apostle. Let them cease to measure the work 
 of grace by the external standards of a human activity. 
 Did not he that made that which is without make that 
 which is within also ? 
 
 The same reasoning may be applied to another class 
 
THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 255 
 
 of instances, about which there is frequent misappre- 
 hension in the churches and even in the minds of the 
 ministry. We too much measure the work of God 
 among men by the single criterion of the number of 
 souls converted. This, it need scarcely be said, is a 
 glorious work. But the Spirit of God has other opera- 
 tions besides the conversion of sinners. It is not for 
 us to bring the two into comparison. Of the influences 
 of the Spirit mentioned in Scripture, the great majority 
 concern the inward work on souls already renewed. 
 The apostoHcal writings are almost exclusively address- 
 ed to those who are called saints. Sheep must not only 
 be gathered into the fold, but led to pasture. We 
 might, by carrying out the false view now censured, 
 lay thousands of foundations, without rearing any edi- 
 fice. Or rather, we might seek to lay them ; for it is 
 ordinarily found, that where gracious experience in be- 
 lievers becomes shallow, there are few conversions. 
 Now the truth to be considered is, that in every renew- 
 ed soul, God is carrying forward an invisible work, 
 more important than the administration of a kingdom. 
 How the apostle Paul yearned for the advancement of 
 this, in churches and individuals I How he laboured 
 and prayed for it ! I find nothing similar, in the expe- 
 rience of brethren, or my own. " I would,'' says he to 
 the Colossians, " that ye knew what great conflict I 
 have for you, and for them at Laodicea, and for as many 
 as have not seen my face in the flesh ; that their hearts 
 might be comforted, being knit together in love, and 
 
256 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 
 
 unto the full assurance of understanding, to the ac- 
 knowledgment of the mystery of God, and of the 
 Father, and of Christ." 
 
 A wise Christian will watch for the blooming of a 
 single grace in the garden of the Lord, with as real an 
 expectation, (but O how much loftier !) as that with 
 which the tasteful maiden looks for the opening of some 
 cherished flower in her conservatory. A single grace, 
 that buds and blows, comes from God, and is a thing of 
 beauty in the esteem of Christ, purchased by his sor- 
 rows, and part of his immortal wreath. With what in- 
 tense anxiety will the devoted florist attend the opening 
 of some rare and extraordinary flower, as of the Victo- 
 ria Regina, or the Night-blooming Cereus ! Let us 
 not be less awakened when a Christian soul bursts 
 forth into the manifestation of faith, hope or charity. A 
 behever, we will suppose, long infected by an unrelenting 
 malice, at length 'comes to the point of exercising a free 
 and full forgiveness of the offender, even as God for 
 Christ's sake forgave him. It is an inward work ; but 
 how lovely in the sight of heaven ! What an epoch 
 does it mark in the soul's history ! Call not those la- 
 bours unfruitful, which are blessed to one such result. 
 Or a formal, worldly, lingering disciple, is brought at 
 length to an entire and absolute dedication to God of 
 all the heart so long withheld. Or, some mountain of 
 avarice is heaved off"; and the believer henceforth holds 
 his possessions as a steward for Christ. Or, a suffbrer 
 is made to give up his own will, and bow with loving 
 
THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 257 
 
 resignation to the will of God. Or, hope suddenly be- 
 comes assurance, and the fear of death is taken away. 
 These are God's daily works in the church, and we' 
 offend against Sovereign grace if we despise them. 
 Because they are inward, they can be detailed in no re- 
 port of successes ; but they are not the less to the praise 
 of almighty love. When such flowers are blooming in 
 the garden of the Lord, we must not complain that all is 
 winter, or speak as we hastily do, of the absence of the 
 Spirit. 
 
 ILL But lest any should misunderstand me, I now 
 acknowledge, that the greatest of God's inward works 
 is the work of Regeneration. It is this which is the root 
 of all subsequent growth. To this our Lord remands 
 the Pharisees instead of all cleansing of the " outside of 
 the cup and the platter," saying, " Make the tree good." 
 No change from better to better can be compared mth 
 the change from darkness to light. No point in the 
 history of a soul has such importance as its new birth. 
 At this moment only it begins to Hve, in a spiritual 
 sense. The very transition into heaven is not so criti- 
 cal ; for this is but the continuance of a life already be- 
 gun. There is joy in the presence of the angels of 
 God, at every such transformation. We may talk of 
 great junctures in human life ; but it were trifling to 
 compare any of them with the translation from being an 
 heir of wrath to being a member of Christ. AU dis- 
 tinctions of rank disappear when such a boon as this is 
 conferred. It is to be feared that few kings are made 
 17 
 
258 THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 
 
 children of God ; but suppose such a case. Let him 
 be the greatest monarch on earth, and at the most high 
 and palmy state of dominion and glory. Yet the day 
 and the hour in which he is called to newness of Hfe, he 
 is exalted beyond all the pomp of earth. Or take the 
 case of some Lazarus of the street, ulcerous and forlorn. 
 The Spirit of God touches him, and straightway he is 
 richer than all the thousands in purple and fine linen. 
 God has wrought on him the great inward work. 
 When some infant soul is savingly affected by regener- 
 ating grace, it is more glorious than the creation of a 
 new world. The same is true of the veriest slave, the 
 Hottentot, Caffre or Cannibal, who is made a new crea- 
 ture. Is it so then, that we are Hving in a world (the 
 only one) where such wonders of regenerating power 
 are transacted every day ? Have we on every hand 
 those who are still ignorant of this mighty operation ? 
 Is there in our possession the instrumentality by which 
 God is pleased to bring the dead to Hfe? And is our 
 period for applying it, and seeking the salvation of men, 
 exceedingly short ? Then, brethren, it is high time for 
 us to start from our stupor, and begin to long and la- 
 bour for the renewal of the sinner. I have not under- 
 valued other modes of usefulness ; but unless this is 
 gained, aU is lost ! To be the means in God's hand of 
 converting a sinner from the error of his way, is the 
 greatest honour of which we have any knowledge. 
 Most of us would rejoice to save the life of a fellow- 
 
THE mWAKDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. £59 
 
 creature ; what ought we not readily do or sacrifice to 
 rescue an immortal soul ! 
 
 How far have we advanced in our proposed inquiry ? 
 We have seen, first, the value of single graces, in an im- 
 mortal soul ; next, the value of an inward Hfe, compre- 
 hensive of these graces; and lastly, the momentous 
 greatness of regeneration, which confers and establishes 
 this life. Such is ReHgion, as an inward work. 
 
 Tlie whole current of reflections tends naturally to- 
 wards an apphcation to ourselves. The Lord our Sov- 
 ereign is the creator of the inner as well as the outer 
 man. He demands the homage and service of the spir- 
 itual part. On this his glance of scrutiny is imchange- 
 ably fixed. In this he finds the subject of his greatest 
 transformations and triumphs. There must be change 
 here, within, or all is ruin for eternity. How vain the 
 attempt to satisfy his righteous claim, by the tender of 
 an external comphance ! Yet this is the attempt which 
 besotted men are perpetually repeating. The particular 
 mode of observance may vary with age and country, but 
 the rehance is still on something which is not the heart. 
 It may be the cleansing the outside of the cup and the 
 platter ; or the paying of tithes, ablutions, ceremonial 
 sanctity. It may be alms, the repetition of prayers, the 
 attendance on rites and forms. It may go further, and 
 be the profession of the true religion, and the rendering 
 of an unblemished outward morahty. Yet in aU this the 
 principal thing is unprovided. Nothing has yet reach- 
 ed " the hidden man of the heart." There has been no 
 
260 THE INWARD]S[ESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 
 
 work of God upon the secret motive principle. The na- 
 ture is unchanged. All is unregenerate. How can we 
 speak and hear these things, without sending forth the 
 anxious inquiry, " Have we experienced this transfor- 
 mation ? " What avails our external activity or our high 
 profession, if the heart remains untouched ? One may 
 be pure before men, and yet may hear Christ saying to 
 him, " Your inward part is full of ravening and wicked- 
 ness." Outward obedience is invaluable, when it is the 
 fruit of a holy heart ; but all the teaching of our Lord 
 shows that the work must begin within. Obedience is 
 the child of Love. Prophecy, alms and martyrdom are 
 nothing without this inward principle. '* Though I be- 
 stow all my goods to feed the poor, and though I give 
 my body to be burned, and have not charity, it profit- 
 eth me nothing." Has there been a change within ? 
 Does it reveal itself by new views, tempers, desires, 
 joys and acts ? Ah, beloved brethren, how much bet- 
 ter are most of us outwardly than inwardly ! How 
 much higher is the esteem of others for us, than our 
 judgment of ourselves ! And yet we know ourselves 
 but in part. If all those points of our external beha- 
 viour could be abstracted, which are produced by a 
 reference to human opinion ; by a fear of losing repu- 
 tation as Christians ; by regard for consistency of char- 
 acter ; by vanity ; by custom ; by fear ; by shame ; 
 how much would remain of genuine vitality, of regard 
 for God's law, of holy operative love? If nothing, 
 then are We but as whited sepulchres ; and the great 
 
THE INWARDNESS OF TRUE RELIGION. 261 
 
 hidden work has yet to be begun. No perfection of 
 exterior service can make up for a want of the Hfe of 
 God in the soul. The reformation of things outward, 
 and the performance of good acts, unless from a prin- 
 ciple of regard to God, are only Hke hanging fruits on 
 the branches of a sapless tree, dead to the very root. 
 So Christ taught. So the gospel everywhere affirms. 
 Except a man be bom again, he cannot see the King- 
 dom of God. If those who hear me, in conscious im- 
 penitence, would but lay this to their hearts, it would 
 have an awakening power. The medicine is very bit- 
 ter ; but it is for your lives. The process of return to 
 God is humbling and paiafol, and involves many des- 
 pairing thoughts of your own condition. For this rea- 
 son, multitudes are deterred. But is it not better to 
 come to this reckoning in time, than in eternity ? A 
 great step is taken, when the soul is convinced that 
 there really is such a thing as inward renovation, and 
 that this has yet to be experienced. Shrink not from 
 the revelation of yourself to yourself. Use no profane 
 forces, to drive away the impression which half awakens 
 you to say, " I will arise and go to my Father ! " That 
 whispered suggestion is from above. Such stirrings are 
 sometimes the heavings of lungs to receive the first 
 vital breath. God grant you this inward work of al- 
 mighty power ! 
 
XII. 
 
 NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED 
 
NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED * 
 
 Acts xi. 23. 
 
 And exhorted them all, that with purpose of heart they would cleaye 
 unto the Lord." 
 
 After the addition of new converts to the Church, 
 the matter of next importance is that they should abide 
 steadfast and go on improving. It is not enough that 
 they should sit down at the Lord's Table, nor even that 
 they should be truly renewed. Christian love will fur- 
 ther desire that they should adorn their profession, and 
 go on to form a character of Christian strength and 
 lustre. The New Testament abounds in proofs that 
 this was the wish and aim of early teachers and breth- 
 ren. As apostles and evangelists went from land to 
 land, it was unavoidable that they should often leave 
 groups of inexperienced behevers, perhaps reeking with 
 
 * New York, May 16, 1858. 
 
266 • NE^ DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 
 
 the associations of Gentilism. To prevent the perver- 
 sion or vexation of such, was a principal intention of 
 apostolic epistles and visitations. Tor example, at An- 
 tioch, one of the earliest centres of missionary diffusion, 
 where the disciples were first called Christians, some 
 of the brethren, scattered by the persecution in Judea, 
 had been very successful in preaching the Lord 
 Jesus. V. 20 : " The hand of the Lord was with them, 
 and a great number beheved, and turned unto the 
 Lord." These are the ancient and authorized terms ; 
 of which we need not be shy ; they ' beheved,' they 
 ' turned unto the Lord ;' that is, to the Lord Jesus. 
 Tidings of such conversions are always welcome to the 
 Saints. News came to the Church which was in Jeru- 
 salem, who deputed Barnabas, often named afterwards, 
 in connexion with Paul, to visit the new believers of 
 Antioch. "Who, when he came, and had seen the 
 grace of God, was glad, and exhorted them all, that 
 with purpose of heart they would cleave unto the 
 Lord." Such then is the primitive strain of advice to 
 new converts ; and it is as pregnant and pertinent now 
 as it was then. But it contains some pecuharities of 
 expression, upon which much depends. Who is meant 
 by the Lord, to whom the numerous converts were ex- 
 horted to cleave ? For those who have carefully studied 
 New Testament usage, the question can have but one 
 answer. The Lord Jesus Christ, mentioned just be- 
 fore, V. 20, as having been preached to them, and to 
 whom they " turned," v. 21, is undoubtedly he to whom 
 
NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 
 
 267 
 
 they were to cleave. Sucli is the force of the name 
 Lord, when used absolutely. Here there is the addi- 
 tional reason, that the Redeemer, as Jesus, is expressly 
 named in the context. So, v. 24, when " much people 
 was added unto the Lord," we readily understand, that 
 as converts they gave themselves to Jesus Christ, and 
 enlisted under his banner. And there is special ten- 
 derness in this view, which regards entrance on a reH- 
 gious life as coming into immediate connexion with the 
 beloved Son of God and Saviour of sinners. 
 
 But what is meant, when converts are exhorted to 
 cleave unto the Lord Jesus ? The word is significant ; 
 to cleave is to clin^j to adhere, to stick fast ; and where 
 the blessed Redeemer is the object, it is to remain in 
 close and permanent connexion with him, so as not only 
 to be constant and persevering, but in perpetual fruit- 
 bearing progress. The unfolding of this, however, is 
 now to be our topic, in a series of brief particulars. 
 
 The grand affair of life, to be held before new con- 
 verts, is that they cleave unto the Lord. This is so to 
 be pressed upon their minds, as that they shall set about 
 it with what the text calls " purpose of heart." It is 
 something that asks the will. The duty enjoined is 
 the result of foresight and deliberate purpose ; not one 
 of those things which we fall into, or are overtaken by ; 
 not a matter of indolent acquiescence or passive resig- 
 nation ; but what we arrive at by bent of soul, plenary 
 choice, and a decision which disregards all risks. The 
 one thing which the right-minded convert lays before 
 
268 NEW DISCIPES ADMONISHED. 
 
 him as indispensable, and seeks to compass by every 
 effort, is to cling fast to Jesus. This the term imports. 
 And, unquestionably, the direction imphes that the 
 persons thus exhorted are already near to Christ, nay, 
 joined to him. How absurd were it, to ask one to 
 abide where he is not. These people of Antioch were 
 already " turned," and " added " to the Lord. There 
 they were ; and there — so Barnabas desired and plead- 
 ed — they were to abide. By which we are reminded 
 of our Lord's so frequent use of a term, radically the 
 same in Greek, though different in English ; as when he 
 says, " Abide in me, and I in you "- — " if ye abide in me, 
 and my words abide in you " — " if a man abide not in 
 me, he is cast forth," a withered vinebranch. These 
 are suggestive of many useful thoughts to newly awak- 
 ened persons, for whose sake we must now notice 
 several senses in which they must abide in Jesus, or 
 cleave and chng to him. The attention of those who 
 lately, or within a few months, have acknowledged 
 Christ before men, is particularly invited to these expo- 
 sitions of the duty, which above aU others now concerns 
 them. What is included then in their cleaving unto 
 the Lord ? 
 
 I. To cleave or cling fast unto the Lord Jesus, is 
 
 TO ADHERE TO THE CHRISTIAN RELIGION. The Cvil to 
 
 which this stands opposed is apostasy, or drawing back 
 unto perdition. The guilt and ruin of this were incur- 
 red by many even during our Lord's personal ministry. 
 They turned back and walked no more with him. Of 
 
NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 269 
 
 many the apostles had to say, " They went out from 
 us, but they were not of us." Salutary fear of so tre- 
 mendous a folly, sin and destruction, is often a means 
 of preventing it. To cleave to the Lord is the purpose, 
 and should be the endeavour, of every Christian disci- 
 ple, however tempted to go back. The pilgrim meets 
 many on their return. Even if these deserters never 
 abandon the communion, they turn back in their hearts 
 unto Egypt. After the solemnities accompanying their 
 confession of Christ, they give up all signs of evangeh- 
 cal piety, and Hve just as they did before ; usually to 
 go greater lengths still, from having done so horrid a 
 violence to their moral sense. But it is the full pur- 
 pose of a sincere believer, however weak, that he will 
 never abandon his Lord. All unite in Peter's cry, 
 " Lord, to whom shall we go ? thou hast the words of 
 eternal life." 
 
 11. To cleave unto the Lord, is to adhere to him 
 
 AS THE REVEALER OF TRUTH. TMs stauds OppOSCd to 
 
 all departures into heresy and error. To abide in Christ, 
 is to abide in his words. The danger of the contrary is 
 great, and is increased when the endangered person is 
 wise in his own conceit, and thinks his own powers 
 sufficient for his protection. Early times saw such, 
 predicted of old as "heady, highminded,'' "men of 
 corrupt minds, reprobate concerning the faith." 2 Tim. 
 iii. Some, in Paul's day, "having swerved," had 
 "turned aside unto vain jangling; desiring to be 
 teachers of the law ; understanding neither what they 
 
270 ^^^ DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 
 
 say, nor whereof they affirm." 1 Tim. i. 6. And the 
 same apostle foretells a day, when men " will not en- 
 dure sound doctrine — shall turn away their ears from 
 the truth, and shall be turned unto fables." 2 Tim. iv. 3. 
 These are sufficient warnings to make us cleave unto 
 the Lord, as the fountain of the truth which we have 
 believed. Let the young professor beware of that 
 which is mentioned as characteristically the sin of the 
 novice ; viz., the being puffed up with pride, the con- 
 demnation of the devil. 1 Tim. iii. 6. Let him sus- 
 pect the zealous vender of a religious nostrum, which 
 shall give him in some compendious way a peace 
 not warranted by common Christian experience. Let 
 him remember, that the new convert, whose appetite 
 often surpasses his power of discernment, is singularly 
 hable to be duped by error. Let him humbly decHne 
 the office of teaching that which he has scarcely learnt. 
 Let him be " swift to hear, slow to speak." Thus, 
 as new-bom babes desiring " the sincere milk of the 
 Word," that they may grow thereby, young Christians 
 shall acquire solid strength and confirmation. In or- 
 der to all this, the only security is to abide in Christ, 
 as the Prophet of his people, clinging to him for in- 
 struction, and waiting at the posts of his doors, as the 
 primeval Wisdom ; the Way, the Truth, and the Life ; 
 the Sun of righteousness ; the true Light, which hght- 
 eth every man that cometh into the world. Thus, with 
 fatherly affection, speaks the apostle John : " And now, 
 little children, abide in him ; that when ye shall ap- 
 
NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 271 
 
 pear, we may have confidence, and not be ashamed be- 
 fore him at his coming/' 
 
 III. To cleave unto the Lord Jesus is to make him 
 
 THE OBJECT OF OUR CONSTANT FAITH. This is the op- 
 posite of a most easy and dangerous habit, namely, un- 
 belief. Such clinging of the soul to Christ regards 
 him as our Atoning Priest. If we ever came to him, 
 we came thus reposing on him for righteousness and 
 salvation ; if we cleave to him, stay by him, embrace 
 him, hang upon him, and never let him go, it will be 
 by constantly reiterated acts of the same faith. AU 
 strength and joy rest upon this foundation ; all fruit of 
 praise and love grows out of this root. " As ye have 
 therefore received Christ Jesus the Lord, so walk ye in 
 him, rooted and bmlt up in him, and stablished in the 
 faith, as ye have been taught, abounding therein with 
 thanksgiving." As preventive of the evils already 
 mentioned, there is no such power in anything as in 
 faith. As it apprehended Christ first, so it holds him 
 fast. Not more fitly does the babe lie in the mother's 
 arms, than the young behever is recumbent amidst the 
 pardoning mercies and loving kindnesses of the atoning 
 Lord. Though aged in the world's computation, he 
 may be only a child in experience. Therefore he clings 
 , to his strength. If accepted, it is in the Beloved ; if 
 pardoned, it is as ungodly. Could his soul by possi- 
 bility be for one instant severed from his Surety, he 
 would be as unprotected as ever ; hot thunderbolts of 
 justice would find him out. His only safety is in being 
 
272 ^^^ DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 
 
 covered and sliielded by the blood of expiation ; and 
 this is over him just so long as he is " in Christ." The 
 emphatic preposition in imports not merely adherence, 
 but union ; and this union is set forth by diversities in 
 language, for human speech labours with the unaccus- 
 tomed thought. Turn again to John xv. 4, " Abide in 
 me, and I in you," " He that abideth in me, and I in 
 Jiim, the same bringeth forth much fruit ; for toitJiout 
 me ye can do nothing." 
 
 All other advices to new converts are less important 
 than this, of looking constantly to the Cross of Jesus 
 Christ. When you cease to do this, it will be a breach 
 of continuity between the vine and the branch ; the 
 vital sap will flow interruptedly ; and the vivid green 
 will give place to dryness and decay. So long as you 
 hate the remains of sin, and truly repent of them ; so 
 long as you feel shame and grief for the transgressions 
 of former days ; so long as you are disheartened with 
 daily failures ; so long as conscience challenges you for 
 corruptions, you will be constrained to cleave unto the 
 Lord, and to live under the baptism of his cross ; that, 
 with Paul, you " may be found in Him," " not having 
 your own righteousness, which is of the law, but that 
 which is through the faith of Jesus Christ, even the 
 righteousness which is of God by faith." 
 
 IV. To cleave unto the Lord, no man can deny, is 
 
 TO ABIDE BY HIS COMMANDMENTS, OWuiug him aS OUT 
 
 Ruler. Messiah is a King. This he avowed to Pilate. 
 In this character he is received by every repentant soul. 
 
NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 273 
 
 Every rebel who lays down his arms, approaches the 
 throne of Jesus and does him homage. New converts 
 to any rehgion follow a leader, and are named after a 
 head. To cHng to him and yield to his will, follows as 
 a matter of course. Entering on a Christian career is 
 not a mere change of opinion, school or party, but the 
 beginning of a new life. Every one understands it to 
 imply a new path of conduct. What Christ our Lord 
 demands, comes before us sometimes in the shape of 
 positive act, and sometimes in the shape of forbearance 
 or abstinence. Either way, we own his government, 
 obey his will, and receive law at his hands. Either 
 way, we adhere to him as our Lord. The hfe indicated 
 by these demands includes the highest morality; so 
 that it is a solecism to speak of an immoral Christian. 
 Why should we cite chapter and verse ? The entire 
 New Testament, from the Sermon on the Mount to the 
 denunciations at the close of the Apocalypse, bears on 
 its face the prohibition of every sin, in Christ's follower. 
 Inward, secret, spiritual sins are probed for and ex- 
 tracted to the hght by the ethics of the Gospel. The 
 conversion which does not, in some good degree, con- 
 vert a man from his sins, is spurious. Abiding in 
 Christ is abiding in his service, walking in his will, do- 
 ing that which shall please him, and Hving to his glory. 
 And this derives new force from the consideration, that 
 holiness, whether of heart or conduct — ^in other words, 
 cleaving to the Lord in duty — can by no means be 
 secured, except by cleaving to him in acts of personal 
 18 
 
274 NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 
 
 faith and affection. But this leads ns to another point, 
 which may indeed be considered the very same under a 
 new aspect. 
 
 V. To cleave and cling to the Lord Jesus, is to 
 FOLLOW HIS EXAMPLE. To cvcry couvcrt he says, as 
 to those beside the lake of Gennesaret, " Follow me ! " 
 This is more than obedience ; it is imitation ; it is do- 
 ing not only what the Master commanded, but what he 
 did himself. We walk in his very footsteps, as closely 
 as we know ; that is, we cleave to him. It is as though 
 we took hold of his skirts, amidst the crowd of conflict- 
 ing tempters ; determined not to lose sight of him, but 
 to keep him always in our presence. The instances 
 are too numerous for detail ; let us attend to two leading 
 cases. 1. The Lord went about doing good. Sincere 
 disciples follow him in this. Remembering what he 
 said about the twelve hours of the day, and the night 
 which Cometh, they are on the alert. " I must work 
 the work of him that sent me, while it is day," is both 
 his language and theirs. Active beginnings are useful, 
 and none can begin too soon. Of most it may be said, 
 what they are during their first months of profession, 
 they will be through life. Selfish pleasure, in the com- 
 forts of experience and ordinances, may fix the soul in a 
 habit of religious inactivity. Duties which do not ter- 
 minate on ourselves, are not easily remembered by the 
 narrow-minded. Hence the adage should make our 
 ears tingle : "To do good and to communicate, forget 
 not, for with such sacrifices God is well pleased." 
 
NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 275 
 
 There is no stimulus to labour, like the example of 
 Christ. 2. The Lord bore his Cross. Sincere con- 
 verts come near him, and cleave to him in suffering. 
 " And whosoever," said his own blessed lips, " doth not 
 bear his cross and come after me, cannot be my dis- 
 ciple." We are not to make our own cross ; that were 
 superstition or presumption ; but we are to bear Christ's 
 cross. Learn to expect it. Try your shoulders before- 
 hand. Count the cost. Ask yourself concerning the 
 cup which he drank, and the baptism which he was 
 baptized with. Many a convert runs well, for a while ; 
 but the cross afiPrights him. He that receives the word 
 into stony places " heareth it, and anon with joy re- 
 ceiveth it." You expect great perseverance from such 
 warmth. Yet what follows ? " He hath not root in 
 himself, but dureth for a while ; for when tribulation or 
 persecution ariseth, because of the Word, ' ah ! ' by and 
 by he is offended," he stumbles, he falls, he is left be- 
 hind. Many a summer-bird which kept on the wing 
 and caroUed gaily during the May season of revival and 
 sacraments, flees away at the first approach of storms. 
 We must make up our account to cleave to Jesus, 
 through good report and evil report. And in every 
 other duty we are to walk as he also walked. 
 
 VI. To cleave to Christ is to abide by him, as the 
 
 FOUNTAIN OP GRACE AND GIVER OF THE SPIRIT. At 
 
 regeneration the once alienated, severed, depraved soul 
 is touched by the Holy Spirit, who employs truth or 
 light as his instrument. At this instant of illumina- 
 
276 N^^ DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 
 
 tion, the rescued being is brought into connexion with 
 Christ as the Head. At this engrafting into Christ, the 
 vitahty of the Head becomes the vitaHty of the mem- 
 ber. Or, better to preserve the harmony of our figure, 
 the Hfe of the vine is the Hfe of the branch ; all from 
 spiritual union. To maintain this union, is to cleave 
 unto the Lord. As the convert has been brought to 
 Christ Jesus, so he is to chng to him. The analogy of 
 the Vine, John xv., is explanatory of this : " As the 
 branch," says our Lord, "cannot bear fruit of itself, 
 except it abide in the vine, no more can ye except ye 
 abide in me." " As the Father hath loved me, so have 
 I loved you; abide [continue] in my love,'' that is, 
 * cleave to me ; cling to me ; hold fast to my love.' 
 
 A consciousness of weakness belongs to the most 
 thorough converts. HumiUty is a sign of conversion. 
 Not a desponding, but a trustful humility ; because the 
 child of God rests in Jesus, as his strength; and hears 
 the whisper, " My grace is sufficient for thee." 
 
 Prayer in secret is the chief means of clinging to 
 Cln-ist in this sense. In closet devotion, unless it be 
 formal, scanty, or hurried, the young Christian comes 
 to the feet of the Lord, touches the hem of his garment, 
 and gazes into the eyes which beam vrith love, even if 
 he does not lean upon his bosom. Cleaving to Jesus, 
 he has communion with him, in regard to all his offices, 
 excellencies, and divine graces. Using the word prayer 
 to comprise all devotional contemplations and ascrip- 
 tions as well as beseechings, it is the very cleaving of the 
 
NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 2Y7 
 
 loving soul to our Saviour ;* and is the capital means of 
 growth in grace. " Praying will make us leave off sin- 
 ning, or sinning will make us leave off praying," Such 
 converse with God, especially over the inspired volume, 
 secures against defection and error, procures pardons, 
 sprinMing of the expiatory blood, and the Spirit of 
 adoption ; mortifies secret, lurking, insidious sins, quick- 
 ens the pulse of zeal and the pace of service ; arms for 
 battle, lifts the* courage, and sweetens the cross. Thus 
 may the new disciple advance day by day, looking 
 unto Jesus, the Author and Finisher of his faith ; cleav- 
 ing unto Jesus, the vital heart, from whom all the cir- 
 culation of holy thought, feehng, choice and act derives 
 its impulse. 
 
 VII. Finally — ^To cleave unto the Lord, is to cling 
 to him AS OUR portion and happiness. No one is 
 converted to a naked sense of duty, allowance of obHga- 
 tion, wHUngness to suffer, or purpose to do right. All 
 these grow out of discipleship, but they are its acid 
 fruits ; riper, mellower experiences load the branches on 
 the sunny side. Faith looks to Jesus, recognises his 
 divine triumphant loveliness,- yields to his invincible 
 charms, and sinks with dehght into the arms of his in- 
 finite affection. Abide there, O young disciple, O re-* 
 cent behever ; cleave to that bosom ; hang upon that 
 arm. Let Jesus be not only thy Saviour, but thy 
 bliss. Let thy soul's utterance be: "I charge you, 
 O ye daughters of Jerusalem, by the roes and by the 
 hinds of the field, that ye stir not up nor awake my love 
 
27g NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 
 
 till He please ! '' That so high an enjoyment of Christ's 
 presence should be uninterrupted, or even very frequent, 
 is perhaps more than we ought to expect in the present 
 mingled state, where shower and sunshine checker our 
 April-day. But if you have not attained to knowledge 
 of any such preciousness in Christ, ah ! there are yet 
 before you chambers opening into your porch of early 
 profession, all replete with joys. If you mean to perse- 
 vere in a cold, staid routine, of heartless, joyless, tear- 
 less religion, it is not hard to predict that you will swell 
 the ranks of those professors who speak loudly and give 
 largely, while they betray the absence of all genuine joy 
 in the Lord, by rushing with avidity into the covetous- 
 ness, the ostentation, or the frivolous amusements of 
 the world. Christ and his joy need no eking out by 
 the pleasures of sin and folly. God grant that those 
 who have lately sat down at the Lord's table, may be 
 from the beginning accustomed to hang upon the Mas- 
 ter for their soul's gratification. It is when they go 
 away from him that Satan seizes them and wins them 
 to his snare. " If any man love the world, the love of 
 the Father is not in him." Cleaving to Christ is re- 
 nouncing the world, as our happiness. " These things," 
 said our Lord, about to die, " have I spoken unto you, 
 that my joy might remain in you, and that your joy 
 might be full," xv. 11. Remark how fulness of joy is 
 found in union with Christ. 
 
 This bliss of cleaving to the Lord, in a beUeving 
 connexion, may be shared by many ; and the disciple 
 
NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 279 
 
 cannot but feel the warm contact of a loving tlirong 
 pressing with him, shoulder to shoulder, towards the 
 heart of Jesus. Such was the tenor of his prayer, 
 xvii. 22 : " And the glory which thou gavest me have 
 I given them : that they may be one, even as we are 
 one, / in them and thou in me, that they may be made 
 perfect in one." Look around, then, upon those who 
 are with you in Christ, and resolve to know and to re- 
 ceive one another in the Lord. 
 
 What has the text yielded us ? What have we 
 learned to be meant by cleaving unto Jesus ? That we 
 hold fast to his rehgion, abhorring the thought of apos- 
 tasy — ^that we adhere to him as the Revealer of truth, 
 avoiding every heresy and error — ^that we rest upon 
 him by faith as our atoning Priest — ^that we kneel to 
 him as our King — ^that we cling to his example — ^that 
 we keep near him as the source of aU spiritual, sanctify- 
 ing influence — and that we abide in him as our ever- 
 lasting portion and ultimate good. 
 
 Beloved friends, who have so recently pHghted your 
 faith to Christ, can any laboured application be neces- 
 sary ? You know this Jesus. You have found him, 
 or rather he has found you, afar out of the path, perish- 
 ing on the wild mountains. He has borne you back to 
 the fold, having laid you upon his shoulder. He has 
 clasped you in his arms. You are on his bosom, encir- 
 cled in his righteousness, held and comforted by his 
 Spirit. Can you harbour a thought of escape from 
 cords of love ? " Will ye also go away ? " God forbid ! 
 
280 N^W DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 
 
 Be exhorted, " with purpose of heart to cleave unto the 
 Lord." It includes your whole duty at the present 
 juncture. But for performing it you need that purpose 
 of heart, that immovable determination, which can be 
 neither turned aside nor rent away. The more you 
 ponder on the Christ of the Scriptures, the deeper will 
 be your admiration and love, the firmer your resolve to 
 be inseparable from your Guide. Yet I behold you in 
 weakness and dangers, which, alas, you cannot apprehend 
 aright. Ten thousand skeletons along your way, whiten- 
 ing your path through the desert, should remind you 
 that professing Christians may fall. Your only safety is 
 in being always near to Christ. The only power which 
 can keep you there is the Holy Spirit of God, who at 
 first opened your eyes and conducted you to the Re- 
 deemer. Pray that he would take the things of Christ 
 and show them unto you. Cry daily to him, that he 
 would maintain your union with the living head. " Ye 
 are complete in him." Every thing depends on your 
 having right views of Jesus ; believing on his name and 
 clinging to him for justification ; resorting to him for 
 perpetually renewed pardons; and communing with 
 him, as the Head of influence and the soul's portion. 
 Christless conversions will come to nought. Look to it, 
 brethren, that the Lord Jesus holds the royal, supreme 
 place in your system and your experience. Account the 
 day lost, in which there is no sense of commerce vdth 
 the skies, and tender intercourse with the heavenly 
 Bridegroom. He stands at the door and knocks ; he 
 
NEW DISCIPLES ADMONISHED. 281 
 
 is ready to come in and sup with you. Open the door. 
 Yield to the divine wooing. Let Christ be all in all. 
 Beginning thus, you will assuredly go aright. Lowly 
 adherence to the Lord is the very secret of peace, power 
 and progress. Never give up your hold ; grasp him, 
 keep him, cling to him, abide in him, Hve and die for 
 him. " For ye are the temple of the living God ; as 
 God hath said, I will dwell in them, and walk in 
 them, and I will be their God and they shall be my 
 people." 
 
XIII 
 
 LOVE CASTING OUT FEAE 
 
LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 
 
 1 John iv. 18. 
 
 " There is no fear in love ; but perfect love casteth out fear : because 
 fear hath torment." 
 
 " The fear of the Lord is clean," says David, " en- 
 during forever ;' yet here we learn that fear is cast out. 
 Again it is said, " The fear of the Lord is strong confi- 
 dence ;" " be thou in the fear of the Lord all the day 
 long ;" and " Happy is the man that feareth alway." 
 Surely, we may conclude, this is not the kind of fear 
 which is to be cast out ; but some other, which is nei- 
 ther profitable to us nor pleasing to God. And such a 
 fear there undoubtedly is, as we shall presently see, 
 when we turn our attention to the point more closely. 
 All these commendatory expressions bestowed on Pear, 
 relate to godly fear, which is only another name for 
 
 * New York, June. 1848. 
 
236 I^O^E CASTING OUT FEAR. 
 
 true religion. In the Old Testament, particularly, as 
 you must have observed, piety is frequently named the 
 Pear of the Lord ; perhaps as frequently as in the New 
 Testament it is named Love. Not that either is pecu- 
 liar to these parts of Scripture respectively ; but beyond 
 a question, good men are oftenest spoken of in the Old 
 Testament as fearing, and in the New Testament as 
 loving. Indeed our blessed Creator chose to reveal 
 himself in that earher day amidst more clouds, more 
 through the smoke of altars, more in judgments, more 
 from Sinai, more as the God of hohness and wrath ; 
 and to delay that more inviting radiance of his compas- 
 sion, in which we are privileged to rejoice. Good men 
 loved him then, and good men fear him now ; but Old 
 Testament love was much Hke fear, and New Testament 
 fear is much like love. Abraham and Moses tremble 
 while they draw near in fiHal belief; but John, while 
 he reverences, rests upon the very bosom of his God. 
 We may be assured, however, I repeat it, that the awe- 
 ful reverence which was felt by patriarchs and prophets, 
 and even by the seraphim who veil their faces, shall 
 never be cast out, even by the perfect love of heaven. 
 In this sense we cannot fear too much, and perfect fear 
 of this kind does not cast out love, nor in the sHghtest 
 degree impair it. We have therefore stiU to inquire 
 what this fear is, which is mentioned in the text. 
 
 Looking attentively at the passage, in its connexion, 
 the best key to sound exposition, you will perceive that 
 this fear stands opposed to terror in the last day : v. 16, 
 
LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR, 287 
 
 " herein is our love made perfect, that we may have 
 boldness in the day of judgment." Pear in the day of 
 judgment, my unpardoned friend and brother, is a 
 dreadful fear; a fear which you ought to consider; a 
 fear which you ought to cast out ; a fear which you are 
 beginning to experience at times, and which may come 
 upon you amidst your dying agonies. God dehver you 
 and me from the fear of the Day of Judgment ! You 
 will further perceive that this fear stands opposed to 
 peace of mind and all pleasure : " because fear hath tor- 
 ment." The original word is used in only one other 
 place of the New Testament, and means punishment. 
 There maybe some allusion to future woe, or retributive 
 pain ; but we need not alter our text : the fear we are 
 inquiring about hath torment. It is not a sluggish or a 
 trifling, but a tormenting fear, which is to be cast out. 
 This great and distressing apprehension therefore, which 
 true love expels, is what we must for a httle while sub- 
 mit to a thoughtful examination. 
 
 I. Fear, my brethren, even about minor things, is 
 not a pleasing emotion. In all its forms and in every 
 degree, it belongs to those states of soul which we would 
 gladly avoid. Yet to be altogether without it is to be 
 either far more, or far less than man. In our present 
 condition it is necessary to fear. The passion would 
 indeed be unreasonable, useless and absurd, if we were 
 in no danger. But the truth is, we are in perpetual 
 danger. Prom the moment that the babe asserts its 
 vitahty by a first exclamation, till the closing gasp, we 
 
288 ^^^E CASTING OUT FEAR. 
 
 are in peril. The apprehension of evils is an instinct 
 or constitutional propensity which we have in common 
 with the lower tribes. By this we are enabled to shun 
 a thousand evils into wliich we should otherwise fall to 
 our destruction. It is temerity or foolhardiness not to 
 fear. It is neither unreasonable nor unmanly to fear 
 real danger. The child, the drunkard, the madman or 
 the idiot, is exempt from apprehension, in circumstances 
 where an Achilles or a WelHngton would feel the 
 wholesome alarm. The pilot who should laugh at 
 the dangers of a passage and go on rocks ; the house- 
 holder who should He still in a conflagration ; or the 
 traveller who should descend into an active volcano, 
 might purchase the fame of fearlessness, but would die 
 as the fool dieth. The unmanly dread is that which 
 unfits for action, and which increases the danger. Still, 
 the fears to which man is perpetually subject show that 
 he is no longer in a perfect state. Fear, look at it as 
 we may, is a shadow cast over the human path by sin. 
 It teUs of danger ; and danger whispers of penalty. 
 " Fear hath torment." 
 
 Other emotions or passions carry some degree of 
 pleasm-e : fear carries none. No man elects it. Every 
 man would gladly be rid of it. To escape it is to avoid 
 an enemy. Whatever may be the object dreaded, the 
 emotion, even when salutary, is distressing. So far 
 however from being salutary, in most instances, it is en- 
 feebhng and disastrous. We fear a thousand enemies 
 that never come in sight, and ten thousand that never 
 
LOVE CASTING OUT FEAB. 289 
 
 had a being. We are ingeniously inventive in our 
 fears ; conjuring up phantoms, and adding to the ap- 
 prehensions of to-day the wilder apprehensions of to- 
 morrow ; alarmed for ourselves, and alarmed for others ; 
 trembling while it is well with us, lest it should not 
 abide so ; and while it is ill with us, lest it should 
 grow worse. Single instances of fear, constantly re- 
 peated, produce a fearing habit, till sometimes the 
 wretched soul can do little else than fear. Such is the 
 case of many, whose natural disposition this way is in* 
 creased by misfortune, by disease, by age, by melan- 
 choly, by superstition, and by a sore and evil con- 
 science. For this is the true ghost, that haunts the 
 chamber and draws the curtain of the timorous. 
 
 Thus far we have viewed fear, as respecting the or- 
 dinary evils and threatenings of common life ; its pains, 
 losses, and disgraces. You, my hearers, best know, 
 whether you have ever feared ; what it was that you 
 were afraid of ; and what it was that gave pungency to 
 the trial. 
 
 II. But there is one object which is more particularly 
 formidable, and the very naming of which causes a chiQ 
 of dread to run down your body ; it also never fails to 
 bring up some thought of sin and penalty. It is so 
 terrible, that I seem to behold the entire human race, 
 for six thousand years, at their utmost stretch of exer- 
 tion flying from it ; yet so certain, that of all these un- 
 numbered tremblers only two are known to have es- 
 caped. Death is the king of terrors. Hence when 
 19 
 
290 ^^^^ CASTING OUT FEAR. 
 
 Jesus, death's conqueror, subjects himself to the great 
 enemy, this is one of the reasons given for that unpar- 
 alleled submission, " that through death he might de- 
 stroy him that had the power of death, that is, the 
 devil, and dehver them who, through fear of deaths were 
 all their lifetime subject to bondage." This is dehver- 
 ance indeed ; and from bondage. All other fears, short 
 of eternity, are nothing to this. It has prompted men, 
 in instances innumerable, to exertions which had been 
 otherwise impossible. It is true of natural men, who- 
 ever said it, that " skin for skin, all that a man hath will 
 he give for his life." Hence the power of rehgion 
 shines resplendent, when men " hate their own Hves ;" 
 " love not their hves unto the death ;" and choose mar- 
 tyrdom for Christ's sake. Even for worldly objects, 
 however, men have been found willing to sacrifice hfe ; 
 but no motives have so remarkably taken away this 
 dread of death, as Christian faith. The dread may be 
 detected by you, in your own hearts, on a Kttle inspec- 
 tion. 
 
 III. All this, however, Christian brethren, fails to 
 conduct us to the fuQ meaning of our text. This is not 
 all the fear that is to be cast out ; even including death, 
 as we have just done ; unless — O mark the words — we 
 farther include that for which death is feared. Could 
 we die as infants die : with no forebodings ; with no 
 accompanying tempter down the valley to the irrevoca- 
 ble gate ; with no subsequent anguish ; death would be 
 reduced to the bare endurance of a bodily pang ; often 
 
LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. ggj 
 
 greater in appearance than reality, and not more than 
 you or I perhaps have suffered ah-eady. You do not 
 need me to inform you what " makes cowards of us 
 all." There is a reckoning after death. Were you en- 
 sured, in regard to that, your chief terrors would be 
 quieted ; and though for many lesser reasons you might 
 indeed desire to live, yet, heaven being certain, you 
 would feel instantly relieved from that mountain fear 
 under which you are now crushed. Witness, O con- 
 science, that our master-dread is of eternal retribution ! 
 What else is the meaning of our apostle, when he says, 
 " Herein is. our love made perfect, that we may have 
 boldness in the day of judgment ! " Do not our fears 
 run on before as if hastening to that day ? and will 
 they not in that day, from such as know not this bold- 
 ness, extort cries, vain cries, for the protection of rocks 
 and mountains ? How vain a covert " from the face of 
 Him that sitteth on the throne, and from the wrath of 
 the Lamb ! " 
 
 It is remarkable how extensive has been the preva- 
 lence of such terrors among mankind. Account for it 
 as we may, a large part of the human race have had 
 them. Christianity does not cause them. They pre- 
 vail where the name of Christ was never heard. They 
 are cries from the deep, dark recesses of human nature, 
 shuddering before the divine retributions. They come 
 to us from the shades of ancient mythology, echoing 
 the names of Rhadamanthus, Tartarus, and Phlegethon. 
 They are repeated in the burnings, mutilations, self- 
 
292 LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 
 
 tortures, and human sacrifices of all generations. Pear 
 of the wrath to come has reared its myriads of altars. 
 Explain it as we may, the fact is undeniable. There is 
 a profound sensibility on this subject, natural to man- 
 kind. We doubt not it is a principle left standing, 
 even among heathen, as a stock on which to engraft the 
 true religion. Could we know the whole reahty, we 
 should be amazed to learn how universal such appre- 
 hensions have been, even among the most barbarous 
 nations. 
 
 Under the fuller Hght of revelation, we find great 
 fears among men, in regard to their condition in the 
 other world. So widely are these anxieties scattered, 
 that a principal employment of false teachers is to do 
 them away. Once convince a man that you possess a 
 secret means of removing his fear of eternity, and you 
 make him your friend. You have touched the point of 
 exquisite sensibihty. Only reheve him there, and you 
 have destroyed his chief enemy. Hence, just as men 
 are daily the prey of empirics and charlatans in physic, 
 from their thirst for dainty methods of cure, so they fall 
 readily into the snares of deceivers in religion, jfrom 
 their anxiety to be secure in conscience. Otherwise, 
 how could we account for the large reception, by whole 
 nations, of that stupendous imposture of sacerdotal ab- 
 solution, the unction and the viaticum ? as though any 
 ceremonial whatever could reach the spirit or prepare 
 it for judgment. Or how account for that other delu- 
 sion, whereby people, with the very words of Christ in 
 
LOVE CASTmG OUT FEAR. 293 
 
 their hands, set up so-called churches, to persuade men 
 that God means to break his word, and that the wicked 
 shall escape all punishment. These and the like errors 
 invite the souls of men, eager to escape from a dreadftd 
 horror of judgment. You may readily convince your- 
 self how much this has to do with your anxieties, if you 
 will only imagine your hour of dying to have come ; if 
 you will only present to your view the bar of Christ ; 
 and if you will only calculate the amount of rehef, which 
 would be afforded by the certainty of acceptance at his 
 hands. 
 
 IV. These are indeed the chief manifestations of 
 that which alarms us ; but Fear has a wider domain 
 and a more magnificent object. Even Death and Judg- 
 ment, awful as they are, derive all their terrors from a 
 greater fear : they are only expressions of the Wrath 
 OF God. This wrath it is which is enkindled by our 
 sin, and which like an infinite fire inflames the rage of 
 Tophet. When we trace up our fears to their princi- 
 ple, we find them fixing on one august but dread ob- 
 ject, — ^the Lord God Almighty, considered as a God of 
 infinite holiness and infinite justice. " God is angry 
 with the wicked, every day." It is not more clearly 
 revealed that there is a God, or that there is a Christ, 
 than that the Justice of Jehovah goes forth toward the 
 destruction of the guilty. Is it not so ? Does not the 
 voice within you, my hearers, testify to the justice of 
 such fears ? " If all in this assembly were to rise, one 
 after another, in answer to the question. Art thou pre- 
 
294 ^^^^ CASTING OUT FEAR. 
 
 pared to die ? it is not likely that the majority would re- 
 ply with that firmness which marks a thorough assur- 
 ance. Vague hopes ; inconsiderate confidence ; at best 
 unfounded reasons ; these are what we should find in 
 most. Over us all there hangs, from time to time, a 
 heavy cloud, betokening the anger of God, and his infi- 
 nite opposition to sin. We may not always have the object 
 precisely before our thoughts, as a definite point in the- 
 ology ; but we are not at ease ; we lack something to 
 constitute peace; we feel that God is offended; we 
 dare not meet him. And what is this, dear brethren, 
 but the inward witness of conscience ? Por what pur- 
 pose has God placed this detective spy within us, but 
 to give warning of this very thing ? These apprehen- 
 sions may vary, but they are in kind the same. What 
 is all this but fear of God's justice ? Not, I beseech 
 you to observe, that holy fear of God, with which we 
 began, and which will abide in heaven ; but the dis- 
 tress of a consciously sinful soul in God's presence. 
 Ah ! it is the rankhng of this arrow, barbed and poi- 
 soned, deep and inextricable. Many a one there is, in 
 Christian assembhes, who goes and comes for years, 
 carrying this hidden wound in the bosom. More suffer 
 thus than the world suspects. On this trouble, neigh- 
 bour does not talk with neighbour. Often it is hidden 
 from wife and children. Yet there it is, a wounded 
 spirit ; a conscience unreconciled with God. Un- 
 der this head therefore we must include, in their infi- 
 nite diversity, all the painful apprehensions which men 
 
LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. £95 
 
 have, througli all their lives, in regard to their failures 
 to please God, and their sense of his displeasure. These 
 fears he in ambush to come upon us in chosen mo- 
 ments. They " bide their time." Just as a malignant 
 and perfidious enemy will sometimes wait tiU his victim 
 is feeble, or sohtary, or in darkness, and then waylay 
 him, dart upon him, and inflict the fatal blow ; so these 
 fears (which are in abeyance, and let a man alone in times 
 of health and wealth, of youth and prosperity) gather 
 around him when he is in illness, in despondency, in 
 bereavement, in poverty, and in declining years. When 
 you shall be in your chief worldly troubles, then I fore- 
 warn you, expect your chief spiritual troubles. If you 
 have neglected God in your summer-days, look for as- 
 saults of your adversary when trials begin to thicken. 
 Would to God, I could duly impress on men of busi- 
 ness and of health, the ruinous game they are playing 
 with their immortal souls, by procrastinating this grand 
 settlement to days of debihty, pain and despondence ; 
 to days, alas! that may bring no opportunity of 
 thought. 
 
 V. A clearer view of this fear would be obtained, if 
 we could see it in one of its great critical moments, 
 such as the time of conviction of sin. This is a crisis 
 in the disease of fear. It is not different from all the 
 rest ; but now the apprehension has risen high, and re- 
 ceives that last drop which makes it run over the brim. 
 God is the same ; the danger is the same ; it is the soul 
 that is different. Its gaze is fixed inward on itself. 
 
296 LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 
 
 David's word comes true, My sin is ever before me. 
 All other thoughts are absorbed. Instead of this or 
 that blemish, like a single drop of blood, behold ! all 
 has become one gory vision of crimson and scarlet ! 
 There is neither sleep nor nourishment. No sorrow is 
 like this sorrow, where deep. You know not what you 
 are preparing for yourself, by neglecting repentance. 
 This is a condensation of many fears into one, before 
 which the stoutest minds have been appalled. Now, the 
 apprehension of God's judgment rises to an acme, and 
 the soul is in a paroxysm which it cannot long endure. 
 If it continued, it might unsettle reason. But no au- 
 thentic case is on record, or known to us, of any in- 
 stance in which simple sorrow for sin, however poig- 
 nant, has resulted in alienation of mind. 
 
 VI. By which we may be led to turn aside for a few 
 moments to consider an injurious objection. We often 
 hear it said that persons are driven to madness by 
 thinking of their sins ; or that religion has crazed them ; 
 and even in some instances that they have been urged 
 to suicide. Now I dare not undertake to say how far 
 a man who has obstinately rejected the offer of salvation 
 may be left of God, even in this world : but after many 
 opportunities of intimate acquaintance with cases of 
 what is called religious melanclioly , I can solemnly de- 
 clare my absolute conviction, that the phrase, in its 
 common acceptation, is used in misapprehension. Such 
 melancholy is not religious, in any such sense as that it 
 is caused by rehgion. It is undoubtedly true, that 
 
LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 
 
 297 
 
 persons are found in a state of deep melancholy and 
 even insanity, whose thoughts run perpetually on re- 
 ligion. It would be wonderful if it were otherwise. 
 AU unsound minds seize on topics of high interest. 
 Religion affords such topics. Just as the disturbed 
 mind fixes on property, family connexions or ambition, 
 so on religion. And this without its being true that 
 rehgion, or even its abuses, caused the alienation. We 
 have therefore known the same individual agonized to- 
 day about the salvation of his soul, and to-morrow about 
 remedies for his body ; insanely in both cases. Yet 
 neither rehgion nor medicine was chargeable with his 
 aberration. The case of Cowper, the poet, has often 
 been cited against us ; but truly stated, it is wholly and 
 powerfully on our side. There never was, indeed, a 
 case more striking of what is called rehgious melancholy. 
 The gloom was black ; the fear was desperate. Yet, to 
 charge this to rehgion, is grossly unphilosophical as well 
 as unjust. Long before Cowper's rehgious experience 
 began, he evinced so marked a tendency to madness, 
 that, as is weU known, he made an attempt on his own 
 life. When afterwards he attained to evangehcal views 
 of truth, he received from them his first balm and con- 
 solation. Prom rehgion he received nothing but good. 
 If, afterwards, he relapsed into a sullen, impenetrable 
 gloom, it is no more than is usual in such cases. To 
 all sympathizing friends, instances of this kind are most 
 trying ; but they belong more to the physician than the 
 pastor. Reasoning and instruction are for the most 
 
298 ^^^^ CASTING OUT FEAR. 
 
 part thrown away on tliem. We must commit them 
 to God, in the use of those physical and moral means 
 which experience has shown to minister to a mind dis- 
 eased. My apology for this digression must be the 
 importance of right ideas on this grav6 subject, and the 
 fact that its distresses usually take the form of exag- 
 gerated fear.* 
 
 VII. Let it never be forgotten, that much as we 
 may boast of our reason, our mental discipline, and our 
 self-control, there is nothing at times more beyond our 
 command, than our own thoughts and passions. How 
 much are we at the mercy of God, herein ! Who has 
 not known the time when he would have given half his 
 worldly goods to be exempt from one importunate sug- 
 gestion or harrowing image ? Dreadful apprehensions 
 of God's anger, whether well or ill founded, are among 
 the most intolerable of all our states of mind. The 
 citadel itself is assaulted. The supporting power itself 
 cries for support. " The spirit of a man will sustain 
 his infirmity ; but a wounded spirit who can bear ! " 
 It affords a powerful argument against a life of sin, 
 that the habits of mind engendered and fostered by 
 such a life, are opposed to self-control, and promotive 
 of self-afflicting cares and misgivings. 
 
 VIII . Taking the highest and most general view of 
 our subject, the person supposed Hves in slavish fear 
 
 * Upon tLis greatly abused topic, and on kindred distresses, I 
 recommend a small but valuable treatise of my esteemed friend, the 
 Rev. Joseph H. Jones, D. D. 
 
LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 299 
 
 OF God. Now what condition of a human soul can be 
 thought of, more unnatural or more destructive than to 
 live perpetually in panic with respect to its Creator, its 
 Portion, its Savioiu", than to hate the thought of the 
 Greatest, Best, and Loveliest ! What more hopeless, 
 than to shrink with horror from the countenance that is 
 always turned on us, and be impatient of the searching 
 eye which we can never escape! This is what im- 
 penitent men are preparing for themselves in greater 
 measure than they have yet experienced. Even now 
 they sometimes shake with terror, or avoid it only by a 
 violent force put upon the thoughts; but the great 
 mystery of fear is yet to be revealed to them. 
 
 IX. Even children of grace, in their less favoured 
 hours, in times of temptation, and sometimes at inter- 
 vals, all their hves long, are troubled with doubts and 
 terrors. They fear to die. They still more fear the 
 Judgment. If on certain rare occasions, the darkness 
 is broken, and the behever, trembling, says, " Lord, 
 thou knowest all things, thou knowest that I love 
 thee ! " this twinkhng star, just above the horizon, soon 
 sets, and all is obscurity. Ear be it from us to measure 
 grace by sensible joys, or to say that doubting Chris- 
 tians have no faith. Much more true is it, that pre- 
 sumptuous, undoubting vaunters of their own cloudless 
 skies and Pharisaic assurance are in danger of surprise 
 and overthrow. We believe holy souls may be in fear ; 
 but we also beheve that their fears have no part in their 
 holiness. " There is no fear in love ; " as our text de- 
 
300 ^^^^ CASTING OUT FEAR. 
 
 clares. There is no happiness in fear, " because fear 
 hath torment." We should all endeavour to rise as 
 speedily as possible out of this region of mists and 
 clouds. A life which has to be largely spent in discus- 
 sions of the question whether we are in the path or not, 
 is every way inferior to a life of going forward in the 
 way. The degrees of fear vary ; but aU " fear hath 
 torment." The head cannot be erect, as should be that 
 of a king's son. There cannot be the higher attain- 
 ments in piety. The mpre generous and stimulating 
 motives are absent. " The joy of the Lord is your 
 strength." Perpetual fearfulness is as bad in rehgion 
 as in the world. It writes a signature of gloom on the 
 countenance, which discredits religion and deters com- 
 panions. Heroic Christianity, noble daring, champion- 
 ship for truth and humanity, call for liveher hopes and 
 unwavering confidence. Hence all who profess to fol- 
 low Christ, should listen with a wistful expectation to 
 every proposal of means for casting out this fear. 
 
 X. Before leaving this branch of the subject, let 
 your minds dwell a little on the condition of those who 
 are justly exposed to the perpetuity of these fears. 
 Their conscience, if not seared, is a daily suggester of 
 evil forebodings. They are wrong, and they know it. 
 The thought of guilt is the thought of punishment. 
 This servile dread, though weU-founded, has no virtue 
 in it. Were it increased ever so much, it would only 
 be more like the state of evil angels, who " beHeve and 
 tremble." Their anguish at God's justice is mingled 
 
LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 3Q]^ 
 
 with no evangelical sorrow for sin : it does not make 
 them love God any more. Nay, it is generally mixed 
 with some repining and rebellion. It prompts the 
 question, " Why hast thou made me thus ? " It drives 
 away from God, and thoughts of God. Let this con- 
 tinue, and it frequently issues in the most vehement 
 opposition to divine things. 
 
 If, my dear hearer, you are conscious of no fihal at- 
 tachment to God ; if the thought of God gives you 
 trouble, or exasperates the pang of conscience ; if the 
 law is terrible, and the Gospel a dead letter ; if you 
 still labour for the meat that perisheth, and stiU forsake 
 your own mercies; then, of a truth, you need no 
 preacher to tell you that " fear hath torment." But 
 this is a state which admits of degrees. You suffer 
 more, it may be, than you once did. Who knows but 
 you may go on to greater suffering ? It will, indeed, 
 be your own choosing of death rather than life ; but 
 the thing is possible. I have no promise from this 
 book, to assure you that you shall not reap as you have 
 sowed. There is nothing in philosophy or scripture to 
 demonstrate that the fear of to-day may not ripen into 
 the greater fear of to-morrow ; or that the passions and 
 torment of an evil nature here may not be carried for- 
 ward and developed in another state. If death were 
 the certain antidote of pain and fear, why then, my 
 brethren, the suicide would be the wise man, and the 
 Iscariot who went to his own place, only leaped more 
 boldly and rapidly to that heaven, for which his brother 
 
302 '^^^^ CASTING OUT FEAR, 
 
 apostles toiled through sorrows and blood. But no ! 
 you will be the same persons beyond death. What 
 solemn object is that, which yonder rises out of the 
 ocean, among mists, on the further side of dissolution ! 
 What throne and tribunal emerges from that expanse 
 of indistinct futurity ! " It is appointed unto men once 
 to die . . . but after this ... the Judgment." Are 
 you athirst for salvation ? Behold, it is ready for you, 
 and you may drink " of the fountain of the water of 
 life freely." But take care how you flatter yourself, 
 that as a matter of course all fear shall be left behind 
 you when you die. " The fearful," I say, " the fear- 
 ful," are specially noted. Rev. xxi. 8, with the unbe- 
 lieving and the abominable, as having " their part in 
 the lake of fire." Pear is an ingredient in their cup. 
 " Pear hath torment." 
 
 AU which is presented to you, not to sink you in 
 despair, but, on the contrary, to show you the gulf from 
 which true rehgion stands ready to dehver you. K 
 "fear hath torment," which cannot be denied, yet "per- 
 fect love casteth out fear ;" which is the second topic 
 awaiting your consideration. 
 
 XI. That the Love here spoken of is love towards 
 God, admits of no reasonable doubt. The whole con- 
 text shows it. Immediately before, he has been men- 
 tioning fear — fear of God. Immediately after, he gives 
 this ground of the love intended : " We love him, be- 
 cause he first loved us." It is true, v. 20, in a follow- 
 ing verse he speaks of love toward brethren ; but he 
 
LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. gno 
 
 speaks of this as a consequence and evidence of love to 
 God. 
 
 The Love of God in a large sense, is the whole of 
 religion and the fulfiUing of the law. All the second 
 table results from the first. " Every one that loveth 
 him that begat, loveth him that is begotten of him." 
 Love is a familiar passion. It is no part of our plan 
 to treat of its varieties. No agent is more mighty. 
 Among all nations, in all ages, it is an element of incal- 
 culable moment in the problems of history. It is the 
 moral cement of the universe. Just so much order, 
 harmony, and union are there in the world, as there is 
 love. It is a self-manifesting principle. We Imow 
 when we love. It is a Kvely, operative principle, break- 
 ing forth into acts, services, and sacrifices. This is true 
 even of that common terrestrial love which exists be- 
 tween parents and children, friend and friend. It is 
 the same affection in kind, when we rise towards God. 
 The subject is the same ; it is the same human spirit 
 which loves. The object is varied ; for it is God who 
 is loved ; and the degree admits of indefinite enlarge- 
 ment. 
 
 Yet, when we come to consider this holy passion of 
 the soul, we must not fail to take into view one impor- 
 tant trait of it, which is, that it \s,love toward a perfect 
 and infinite Being. I fear this is not enough consider- 
 ed. There are peculiarities of aU love towards a supe- 
 rior. The mother loves her babe ; the good master his 
 servant ; the teacher his scholar ; the guardian his ward ; 
 
304 LOYE CASTING OUT FEAR. 
 
 the commander his soldier. Brother and sister, hus- 
 band and wife, companion and companion, between 
 these there are strong affections ; but they flow to- 
 wards inferiors or equals. The regard for a superior is 
 something different. Consider the love of one whose 
 life has been saved by his Sovereign. Ascend a Httle 
 towards the love of a disciple for his master ; you are 
 here only beginning, at an infinite remove, to tread the 
 path upward to the love of God. Love toward one far 
 above us is a love tempered with veneration and awe ; 
 and, as was said before, this kind of fear is not to be 
 cast out. The soul bows and sinks, as wondering how 
 it dares to love. The supreme excellence, which fixes 
 the eve and fills the circuit of vision, and is known to 
 fill the universal sphere of all vision of all united intel- 
 Kgences, the Lord Almighty, fountain and sum of all 
 glories and all beauties, is a sun too dazzhng to be 
 gazed on with careless eye. Of all human affections, 
 there is none more solemn. Words fail ; often external 
 acts of worship fail. When the prayer of God's house 
 is most lifted up, and the spirit of worshippers most at- 
 tuned ; when the chorus of the great congregation is 
 fullest, and the swell of a multitude of voices most em- 
 ulates the choir of heaven ; even these expressions fail, 
 and the loving heart is conscious of an emotion which 
 rises and soars beyond them all, till it despairs of utter- 
 ance, and sits down to say, " Come then, expressive 
 silence, muse his praise ! " The fearfulness of a soul 
 flying to God in praise, is the trembling of a dove that 
 
LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 3Q5 
 
 closes its pinions to sink into the nest. " Return unto 
 thy rest O my soul.'' It is an awful sweetness ; the 
 cloud of jfrankincense amidst which the worshipper lifts 
 the vail and enters into the holy-of-hohes. There is a 
 perfect consistency between the reverence and the love. 
 The greater the awe, the greater the happiness. Be- 
 yond a doubt, the haUowed stillness and adoring fear 
 of heaven is more deep and awful than even the Joy of 
 death. 
 
 What on earth is more solemn than a behever's 
 death ? Yet what is naore joyful ? The love, then, of 
 a soul toward God, is a love of what is superior, yea, 
 supreme. It finds its object at the utmost reach of its 
 ascending faculties ; it descries that object as infinite, 
 and beholds it evermore transcendiag all Hmits of com- 
 prehension, and evermore flying from the approach of 
 finite powers. The soul despairs of perfectly embrac- 
 ing ; and yet it loves ! Not one pang of this exquisite 
 delight, this dread enjoyment, would it give away; 
 though it knows that if God should withhold his sus- 
 taining hand, or open more fully the tide of influence 
 into the frail vessel, the soul would fain die under it. It 
 may be that some of those deep sleeps, mentioned in the 
 Scriptures, were compassionately afforded as refuges for 
 sinking nature, under the excess of divine manifesta- 
 tions. Such was the slumber on the mount of trans- 
 figuration. The love of God, as our infinite superior, 
 has therefore a sacredness and a subHmity which fully 
 redeem it from all the trivial belongings of natural af- 
 20 
 
306 ^^"^ CASTING OUT FEAR. 
 
 fection. It is a love to all God's perfections, so far as 
 revealed ; for, doubtless, God has mirevealed perfec- 
 tions, and fields of glory in the immensity of his nature, 
 which no faculties of ours can comprehend ; hues of 
 beauty to which our sense is bhnd, and harmonies of 
 wisdom and hohness to which our ear is deaf. But 
 what is revealed is aU the object of our love, and this 
 love is the principal thing in rehgion. He that truly 
 loves God is a redeemed soul and true Christian ; he 
 who loves him not, is yet in his sins. 
 
 XII. Some sincere persons have been much troubled 
 because the text speaks of perfect love. They know 
 that if they have any love whatever, it is far from being 
 perfect ; and that they have never seen evidence of sin- 
 less perfection in any ; least of all, in those who claim 
 it for themselves. How then can our fears, say they, 
 ever be cast out ? If we wait for sinless love, we must 
 wait for heaven. Our love is so faint, so far from what 
 it ought to be and from what our God deserves ; so 
 blemished by selfishness, pride, and passion ; so inter- 
 rupted by rival affections ; so pulled down earthward 
 by sloth and camahty ; so overhung by unbehef; that 
 never, never, even for a single hour, could we pretend 
 to plead such affection as perfect love. Let me reply, 
 for this is a hinderance which must be removed out of 
 the way. The apostle does not say that every measure 
 of sincere Christian love casts out every measure of 
 fear. This were to condemn and strike from the list 
 aU doubting disciples; a proposal sometimes made 
 
LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 3Q7 
 
 by zealots and fanatics, but wMcli we have repudiated 
 under a former head. There is not a man that Hveth 
 and sinneth not ; there is not a loving soul that does 
 not sometimes fear. And " he that feareth is not made 
 perfect in love.'' It is perfect love that casteth out all 
 fear ; every the least degree of it. Even then on the 
 extreme supposition that the apostle means by this word 
 a love that is iminterrupted and sinless, he asserts this, 
 and this only, to wit, that love and fear are so opposed, 
 that the perfect and absolute prevalence of one excludes 
 the other ; and further, that where the reign of love is 
 complete, as we know, for example, it is in heaven, 
 there is no fear ; and still further, that in proportion 
 to the increase of love will be the decrease of fear. 
 The nearer you approach to perfect love, the nearer to 
 perfect fearlessness, that is to heaven. This, I say, is 
 the apostle's meaning, even on the supposition, that by 
 the word " perfect " he intends uninterrupted and abso- 
 lute sinlessness. 
 
 But there is no need of understanding him to mean 
 this. The word " perfect," as none are so fuQy con- 
 vinced as the most dihgent and learned students of 
 the original, has several significations. It is appHed to 
 Job, who sinned egregiously ; and to any thorough 
 Christian, as, 1 Cor. ii. 6 ; Phik iii. 15 ; Col. iv. 12. 
 It is apphed to that which is symmetrical, not wanting 
 its essential parts, sincere and genuine, even though not 
 sinless, and though not consummate in its degree. It 
 unquestionably here points to a high attainment in re- 
 
308 ^^^^ CASTING OUT FEAR. 
 
 ligion ; no common reach of experience ; one of the 
 summits in om* pilgrimage. And it is no ordinary 
 fruit which is here propounded, the casting out of fear 
 — of that fear which occupied our painful attention 
 just now. If, brethren, you would be delivered from 
 such an enemy, know ye, that it is by no every-day at- 
 tainment in grace. It is a measure of attainable love 
 which is held out to us as a sweet resting-place in the 
 journey up these mountains ; but we are not to be de- 
 terred from seeking it, by the assurance that angelic, 
 heavenly, sinless perfection, is impracticable on earth. 
 So much it seemed necessary to say, concerning this 
 love as perfect. It is then the holy, sincere affection of 
 a renewed soul towards God, so exalted by divine grace 
 enlarging the experience, as to remove servile and tor- 
 menting dread. 
 
 XIII. Having now considered what this love is (the 
 subject of the apostle's proposition), let us consider its 
 operation, i. e. how it casts out fear. 1. Perfect love 
 casts out fear, because it is founded on just views of 
 God. No unconverted person has just views of God. 
 If he knew God, he would be saved. " This is eternal 
 life, to know Thee, the only true God, and Jesus Christ, 
 whom thou hast sent." No person, under the anguish 
 of an alienated mindji under pangs of conscience and 
 dead works, under legal horrors, under self-condemn- 
 ing lashes of remorse, has just views of God. All 
 slavish fear regards God in a distorted manner. It 
 may not overrate his Justice or his Wrath, but it 
 
LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. gQg 
 
 amazingly underrates his Mercy and his grace. " God 
 is love ;" and the sight of this is connected with all true 
 beheving. To see God, is to see his love. To see the 
 Gospel, is to see its grace. It is believing. Faith is a 
 reception of God's character, as a God of infinite grace 
 and mercy. Even true Christians, in those hours when 
 they have servile fears and are tormented about their 
 future destiny, are guilty of lapses in their faith ; they 
 cease to believe in some respects ; they lose their hold 
 in part on some divine truth ; they look at their Re- 
 deemer under false Hghts ; in a word, they have not 
 just views of God. 
 
 Do not misunderstand me, as if I made love the source 
 of faith. Some have so taught ; but in so doing, have 
 made a preposterous derangement of cause and effect. 
 We freely own, that between the affections and the un- 
 derstanding, as also between love and faith, there is a 
 reciprocity of action. He who loves most, will be most 
 able and ready to believe. If any man do Christ's will, 
 he shall know of the doctrine. Right affections tend to 
 clear vision. " The pure in heart shall see God." This- 
 is undeniable ; but this is not what we mean at present. 
 Faith precedes love. We must perceive the amiable 
 qualities of divinity before we love them. It is the 
 order of nature and the order of grace. But when that 
 regenerating word is spoken, whereby the dead soul 
 awakes, and the bhnd soul is enHghtened, the same fiat 
 that results in just views of God, results in love for 
 
310 I'OVE CASTING OUT FEAK. 
 
 those august glories whicli begin to expand before the 
 enraptured vision. 
 
 Now, the very views of God's character which pro- 
 duce eminent love, do at the same time remove fear. 
 You once thought of God as a hard master, an austere 
 judge, if not a tyrant. You trembled as the slave at 
 the lash. You dared not come to God with any inti- 
 macy of approach, not even with fihal beseeching. You 
 regarded religion as a hard service, however neces- 
 sary for escaping from hell ; and conversion as a repul- 
 sive humbhng process, which you would gladly put oiff 
 as far as possible. You often tried to disabuse yourself 
 of your early impressions respecting God, and to make 
 him out such a one as yourself : as tolerant of sin and 
 as regardless of his word. And, failing of this, you 
 earnestly sought to flee from his presence. If sudden 
 danger, or violent illness and possible death, came on 
 you, how terrific and black were all your thoughts of 
 God 1 You beheld in him every thing rather than the 
 Friend and Father; and you were ready to quarrel 
 with the system of doctrine which exalts his immaculate 
 purity and inflexible justice ; as if by your prejudices 
 you could undo the reahty of God's attributes. Was 
 not this the view you habitually took of God ? It was 
 totally false, grossly unjust to your Maker and Re- 
 deemer, perverse, absurd, and ungrateful. O, the 
 blessed change, when grace opened your eyes ! How 
 you looked on God, as on a new discovery. How the 
 famihar words, which tell of him in hymns and cate- 
 
LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. ^\\ 
 
 chisms, seemed a fresli revelation. Now you wondered 
 how you could ever have had doubts and misgivings 
 about him who is the most Blessed and the most Lov- 
 ing. You charged your souls with the sin of having 
 lived with your chief friend so long, as though he had 
 been your chief enemy. New Hght has broken in on 
 your ceU. You contemplate Jehovah as the infinitude 
 of moral perfection ; you are absorbed in the contem- 
 plation ; and own that you were made capable of love 
 in order that you might love such a being. 
 
 Now, my brethren, these are just views of God ; 
 though infinitely below the truth. And so beholding 
 Jehovah, as containing in himself all that is entrancing- 
 ly excellent, and all that is boundlessly benevolent, in- 
 efiably pure and great, and immeasurably communica- 
 tive of happiness to his creatures, you found your love 
 on a view, which at the very same time forbids you to 
 fear. What place is left for servile fear ? If any, it 
 must be in some disbehef of such a character in God. 
 Admitting this, you cannot but draw nigh. These as- 
 pects of the divine nature are attractive. They draw 
 the soul in confidence. They command the affections 
 in fihal repose. Nothing conceivable can so expel 
 doubts and terrors as the true beholding of God as he 
 is; and love and confidence are twin streams which 
 perpetually mingle their waters. 
 
 2. Perfect love casts out fear, because it is founded 
 on a belief of God's love to us. Consider what is the 
 reason of all our rehgious fears. Is it not that we ap- 
 
312 LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 
 
 prehend that God does not love us ? For if he really 
 loves us, and intends our salvation, fear on this point is 
 shut out ; it were insane to fear. Only acquire the un- 
 wavering conviction that God regards you with com- 
 passionate kindness, and your dread of all consequences 
 vanishes. Just in proportion as you credit this con- 
 ceniing God, just in proportion as you know him to be 
 on your side, will you be raised above fear. Now, my 
 brethren, I pray you to perceive, for it is the main dis- 
 covery of the New Testament, that the revelation which 
 you need to banish your fear, is the very revelation 
 which the Gospel was sent to make. The Gospel is 
 none other than a declaration of God's stupendous 
 method of saving sinners. The belief of the Gospel is 
 behef of this ; it is behef that God is your friend. It 
 is a looking out of the soul upon God as a God of love, 
 giving himself to us as a Saviour. And it is this view 
 of God and this behef of the Gospel which is the cause 
 of that love which casteth out fear. Do you doubt 
 this ? Just call to mind those portions of your expe- 
 rience which coincide with the matter in hand. Recol- 
 lect what change of views made a change of affections ; 
 what it was that melted you into love. Was it not 
 your sudden apprehension of the truth that, notwith- 
 standing all your sins, God loved you? Was it 
 not your coming all at once to recognise the neglected 
 truth, that even your greatest transgressions could not 
 keep you from the enjoyment of God's compassion, if 
 you would but accept it in the Gospel ? And is not 
 
LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 3^3 
 
 this just what the apostle says ? v. 14 : " And we have 
 seen and do testify, that the Father sent the Son to be 
 the Saviour of the world." v. 16 : "And we have known 
 and believed the love that God hath to us!^ Mark, my 
 brethren, what it is that we have known and beheved. 
 " God is Love : and he that dwelleth in love dwelleth in 
 God, and God in him." There is no fear in love. " We 
 love him because he first loved us." Here we have 
 arrived at the sacred fount of love to God. It flows 
 from a belief of God's love to us. " We love him be- 
 cause he first loved us." Some interpreters, I know, 
 in order to hold up a metaphysical scheme of disinter- 
 ested benevolence as the sole essence of virtue, would 
 explain this verse to mean only that unless God had 
 loved us first, we never should have loved him : they 
 deny that our view of his love to us is a source of our 
 love to him ; they exclude all love of gratitude, as self- 
 ish. They might as well exclude aU human nature, or 
 all the gush of blood from these hearts. Every true 
 convert, unspoiled by inventions of sophistry, feels 
 the warm current of his soul going forth in love to 
 God, for this very reason, and undert his very motive, 
 that God has loved him. It is true, we love God for 
 what he is in himself. But the greatest, most intelli- 
 gible, and most afiecting view of what God is in him- 
 self, is the view of tohat he is to us, of his unspeakable 
 love in redemption. And no man ever so loves as when 
 he beholds this love of God to himself most clearly. 
 Brethren, it would be unpardonable in me not to 
 
314 I'^^ CASTING OUT FEAR. 
 
 say, that the highest demonstration of this divine pity 
 is in the incarnation and death of Jesus Christ. " The 
 Father sent the Son to be the Saviour of the world." 
 It is therefore at the foot of the cross that our love is 
 most awakened, and that our hearts are melted by the 
 blood of Jesus. For the same reason, it is at this cross 
 that our fears are most removed. Faith, hope and love 
 mingle their tribute just here. Terror cannot abide 
 where the Son of the Highest is seen dying for our sins. 
 All the unworthy fears of awakened sinners arise from 
 their keeping away from the Cross. Bring your hearts 
 hither, and your apprehensions will depart, like birds of 
 night at the dawning. 
 
 3. Perfect love casts out fear, because it is of the 
 very nature of love to promote confidence. The princi- 
 ple is familiar. Select your instances where you please, 
 and you shall find this gentle, generous passion always 
 trustful. I have heard of jealousy as the ofispring of 
 love ; I never beHeved it. This foul spirit comes of 
 pride, selfishness and envy. True love rests on the ob- 
 ject beloved, with all the repose of certainty ; even in 
 human attachments. But when the soul flows forth 
 towards infinite perfection and eternal love, it can no 
 more suspect than it can hate. The same state of mind 
 which looks to God with admiration and gratitude, 
 looks to him with hope. Those fears, which we must 
 entertain towards an enemy, or an untried friend, would 
 be treacherous towards one who commands our su- 
 preme attachment. The more childlike your affection, 
 
LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 3^5 
 
 the fuller your confidence. The child in the mother's 
 arms has its little heart poisoned by no misgivings as 
 to the power or will of that mother to do it good. As 
 Httle can the renewed soul, while in the exercise of love 
 to God, harbour any slavish terrors. Let it ascend 
 higher in its contemplations of divine excellence, and in 
 the flight of its adventurous admiration ; let it expa- 
 tiate upon this ocean of magnificent beauty and awful 
 grace ; let it become so lost in the abundance of these 
 attributes as to forget self altogether ; let it surrender 
 itself a captive, smitten by the celestial fascinations of 
 immutable and endless Wisdom, Might, Piuity, Recti- 
 tude, Truth and Grace ; let it enter into the bleeding 
 chamber where these are all blended in the dying Im- 
 manuel ; and here, where love is reigning, it will feel 
 that Pear is cast out. Hope meanwhile spreads the 
 untiring wing, and sets forth upon the eternal flight. 
 
 In these three ways, then, we observe love casting 
 out fear ; as founded on just views of God ; as caused 
 by belief of God's love to us ; and as, of its very nature, 
 leading to confidence. 
 
 XIV. Now let us hasten towards our close by press- 
 ing this, as the grand import of the text : that the more 
 love the less fear. If there is no love, then fear is domi- 
 nant. If there is Httle love, there is great fear. If love 
 is flickering and inconstant, there is perpetual iaterrup- 
 tion from doubt and terror. If love to God is gaining 
 the upper hand, and even by many blows and hard 
 conflicts coming to abide in love, then the habit of mis- 
 
315 LOVE CASTma out fear. 
 
 giving and apprehension is broken, and, as we often 
 observe, even in chambers of illness and old age, the 
 expectation of heaven becomes in a measure constant. 
 Does not all this reveal a certain line of direction, a ten- 
 dency, a rising towards perfection ? If the love could 
 at any moment become sinless, and drop its last weight, 
 how joyfully would the soul rise from the realm of 
 doubt, and leave all fears forever behind it ! Brethren,- 
 it shall so rise ! Presently this mortal shall put on im- 
 mortality, and death be swallowed up in victory. Our 
 imperfect views of God, even here, are the chief cor- 
 rective of fears ; but " when that which is perfect is 
 come, then that which is in part shall be done away." 
 Then wiU be brought to pass the saying, that " perfect 
 love casteth out fear." 
 
 There is a practical direction of great importance to 
 be derived from the doctrine which has occupied so un- 
 usual a portion of our thoughts this day. If you desire 
 to be rid of those fears which vex and disturb you, 
 seek to abound in the love of God. Give over those 
 fruitless endeavom's to calm your mind by perpetual 
 probing of its wounds, and brooding over its corrup- 
 tions. You knock at the wrong door, if you seek the 
 cure of fears from law. The Law has no such office. 
 The Law threatens wrath. The Law condemns and 
 slays. The shortest and surest way to be bold even 
 " in the day of judgment," is to " dwell in love." And 
 where did the beloved disciple learn this love, but on 
 the bosom of Jesus Christ ? One irradiation of love. 
 
LOVE CASTING OUT FEAR. 3]^^ 
 
 like the roseate tints of evening sky, suffuses this whole 
 epistle. These swan-lite notes befit the serene old age 
 of such an apostle. His great argument even against 
 the world is love. " If any man love the world, the 
 love of the Father is not in him." " He that loveth 
 not, knoweth not God, for God is love." " In this was 
 manifested the love of God toward us, because that 
 God sent his Only-Begotten Son into the world, that 
 we might five through him." iv. 9. The lesson is 
 learnt of Christ ; and Christ is apprehended by faith. 
 All your doubtings will give way before just apprehen- 
 sions of gospel grace. If you are still harassed, still 
 in occasional darkness and tremor, it shows that you 
 still entertain some erroneous views of Christ and his 
 work. Ptirge out this leaven of the Pharisees. Come 
 to the Redeemer for a whole salvation. Add no jot or 
 tittle of your own. See the things that are freely given 
 you of God. Love him that first loved you, and while 
 you sink into his arms, and surrender aU to him, with 
 a joyful, absolute self-renunciation, let this confiding 
 love swell and abound, till every figment of distrust 
 shall be swept away. ' For, against every challenge, in 
 time or eternity, this may be your rejoinder : " He that 
 spared not his own Son, but delivered him up for us 
 all ; how shall he not, with him, also freely give us all 
 things ! " 
 
XIV. 
 
 THE YOUNG AMEEICAN CHRISTIAN 
 
THE YOUNG AMEKICAN CHRISTIAN* 
 
 1 COEINTHIANS Xvi. 13. 
 
 " "Watch ye, stand fast in the faith, quit you like men, be strong." 
 
 We live at a time when our ears have again become 
 famihar with reports of warfare. It is easy therefore 
 for us to imagine a general surveying his forces as they 
 disembark from their transports upon a foreign shore. 
 If now we should suppose him, as commanders are 
 wont to do, about to harangu.e his troops, what would 
 suggest itself as his most welcome mode of address ? 
 Shall he say to them, " Soldiers, I rejoice to inform you 
 that you are about to experience no struggles nor blood- 
 shed ; no battle awaits you ; all enemies have vanished 
 from the land." Assuredly not, you reply. This were 
 to insult their valour and mock their expectations. It is 
 
 * ITew York, January 28, 1855. 
 21 
 
322 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 
 
 for conflict that the soldier girds himself; and especially 
 to youthful enterprise and courage there is invitation in 
 the sound of the trumpet, and incitement in the call to 
 arms. Nor can the Christian combatant go through 
 liis campaign without hardship and blows. The Apostle 
 Paul therefore addresses youthful Timothy thus : " Thou 
 therefore endure hardness, as a good soldier of Jesus 
 Christ;" or thus : "Tight the good fight of faith, lay 
 hold on eternal life, whereunto thou art called, and 
 hast witnessed a good profession before many wit- 
 nesses ; " or thus : " Thou therefore, my son, be strong in 
 the grace that is in Christ Jesus." All these are warn- 
 ings of that opposition, contest, and difficult struggle 
 which fall to the lot of the believer, and for which much 
 force of resistance and assault is required. In the text 
 this idea is manifestly present, and the Christian war- 
 rior is addressed in terms which sound of the camp and 
 the army : " Watch ye," be awake, on your guard ; 
 vigilantly looking out for the enemy, armed at every 
 point, prepared against every surprise, sensible of your 
 danger and your weakness, and forewarned against your 
 malignant and insidious enemy. " Stand fast in the 
 faith ; " know the truth, beheve it, believe it strongly ; 
 chng to it, against all ridicule, loss, and persecution ; 
 be firm and constant in adherence to Christ, the great 
 object of faith, and source of power. " Quit you like 
 men ; " the result of vigilance and assured faith ; act 
 the manly part. Thus Joab said to his party on a 
 noted occasion : *' Be of good courage, and let us play 
 
THE TOTING AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 323 
 
 the men for our people, and for the cities of our God," 
 2 Sam. X. 12. Exhibit the high intrepid bearing which 
 becomes Christians, acting in the name and for the 
 honour of their Redeemer and King. " Be strong ; " 
 go out to this warfare with full confidence in divine 
 aid ; be strong in the Lord and in the power of his 
 might ; be stout-hearted and valiant, and by this be 
 successful and victorious. 
 
 The topic seems peculiarly suitable to young Chris- 
 tians ; and for their sakes I would deduce from these 
 words the value of an earnest, manly and courageous 
 
 CHRISTIANITY. 
 
 As in Christ Jesus there is neither male nor female, 
 the subject belongs not only to Christian men but to 
 Christian women ; yet as I appear before a society of 
 young men, and as in all aggressive movements it is 
 they who must take the lead, the remarks which follow 
 shall be directed towards the consideration of this vigor- 
 ous rehgion as existing in young men. Reasons will 
 appear in the sequel, why we may lawfully single out 
 such a portion of the race as that which, speaking in 
 general terms, is destined to survive ; and why we are 
 justified in still further narrowing the field, by address- 
 ing our admonitions primarily to those who profess the 
 faith of Christ, as the class contemplated by the text, 
 and as that which must be the source of influence to 
 its coevals. 
 
 If we might have all wishes in one, we could wish 
 nothing better, nothing greater, than that the youth now 
 
324 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 
 
 growing up should be cast into the right mould. A 
 present generation, duly trained in boyhood and adoles- 
 cence, will make a coming generation of men, (I wish 
 our otherwise rich English had two words, as most 
 other languages have, to express the thought,) of men, 
 who shall stand in the battle. Of poor sauntering 
 triflers, in human shape and men's apparel, we have 
 enough ; of literary Sybarites, bred on stories, fugitive 
 poetry and monthly magazines; of minute scholars, 
 glorying in the niceties of metre and accent, coUege 
 honours, and other tongues ; of dressed creatures that 
 sweeten soirees and playhouses with their odours ; of 
 things that flutter and die in the hght of fashion, as 
 moths about a lamp ; of religious professors that almost 
 ask leave to serve Christ of the sons of Belial who sur- 
 round them ; more than enough have we of such young 
 Americans, aping every effete custom and appropriating 
 every fungous abuse of the old countries, and spoiled 
 tenfold worse by every voyage and travel abroad, so 
 that they blush at the marks of an American as much 
 as their fathers would have gloried in the same ; more 
 than enough of young men whose everlasting discourse 
 is of the last amusement or the last scandal. But of 
 MEN, spirits in earnest, souls that have an aim, bent to- 
 wards some object, and that a great one ; bearing and 
 doing, training themselves by toil, by temperance, by 
 self-denial, by prayer, for the benefit of the greatest 
 number, it must be confessed with lamentation that we 
 have but few. And if, as we suppose, the times which 
 
THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 325 
 
 are coming on the eartli will demand sucli men, strong 
 to do and strong to suffer, our only mode of providing 
 them is to deal with the young, and to pour the plastic 
 masses into the shaping mould. 
 
 Our Saviour long smce taught us that the children 
 of this world are wiser in their generation than the 
 children of light. Worldly governments, cabinets and 
 and war-bureaus are wiser and more provident than 
 the church. The great contemporary drama in the 
 Crimea teaches us a hundred mighty lessons ; and I 
 mar\^el, that at such a time there should be people empty 
 and heartless enough to crave, in vulgar playhouses, the 
 excitement or diversion of stale mimicry, mouthed by 
 despicable players whom they would refuse admittance 
 at their doors, or the provocative displays of semi-nude 
 dances, at which a Roman matron would have blushed 
 ' celestial rosy red;' at such a time, I say, when great 
 tragic actions of. real hfe and real death are held forth 
 to view in that more than Trojan peril and endurance 
 imder the walls of Sebastopol. Go thither, ye poor 
 effeminate drawing-room Christians, ye carpet-knights 
 of a chivalry whose sword is lath and whose shield is 
 pasteboard ; go and learn what men can do and dare, 
 when they are warmed by a grand motive. Behold 
 them bleeding in the charge, behold them, harder yet, 
 languishing to death in the wet and fatal trenches. On 
 either side, see the fruits of true manly valour. What 
 assault will they not venture, what privation will they 
 not endure ? " Now they do it to obtain a corruptible 
 
326 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 
 
 crown, but we an incorruptible." Our own American 
 youth, we know, would do the like in any cause which 
 interested them, that is, in any earthly cause. In a 
 single hom% if our city were invaded, thousands of such 
 as hear me would rally to any call of the country ; and 
 however unprepared by training, abstinence, and dis- 
 cipline, would do their best and die in doing it. But 
 stm the inquiry returns, why these and similar displays 
 of manly virtue and self-sacrifice are so much limited 
 to earthly hazards and conflicts? Why should the 
 children of this world still put to shame the children of 
 light ? Why do we seldom behold a phalanx of trained 
 Christians going forth, stately and irresistible, to the 
 help of the Lord against the mighty ? Are there no 
 great interests at stake ? Have we nothing as potent 
 to stir the blood as the taking of a redoubt or the 
 silencing of a battery? Can the great passions be 
 moved only by reven*ge, bloodshed, crime ? Ah, no, 
 my hearers. History can show, even though experience 
 should be dumb; history can show that there have 
 been days when the Christian host was animated by a 
 fire such as never had its equal in conquering armies. 
 The principles of the faith have a stimulating and em- 
 boldening power, which, as you well know, was in past 
 ages irresistible in the view of Gentile and afterwards 
 of Antichristian foes. Just recall, for a moment, the 
 earliest progress of Christianity, and consider what sort 
 of men were engaged in that army. Only close stu- 
 dents of church history do justice to the rapidity of this 
 
THE YOUXG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 327 
 
 conquest. From Jerusalem, Antioch, Corinth, Alexan- 
 dria, and Rome, as bases of operation, the hosts went 
 forth almost simultaneously to the frontiers of the known 
 world. The celerity of Alexander's famous marches was 
 outstripped by Apostles of whom no record exists, who 
 carried the cross into realms of whose myriad converts 
 no registers remain. There is this in which the sacra- 
 mental host differs from other armies; every soldier 
 feels the genuine impulse. The Russian, French, or 
 British private, though drilled to a mechanical exactness 
 of evolution and practice, and hardened to a bulldog 
 ferocity, may partake little individually of those patriotic, 
 ambitious or dutiful sentiments which glow in the soul 
 of great leaders. But in the church miUtant every 
 missionary and every confessor and every martyr was 
 individually able to give a reason of the hope that was 
 in him ; and when the Greek slave or the Roman boy 
 or the Hebrew maid was brought before proconsuls and 
 princes, they were as clear in their testimony of what 
 they suffered for, even if not so able to argue on it, as 
 a Paul or an ApoHos. It will never do to ascribe the 
 unmanly supineness and apathy of many Christian 
 young men of our times, to any want of animating sen- 
 timent in Christianity. 
 
 If the Reformation did no more, it taught us, that 
 among the cinders of that old altar there lay coals of 
 fire which needed but the stirring and the heavenly 
 breath, to make them flame up to heaven. All the 
 stories of romance wither and seem insipid when com- 
 
328 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 
 
 pared with Reformation history. You cannot read an 
 hour about Luther, Calvin, Zwingle, Melancthon, Knox, 
 or Melvill, without feehng that you are communing 
 with men. They had something to Hve for. They had 
 some principles to die for. There were doctrines at 
 stake. It is a symptom of the wretched, flaccid, pulse- 
 less condition of sundry in our day, that they never 
 speak of theology, of catechisms, of doctrinal sermons, 
 but with a sneer. The rehgion which they would hke, 
 if indeed they have thought enough to know their own 
 mind, would be aU sentimentality and all softness. 
 Their weakened mental organs reject the strong meat. 
 Know ye, O my beloved young friends, that manly 
 bone, sinew and muscle, do not form themselves on the 
 emollient regimen of a Christianity without doctrine. 
 The men who of old went to the stake, went for doc- 
 trines ;. these doctrines they had learnt in the Scriptures, 
 elaborated in meditation, methodized in system, preached 
 to hstening thousands, digested in the succinct formu- 
 las of definition, and left for us, their children, in 
 those permanent crystals of the Reformed Catechisms, 
 which are scoffed at by amiable wits and religious petit 
 maitres. Men, mew; who can stand fast in the faith, 
 who can stand alone, who have vertebral columns, who 
 can bear, who can forbear, who can advance, who on 
 due summons can strike, men armed with the armour 
 of righteousness on the right hand and on the left, 
 that is, with sword and shield, are bred in great study 
 of God's Word, and great famiharity with those high 
 
THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 329 
 
 evangelic truths whicli are the motive powers of the 
 spiritual universe. And this partly answers the ques- 
 tion we have raised about the paucity of Christian 
 soldiers, who seem to be in earnest, as earthly soldiers 
 are in earnest. So that the way is prepared for stating 
 two great means of promoting Christian courage and 
 strength. 
 
 I. The source of manly earnestness is truth be- 
 lieved. It is so in trade, agriculture, mechanics, and 
 warfare ; why should it be less so in rehgion ? The cry- 
 ing sin of our young men in the church is voluntary 
 ignorance ; ignorance of theological truth in its definite 
 expression and just connexion. How can they hope 
 the fire to bum, when they will not take the time or 
 trouble to lay on fuel ? The most intense heat, and 
 consequently the most powerful action, proceed from 
 deep inward conviction of religious truth, derived from 
 laborious study of the Scripture. 
 
 I foresee your reply : you have no time. The age 
 is so active, city engagements are so numerous, in a 
 word, you are so busy, that you cannot improve your 
 minds. Now, if this were a sound answer, we might 
 dismiss you at once as hopeless, and say, we expect 
 from you nothing great, nothing steadfast, since all that 
 is elevated and memorable results from improvement of 
 the mind. But this is altogether an evasion. No man 
 who is not a slave is too busy 'to make himself a 
 thorough religious scholar, that is, to lay up within him 
 the formative elements of manly power. Your engage- 
 
330 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 
 
 ments, we will suppose, are very great ; but are you 
 more busy tban David, who had a kingdom on his 
 hands, which he successfully guided in war and peace, 
 and yet found time to meditate on Scripture, and con- 
 tribute some noble parts towards its completion ? Are 
 you more busy than Paul, a traveller by land and sea, 
 a preacher, author and apostle, whose entire life was a 
 series of lofty deeds and heroic sufferings; and who 
 yet was deeply conversant with the Bible? Are you 
 more busy than Martin Luther, who preached almost 
 daily, whose correspondence equalled that of a minis- 
 ter of state, and whose pubhshed books almost make a 
 library of themselves ; yet who daily and profoundly 
 pondered on the Word of Inspiration? Nay, there 
 have been men in every calling and profession, including 
 your own, who amidst full and prosperous worldly em- 
 ployment, have redeemed hours to work the mine of 
 Holy Learning. Bacon, Grotius, Sir Isaac Newton, 
 and Chief Justice Hale, may show what philosophers 
 and statesmen have been able to bestow on the sacred 
 records. The truth, drawn out of the Scriptures and 
 made the matter of Uvely faith, is that which wakes up 
 and fortifies the character. And the cause of prevail- 
 ing frivolity, vacillation and inefficiency, among certain 
 well-disposed young persons, is, that there is nothing 
 which they can be said to beheve with all the heart. 
 We may smile at the Commonwealth-man and the 
 Scots Covenanter, for the sourness of their visages ; but 
 those stern dark faces showed hke lanterns from the 
 
THE TOXJKG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 33]^ 
 
 torch of conviction within ; and mighty faith gave them 
 earnestness of heart and strength of arm. One secret 
 of their fortitude and energy and daring is fomid in 
 the pocket Bible which each of them carried to the 
 field, which he rehgiously read in camp, and which was 
 often found next the heart when his dead body was 
 carried from the field. The Book of God, when it is 
 the one book, makes strong characters. Read it, study 
 it, ponder over it ; be not content, my young friends, to 
 go over so much daily as a task, or to snatch a passage 
 in the hurry of an odd moment ; but lay yourself out to 
 accomphsh a thorough investigation of its contents, to 
 acquaint yourself with its order, structure and har- 
 mony, to grapple with its difiiculties, to systematize its 
 truths, and to enrich your memory with its golden sen- 
 tences. This is possible, seeing it is but one volume. 
 Thousands have done so, and amidst difficulties as nu- 
 merous and pressing as yours. Hundreds of Scottish 
 peasants and day-labourers are at this very moment well 
 instructed scribes unto the kingdom of God. And it 
 vnR be a happy day for our American churches, when 
 young persons of both sexes shall place the study of 
 the Bible at the very head of all their intellectual pur- 
 suits. Then shall we see a race, able as well as wiUing 
 to cope with the wily Jesuit and confound the boasting 
 Atheist. Then shall that life and buoyant activity, 
 which the vital current of holy truth keeps up, manifest 
 themselves in the very portion of society where improve- 
 ment is most hopeful. 
 
332 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 
 
 II. If we look again for some solution of our mor- 
 tifying problem, we shall find another cause of the 
 tameness, irresolution and flight of our common re- 
 Hgious combatants, in the want of devotional habits. 
 True manly strength in religion is nurtured at the 
 mercy-seat and at the foot of the Cross. The appear- 
 ance of zeal may be put on for a little while, but per- 
 manent vigour must have a perennial source ; and the 
 spring-head must be within. No external activity, 
 though pushed to the utmost, can make up for the 
 want of closet devotion. This is just the point, where 
 the electric attachment with heaven is effected. Here 
 the fire comes down from above. If we would learn 
 how Ehjah, Daniel, Paul, Augustine, Luther, White- 
 field, Martyn, Payson, and Judson, came to quit them- 
 selves like men, we must accompany them to their 
 wrestUng prayers. Nor are ministers of the Gospel 
 alone to be imitated ; scholars, soldiers, merchants, have 
 learnt this secret of strength, and have thus found a 
 treasury of courage, hope, and success, which the world 
 never suspected. My beloved young brethren, the 
 world has already half-destroyed us, when we are too 
 busy to pray. Better forego food or rest, especially 
 better forego any amount of profit, than learn to Hve 
 without communion with God in devotion. Let the 
 Mohammedan muezzin, from his tower beside the 
 mosque, penetrate our conscience, when he cries aloud, 
 at daybreak, through all the lands of Islam, JPrayer is 
 better than sleep ! Frayer is better than sleep I 
 
THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 33^ 
 
 But the great matter to be pressed is unconnected 
 with prescribed times or forms ; and the great question 
 to be asked is, Do I habitually maintain a confidential 
 intercourse with my Lord and Redeemer in acts of 
 heavenly communion ? If yea, then the channel of 
 strengthening influences being open, there will infallibly 
 be boldness and sufficiency for the conflict of life. If 
 nay, weakness, inconsistency, and defeat must ensue. 
 
 The reason why the two things just mentioned pro- 
 mote manly strength in the Christian character, is that 
 by the word of God and prayer, more than by all other 
 ordinary means, we maintain conscious union with God, 
 the fountain of all power. Here we perceive the con- 
 nexion between an inward spiritual piety and an out- 
 ward aggression and triumph. No longer need we dis- 
 sever the contemplative and the active, in life ; one is 
 the source of the other. When some mighty cataract 
 bursts over its wall of mountain-rock, we are not to for- 
 get that the flood has been gathering force and volume 
 in a long preceding flow. So also the visible activity of 
 an enterprising Christian is to be traced to months and 
 years of secret converse with God. 
 
 The more the balance is disturbed by worldly ex- 
 citement and external bustle in the daily calling, the 
 more there is need of this preponderating weight of 
 home-rehgion and closet-quietude, to regulate the other- 
 wise jarring motions, like the fly-wheel or the governor 
 in an engine. The recluse student and the seden- 
 tary woman require this peculiar disciphne of silence 
 
334 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 
 
 and shade far less than the man of business, who from 
 morning till night scarcely redeems a moment for stated 
 reflection. He must, by stern resolution and self-de- 
 nial, gain some hour to hear God speak, and to speak 
 to God, or he will inevitably shrink and wither down 
 mto the every-day worldly professor ; who is bold at a 
 bargain and cowardly in faith; earnest on week-days and 
 half asleep on the Sabbath; indefatigable in trade-labours 
 an3 unheard-of in operations for Christ's kingdom or his 
 poor ; hot upon 'Change and ice-cold in Church. 
 
 But the subject is too awful for satire. . We need, 
 in degrees beyond all power of expression we need, men 
 Tvdth blood in their hearts, who shall be as courageous, 
 as unflinching, as diligent, and as hopeful in the concerns 
 of God, as hundreds are daily seen to be in the con- 
 cerns of the world. We need not pause to show how 
 immediate would be the effect on Christians and on 
 society, if a general outburst of such zeal and effort 
 should be witnessed in our day. And therefore we 
 may at once proceed to the important truth, that the 
 only hope of such an event must be founded on the in- 
 crease of manly piety in the young. Unless those who 
 are now ductile can take the image and superscription 
 of such an earnestness, the next generation wiU be no 
 stronger or nobler than the present. Mournful as the 
 declaration is, it is not to be disguised, that we who, in 
 our march, have turned the crest of life, and whose 
 journey is westward and down the hill, have already 
 taken our habit and character. We may regret the 
 
THE YOUXG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 335 
 
 past, but changes for the better, though possible 
 through grace, are not likely to be numerous or remark- 
 able. And then, our career is chiefly run, and all that 
 remains must take much of its colour from the good or 
 evil of our better days. Strength of manly Christianity 
 for the time that is coming must have its foundations 
 laid in the youth of the present time. In this view of 
 the subject, it is pleasant to consider that we of the 
 more aged party are the minority, and our number is 
 lessening very rapidly ; while you, young men, are nu- 
 merous, a reinforcement fresh and vigorous, ready to 
 step into our places. May God grant you grace to 
 wage this warfare more valiantly and successfully than 
 we have done ! Our best hopes for the Church of the 
 future, under God, is in what we descry of promise in 
 young Christians. Unless we depend on miracle and 
 supernatural intervention, the progress of rehgion for 
 the next twenty or thirty years wiU be according to the 
 knowledge, piety and ardour of the youthful levies into 
 our grand army. And this ought to be a powerful in- 
 ducement to every ingenuous and public-spirited young 
 man, whatever may be his vocation, to aim at a higher 
 measure of devotion and love, than he has been accus- 
 tomed to see in his companions. 
 
 Consider what kind of Christian character and con- 
 duct must be demanded by the period about to dawn. 
 Deliberately ask yourselves, is not manly earnestness in 
 Christ's cause especially required for the times which 
 are coming upon the earth ? " Watch ye," says the 
 
336 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 
 
 text. It is a word of command, as when a guard is 
 turned out ; the mihtary order to keep awake, because 
 dangers are imminent and foes are expected. Watch 
 TE. It calls the young men of America to mount the 
 walls and reconnoitre the field. And no one who has 
 at all kept abreast of the signs of the times can give a 
 glance toward the future, without starting up aroused 
 and earnest at the probabihties of trying times and 
 new emergencies, which will call for stout hearts and 
 strong hands. The combination of omens during a few 
 years naturally leads reflective patriots and Christians 
 to search afresh into the prophetic oracles ; and both 
 Providence and the Word teach us to await a period in 
 which a robust Christianity shall have all its nerve 
 brought to the test. Wo to the young man who goes 
 up to this battle with weak and sickly habit, with slen- 
 der faith and with waning love ! On what side can we 
 look, without recognising the tokens of approaching 
 commotion ? We thought, in our simplicity, that wars 
 were almost obsolete ; but the gathering tread of the ten 
 thousands in the Tauric peninsula, and the dead by dis- 
 ease and sword, correct our mistake. The tides of our 
 own American politics no longer run smooth ; and the 
 controversies are as novel as they are momentous, so 
 that we know not even at home what a day may bring 
 forth. Elements stir in our bosom which may be thrown 
 out with volcanic eruption on any one of several ques- 
 tions, domestic and foreign. Then we are not so far 
 from the old hemisphere as once we were. Directly or 
 
THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. 337 
 
 indirectly, the present European, or more truly Eastern 
 war, may, as a remote consequence, involve our own 
 national peace. Nay, a revolution in remote Asia may 
 prove very soon to be not merely between Chinese and 
 Mantchou, or between autocracy and revolt, but be- 
 tween error and truth, between BeUal and Christ, be- 
 tween persecuting outlawry of missions and the unex- 
 ampled diffusion of the Gospel in that vast empire. An 
 earnest mind will also pray for triple strength and triple 
 manhood, in considering the fortunes of Rome, and 
 the probable contest between America and the Pope. 
 Wars and rumours of wars will possibly be accompanied 
 or followed, in some lands, by infidel and popish perse- 
 cutions ; and so the sons of those present will need to 
 be strong in the Lord and in the power of his might. 
 Different as our interpretations of prophecy and our 
 prognostications may be, there is, I suppose, no one 
 among us, who looks for a quiet time, halcyon days, an 
 Augustan age of art and letters and gentle luxury, for 
 our immediate descendants. No prophet am I ; but 
 when I look intently on my sons, and on you my dear 
 young parishioners, I seem to myself Hke one who hears 
 and sees tokens of a sifting, and a shaking, and a suf- 
 fering dispensation. " I am pained," cried Jeremiah to 
 an incredulous people ; " I am pained at my very heart : 
 my heart maketh a noise in me ; I cannot hold my 
 peace, because thou hast heard, my soul, the sound 
 of the trumpet, the alarm of war ! " And we also, in 
 the midst of subterranean concussions and trumpet 
 22 
 
338 THE YOUNG AMERICAN CHRISTIAN. . 
 
 calls, think of possible convulsions and trials of fortitude, 
 and desire for those who come after us a Christianity 
 in earnest. 
 
 Bejvien, therefore, in knowledge, in faith, in self-de- 
 nial, in endurance, in effort, in diligence, in perseverance, 
 in love. Or to comprehend it in a word, " Be ye holy." 
 That which contributes to your inward piety will secure 
 your strength. As has been already said, no increase 
 of outward labour, no pragmatical hurrying from toil 
 to toil, no forwardness of mere act, no almsgiving or 
 other beneficence, will certainly make you mighty men 
 of God. All these may exist where grace is low or even 
 absent. But devoted attention to the Word and prayer 
 will do it ; faith and vigilance and love will do it ; 
 communion with a dying Saviour will do it ; the " unc- 
 tion from the Holy One'' will do it. Let me vehe- 
 mently exhort you to seek a Christian experience 
 higher, broader and deeper than we, your predecessors 
 and teachers, have exhibited ; or than you observe in 
 the religious world around you. Eor if Christ intends 
 great blessings for the next age, it is hkely that he will 
 pour a three-fold anointing on the young men of this. 
 Happy shall be the Evangelist of that period, a period 
 thus resembling the primitive and apostolical days, who 
 shall feel free to say ; " I write unto you, young men, 
 because ye have overcome the wicked one ; I have writ- 
 ten unto you, young men, because ye are strong, and the 
 Word of God abideth in you, and ye have overcoQie 
 the wicked one." 1 John ii. 13, 14. 
 
XV. 
 
 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 
 
 A CHARITY SllRMON. 
 
DAILY SERVICE OP CHRIST * 
 
 Matt, xxv, 37. 
 
 "Then shall the righteous. answer him, saying, Lord, when saw we 
 thee an hungered, and fed thee ? or thirsty, and gave thee drink ? 
 When saw we thee a stranger, and took thee in ? or naked, and 
 clothed thee ? Or when saw we thee sick, or in prison, and came 
 unto thee?" ' 
 
 Out of this divine picture of the groups around the 
 last Tribunal, let us take a single point, detaching it 
 from the rest. The modesty, humility, and self-forget- 
 folness of the righteous, shall introduce what we have 
 to say on a matter of great importance. The good 
 deeds of their hfe they scarcely recognise as having 
 been such. They seem to forget that which God re- 
 members, even their works of mercy. Certainly these 
 blessed of the Father, brethren of the Son, and heirs of 
 the Kingdom, do not belong to the class who trumpet 
 
 * New York, June 13, 1858. 
 
342 ^-^^^ SERVICE OF CHRIST. 
 
 their alms and rear monuments to their own goodness. 
 Having done good by stealth, they blush to find it 
 fame. Christ's applauses surprise them, and at an hour 
 when the faces of millions on the left are gathering black- 
 ness, their cheeks are suffused with ingenuous blushing. 
 They stand amazed that the Son of Man, now come in 
 his glory with all the holy angels, should so overwhelm 
 their trifling services with a glorious reward. Nay, 
 they can hardly recollect any service at all. The minis- 
 tries were so trifling, and were bestowed on objects so in- 
 considerable, often with such mixture of bad motives, 
 and such deficiency of good, that it amazes them to 
 find every transient item legible in the book of the 
 Judge, now seated upon the throne of his glory. Such 
 is the representation given by our Lord himself, of the 
 feeUngs with -which a righteous man will receive the 
 gracious award. 
 
 Now, in parabohc sayings of this kind, no one will 
 expect exactness of recital, as to the very words uttered 
 before the throne. It is enough that we catch the great 
 lessons breathed by the spirit of the passage. Every 
 true servant saved by grace, wiU discover " at that day," 
 how momentous have been the consequences of acts too 
 small to be remembered. He will see, that a righteous 
 man may have been continually putting forth uncon- 
 scious influence; may have been ministering to his 
 Master, when his mind was busied chiefly about his 
 brethren ; and that, while he sought the gratification of 
 a benevolent heart, he may have rendered a service 
 
DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 343 
 
 honourable and grateful to his Lord. Among the nu- 
 merous teachings, therefore, of this magnificent vision, 
 one may suffice for the present occasion. It is this : 
 
 No ONE CAN ESTIMATE THE AMOUNT OF SERVICE REN- 
 DERED TO Christ in apparently little things. 
 
 To trace this current of good deeds to its source, is 
 not difficult. Wherever there is regeneration, there is 
 love to Christ. Wherever love to Christ exists, it pres- 
 ently shows its fruits, in love to the brethren. The 
 connexion is pubhcly owned by Him, who, pointing to 
 the right, says, " These, my brethren." Benevolence, 
 thus dnected, leads to beneficence. True Christians do 
 *'not love in word, neither in tongue, but in deed and 
 in truth." " Love unfeigned " is perpetually passing 
 into act, with regard to every member of Christ who 
 can be reached. The Lord Jesus vouchsafes to receive 
 every such benefit rendered to any one of his people as 
 conferred upon himself. And lest there should be a 
 misgiving on this point, as if our Lord took account 
 only of favours bestowed on distinguished disciples, he 
 expressly instances the most inconsiderable. " And the 
 King (the introduction of which title just here, merits 
 our particular notice) shall answer and say unto them. 
 Verily, I say unto you, inasmuch as ye have done it 
 unto one of the least of these iny brethren, ye have 
 done it unto me." No act of kindness, even the small- 
 est, is unobserved or disregarded by our Ejng. He 
 says in his heart of every such act : " It is done to me." 
 Yet the passage before 'us shows, that he who puts 
 
344 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 
 
 forth this act of bounty or mercy may entirely lose 
 sight of its terminating on any object greater than the 
 sufferer whom he relieves ; indeed, even at the moment 
 of rehef, he may not explicitly own the reference of the 
 act to Christ. One may therefore really minister to his 
 Redeemer, when his soul is chiefly taken up with some 
 Lazarus at the gate, or some wounded wretch left by 
 robbers on the road to Jericho. The Master, never- 
 theless, accounts the deed as done to himself. 
 
 That we are to do all things " to the glory of God," 
 and " in the name of the Lord Jesus," is fixed in the 
 minds of all believers, by two remarkable maxims. But 
 conscientious inquirers sometimes doubt whether any 
 acts can be justly said to have this quality and inten- 
 tion, unless there be a distinct view of the Lord, as the 
 object to whom the service is rendered. Doubtless, a 
 view thus distinct is good, and much to be desired, 
 since we cannot too much place our blessed Master be- 
 fore the mind, as the end of all our actions. At the 
 same time, the passage which we are considering shows 
 that, provided we be in a state of grace, we may be 
 feeding, refreshing, lodging and visiting the Son of 
 God, when, to our own apprehension, we are only com- 
 forting the hungry, thirsty, homeless,, or imprisoned 
 brother-man. And this is sustaining, in no common 
 degree, to those who consider the limitations of human 
 thought, and the small scope of many sincere minds, 
 which cannot look far beyond what is nearest to them, 
 especially when they add the cheering truth, that of 
 
DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 345 
 
 such acts, which Jesus will thus own, there are thou- 
 sands in the calendar of any one Christian year. In- 
 deed, in this way, a true follower of Christ fills up his 
 life. The new nature is continually working its way 
 outwards, according to the various objects which invite 
 its flow ; and benevolence, inspired of God, seeks new 
 ways of communicating happiness, even in the smallest 
 particulars. Nor are these effluences of the sanctified 
 nature, in the way of kindly acts, the less Christian, 
 even if at the moment of performance the happy spirit 
 does not distinctly think of its being done to Christ 
 himself. The inward spring is perpetually running, 
 marking its track by the green margin which it irrigates. 
 A kind, merciful, unselfish heart is always looking 
 around for some one to be the object of its care ; and 
 love is the same in its kind, when it gives a kingdom, 
 and when it gives a flower. The clean raiment, gently 
 laid beside the pauper's bed by the modest hand of a 
 child, is as honourable in God's sight as the thousands 
 builded into marble. This internal principle of good- 
 will, in a soul created anew after the image of the Di- 
 vine beneficence, acts itself out to aU the human species 
 of whatsoever religion, language, condition, creed, or 
 colour ; and even makes itself known towards the lower 
 animals, and all sentient beings. " A righteous man 
 regardeth the life of his beast ; but the tender mercies 
 of the wicked are cruel." 
 
 We must nevertheless return to the brotherhood, 
 the members of Christ, as the chosen objects of charity, 
 
346 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 
 
 affectionate care, and seasonable help. As we have op- 
 portunity, we do good to all men, but specially to those 
 who are of the household of faith. The image of our 
 Lord is in our poor neighbour, and we love it, even 
 when we are not thinking of the reward which He will 
 bestow. The very name of Christ, even where the 
 image is obscured or dim, or not in any way apparent, 
 goes fox something in our esteem. Thus we honour 
 the supposed signature of a friend, until we discover it 
 to be forged. In foreign, and especially in unbeheving 
 lands, the heart thrills towards one who is even nom- 
 inaQy a Christian. Suppose we are mistaken ; suppose 
 we do a kindness to one who is undeserving; what 
 then ? Christ is deserving, and we did it in his name. 
 It is marvellous what conscience some people make of 
 never giving an alms amiss ; as if it were the greatest of 
 blunders to confer an irregular kindness on some poor 
 suffering creature, not so good as they ; as if charity 
 were the only mode of erroneous outlay ; as if every 
 superfluity of their wardrobe, every extravagant bauble 
 of their ornament, every costly rarity on their board, 
 did not go to run up an accomit of perverted steward- 
 ship, greater in the aggregate than all they ever bestow- 
 ed with their own hands upon the poor, right or wrong. 
 If you behold Christ in your supposed brother, you 
 honour Christ by the ministry, even if peradventure 
 you mistake the character of the beneficiary. God 
 only reads the heart. Those whom we doubt, and 
 whose profession we discredit, may have been held 
 
DAILY SERVICE OP CHRIST. 347 
 
 down by troubles and temptation, and may, in the sight 
 of the Allseeing, be as worthy as yourselves. If you 
 are " the children of your Father \yhich is m heaven," 
 you will remember that he maketh his sun to rise on 
 the evil and on the good, and sendeth rain on the just 
 and on the unjust. 
 
 My hearers, I would not reject from some semblance 
 of this brotherhood the vilest and worst of the sons of 
 Adam. Each is a man and a brother. The nature 
 which the Son of God assumed, in his incarnation, is 
 their nature also. They share in the very humanity 
 whi^h He took. There is a sense in which He " tasted 
 death for every man." There is an appHcability of this 
 death and its piacular fruits to every man. There is a 
 commandment that the glad news of this love shall be 
 preached to " all nations " and to " every creature." 
 There is therefore a unity of the whole species, not only 
 as the science of the world has demonstrated, in one 
 parental pair, but in the assumption of their very nature 
 by our Redeemer. And hence a true and scriptural 
 philanthropy seeks the happiness of man, as man, and 
 as claiming a human kindred with Him whom we love 
 and adore. While then we are unquestionably bound 
 to look with peculiar regard on those who are Christ's 
 inwardly and spiritually, by a vital union, we are no- 
 where urged to any solicitous inquisition, how good a 
 sufferer must be before we shall help him for Christ's 
 sake. And if we should be happy enough to wrest a 
 poor wretch from shipwreck, jail, or starvation, we do 
 
348- DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 
 
 not suppose our Lord will any the less remember the 
 tribute, if in the end it should turn out that the person, 
 far from being a decent church member, was no better 
 than she who broke the box of aromatics, or she to 
 whom the Master said, " Go, and sin no more." If we 
 imitate the divine goodness, let us never forget that 
 when God's saving mercy comes to us, it always finds 
 us unworthy. Whenever in the Scriptures we are ex- 
 horted to acts of beneficence, we are sent to the misera- 
 ble as miserable ; that is enough. Certification of desert, 
 especially of godliness, is not presupposed. " Blessed 
 is he that considereth the poor ; the Lord will deliver4iim 
 in time of trouble." Ps. xli. 1. And still more parallel : 
 " He that hath pity upon the poor lendeth unto the Lord : 
 and that which he hath given will he pay him again." 
 Prov. xix. 17. Jesus records the loan, and makes re- 
 muneration, even to him who cries astonished, "When 
 saw we thee poor and had pity on thee ? " 
 
 The very striking portion of the language used by 
 the redeemed which now occupies us, tends directly to 
 this point : that a servant of Christ may be performing 
 acts which the Lord accepts as benignantly as if termi- 
 nating on himself in person, when all the while the 
 humble happy servant, though habitually loving Christ, 
 was unconscious of more than the glow of love and pity 
 towards a fellow-creature. We do not say that refer- 
 ence to Jesus, the Chief-beloved, will not dart in, from 
 time to time, amidst the charities of life, Hke stray 
 sunbeams through the network of branches in shady 
 
DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 349 
 
 places of the grove ; such is always the heavenward 
 reference of regenerate souls ; but the rapid and almost 
 instinctive impulses of Christian kindness often leave no 
 time to look fully at anything but the famished, weep- 
 ing, or bleeding sufferer. It will be apparent, upon the 
 least reflection, that difference in degree or amount, the 
 more or less of the benefits conferred, makes no differ- 
 ence in the principle. Do any good, be it great or small, 
 to a brother of Christ, and you do it to Christ. What 
 new rays of encouragement are here shed over the 
 walks of Q\u: common hfe, which is made up of seeimng 
 trifles ! It is as if the Lord Jesus had come with his 
 hallowing presence, into the scenes of our daily occupa- 
 tion ; to sit beside our well, to tread the planks of our 
 fishing-boat, to smile on us with remonstrance when 
 cumbered with much serving. Nothing is small, which 
 the Master accepts as tribute. Little things become 
 great, when done in a great cause, and out of loyalty 
 to a great King. It is not the price, but the homage. 
 Only a sordid, mercenary, venal mind would prefer the 
 value of dollars and cents, accumulate the ciphers as 
 you please, to the value of a ring, a lock of hair, a word 
 of hearty postscript, an old tear-stained Bible, marked 
 all through its tattered pages, a smile of love, a dying 
 kiss. These are life's imponderables, which are also 
 invaluables. The cup of cold water, in the name of a 
 disciple, refreshes the soul of the Master and has his 
 sure reward. The two mites of the widow (less than 
 the cost of three sparrows) go for more than the thou- 
 
350 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 
 
 sands of the opulent. The heart is all. The giver 
 stamps the gift, and the intention defines the giver. 
 So Hkewise in. regard to the person benefited; little 
 things, we may say again, become great, when done in 
 behalf of Christ's "little ones." And these ar6 con- 
 tinually about us. The poor we have always with us ; 
 and God hath chosen the poor rich in faith. Ostenta- 
 tious charities, of great figures, performed by proxy, 
 should never take the place of personal kindnesses, 
 though known only to God and the recipient. 
 
 Life is so ordered in providence, that what we call 
 great deeds occur only now and then. Even princes 
 and conquerors cannot be always magnificent. Espe- 
 cially we, who are not distinguished, must find our 
 occasions of obedience in the shop, the farm, the school, 
 the kitchen, the office, the ship, the family. If we are 
 not doing good here; if a barren sentimentality be- 
 guiles us into dreaming of some future, romantic, con- 
 spicuous service ; if we pass by the sister, the servant, 
 the alms-person that rings timidly at our gate, or the 
 errand-boy who brings supplies, while we plan beautiful 
 schemes of distant and collective good ; we are not the 
 persons whom Jesus means. Common life, in its hum- 
 blest domestic fiow, is fuU of opportunities for honouring 
 our Lord. You can scarcely make a single turn within 
 the circle of home and daily work, without finding occa- 
 sion to act out some inward principle of divine benevo- 
 lence. " One of the least of these" Christ's " brethren," 
 may sit beside your hearth, in the person of some pa- 
 
DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 351 
 
 rent, grandparent, or widowed relative. Christ may 
 expostulate with you, for your neglect of some kinsman 
 who is " waxen poor," and whom with coldness and 
 pride you abandon to the tender mercies of strangers. 
 " If any provide not for his own, and especially for those 
 of his own house, he hath denied the faith, and is worse 
 than an infidel." Acts of mercy towards those who are 
 daily meeting us in the unromantic paths of ordinary 
 intercourse, fall properly under the head of ministries to 
 the Lord. A true Christian will endeavour to enhven 
 every particular of service to fellow-creatures with this 
 consecrating intention. This spirit of love will give 
 verdure and fragrance to performances otherwise with- 
 ered and repulsive. Thus, for example, the home du- 
 ties of Woman, restrained as she is from publicity and 
 the guidance of affairs, may be woven into a blessed 
 tissue of service, often unconscious, to Christ Jesus the 
 Lord. Charity will not house itself, we admit, nor 
 selfishly shut out thoughts of sufferers abroad. But we 
 always discover that those who are permanently and 
 consistently most useful abroad, are those who have 
 first proved themselves most faithful in charities at 
 home. And, whether at home or abroad, the great 
 majority of mankind must expect their usefulness, in 
 other words their work for Christ, to consist in a series 
 of familiar and oft-recurring acts, each apparently in- 
 considerable by itself. 
 
 " 'Tis a little thing 
 To give a cup of water ; yet its draught 
 
352 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 
 
 Of cool refreshment drained by fevered lips 
 
 May give a stock of pleasure to the frame, 
 
 More exquisite than when nectarean juice 
 
 Eenews the life of joy in happiest hours. 
 
 It is a little thing to speak a phrase 
 
 Of common comfort which, by daily use, 
 
 Has almost lost its sense ; yet on the ear 
 
 Of him who thought to die unmourned, 'twill fall 
 
 Like choicest music." * 
 
 How blessed a service ! how munificent a Master ! By 
 this ubiquity in his suffering brethren, he is always 
 present wherever a generous office can be performed. 
 And let us not forget the very acts of mercy, the par- 
 ticular charities wrought by the righteous, and remem- 
 bered by the King, charities confined to no age or na- 
 tion, but practicable in whatsoever spot we encounter 
 famine, parching thirst, exile, nakedness, disease, or 
 bondage. Let us go in quest of Jesus, among the 
 half-starved occupants of the tall, overcrowded tenant- 
 house, where the restoring beverage, so familiar to our 
 tables, never courts the taste of the scorched and hectic 
 pauper ; or sick-beds, where the foreigner and emigrant 
 pants for breath in summer and shivers in winter ; or, 
 most neglected of all, in the prison-house, abode at once 
 of shame, vice, ignorance and woe. All these, and such 
 as these, all forms of misery, begotten of sin, and 
 swarming most opprobriously in cities, under the very 
 eaves of Christian wealth and lofty fashion, cry to us in 
 
 ♦ Lord Talfourd. 
 
DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 353 
 
 the name not merely of humanity, but of our Lord. 
 Every system of means which offers access to these 
 representatives of our Master, and affords ways of serv^- 
 ing him, should be honoured and upheld. But we 
 should not allow individual effort to be swallowed up by 
 great organizations. The machinery which intervenes 
 between us and the Saviour, to whom we would minis- 
 ter in his poor members, is an evil, even if a necessary 
 evil. Association, subscription, collection, stated agency, 
 beneficent proxies, these are indispensable ; but observe 
 for what reason. They carry the alms of him who is 
 too weak, too busy, or too old, to go always in person ; 
 they divide and methodize the work, so that no part 
 may be overlooked, and no part over-served ; and they 
 cause a few, trained and practised, to do the work of 
 many. But, after aU, those organizations are best, 
 which, while they secure these objects, assign most of 
 their task of visitation and aid to free-will agents, and 
 so increase rather than lessen the amount of individual 
 charity. The Sunday School is one, and only one, of a 
 class which somewhat realizes these ideas. When con- 
 verts in large numbers are brought into the church, and 
 with the impulse of new love look around for a way to 
 do good, every one knows that the instrument which 
 first and naturally presents itseff is the Sunday School. 
 The day is coming, when we shall have many others, 
 equally aiming at the rescue of fallen humanity. At 
 present, this form of charitable organization carriesan 
 its train much more than scriptural instruction on the 
 23 
 
354 ^^^^ SERVICE OF CHRIST. 
 
 Lord's day ; for Sunday School teachers are more and 
 more Bible readers and Tract distributors in alleys and 
 attics ; Good Samaritans by the way, to pour oil and 
 wine into hearts wounded by intemperance and unbehef ; 
 visitors of infirmaries, ships, and prisons ; exhorters and 
 reprovers of sin at wharfs and ferries ; seekers for the 
 sick poor, up and down the vast dimensions of our me- 
 tropolitan misery. If you would find the thousands 
 who do this work, while you sit on your luxurious sofas, 
 and criticise the indiscreet outlay of pubHc charities, 
 you must look to the teachers in Sunday Schools. In 
 my judgment the ehte of beneficent and therefore happy 
 Christians in America is in the Sunday School ranks. 
 And though after all these weary days and anxious 
 nights, some of them may exclaim, " When, O Master, 
 saw we thee in distress and ministered unto thee/' they 
 wiU not fail of their reward. As a means of bringing 
 out the latent and diversified talent of a congregation, 
 the Sunday School is at present above all others. But 
 the time is not distant when, under the influence of 
 fruitful awakenings and the pressure of increasing love 
 for Christ, the principle now very much confined to 
 Sunday Schools will, by a happy extension, be reahzed 
 in sister organizations, so diversified as to detect and 
 employ in appropriate ministry every lurking talent of 
 the brotherhood. While, however, we are awaiting a 
 period when the inward energies of the Church shall be 
 called out with more equable and universal effect, let 
 each of us, in his own post, be living for Christ. We 
 
DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 355 
 
 have nothing that we have not received ; let there be 
 nothing held back from the Lord. We serve a forbear- 
 ing and munificent King, who, though he needs none 
 of us, vouchsafes to treat our poor doings as if he were 
 the party obliged. What a contemptible tribute is the 
 fullest obedience of our best day, considered in itself! 
 If we had " done all those things " which are enjoined, 
 we ought stni to say, " We are unprofitable servants ; 
 we have done that which was our duty to do." It was 
 " duty," dues to be rendered, what we ought; we owed 
 it; matter of debt. But mark how he receives it, 
 how he gathers up the bruised, withered, scattered 
 flowers which seemed dying in our hands, and makes 
 of them a garland ; biads them on his brow as a dia- 
 dem ; points to them before his angels as an honour. 
 The self-condemning disciple sees no beauty or worthi- 
 ness but in his prince. Conscious of short-coming, he 
 hears the plaudit, and looks around among the right- 
 hand myriads in quest of him whom it may befit. Not 
 me, assuredly. " When saw / thee, in sorrow, and 
 ministered to thee ! " Yes, tliee, blushing saiat — ^thee; 
 the Master's eye seeketh thee. The moment has ar- 
 rived for discoveries, and while the wicked is hor- 
 ror-struck with the fiery record of his secret sins, the 
 " Mene, Mene, Tekel, Upharsin," read by the universe 
 in those asbestos leaves, the child of God is amazed to 
 find that every kindness to a httle one is tabled, owned 
 and rewarded; "good measure, pressed down and 
 shaken together." The secret chanty has become pub- 
 
356 DAILY SERVICE OF CHRIST. 
 
 lie ; according to that word, *' there is nothing covered 
 that shall not be revealed, neither hid that shall not be 
 known ; " which ought to teach us that every thing in 
 the nature of service to Christ, has a certain greatness. 
 I deplore from the bottom of my soul the disposition of 
 some Protestants to imdervalue and carp at acts of 
 mercy to the poor, the sick, or the dying, because Ro- 
 manists have made much of them. God forbid that 
 neglect of Christ's poor should ever be a characteristic 
 of Reform ! God be thanked, that true Protestantism 
 has always walked in the steps of that Catholic charity 
 which is older than popes and monkery. If a Good 
 Samaritan do a deed of mercy, let no meanness or in- 
 ward sense of delinquency lead you to scowl at it. 
 " Go thou and do hkewise ; " go and do better. To 
 take a single instance ; the great difficulties which pri- 
 vate famihes, however wealthy, sometimes experience, 
 in getting nurses for sudden emergencies of illness, 
 ought to make us all exclaim, " How must it be with 
 the poor ! " and to concert measures for training Chris- 
 tian attendants for the sick ; a service which has no 
 more necessary connexion with Popery, than has the 
 binding up of a bleeding wayfarer's wounds. For one, 
 I will take the liberty of loving and applauding the act 
 of mercy to a sufferer, by whomsoever performed ; and 
 this without groping into those hidden motives which 
 can be read by God only. " The day shall declare it." 
 It shall declare thy feeblest, most faltering deed. O, 
 Christian woman ! O, httle child I Here is the principle 
 
DAILY SERVICE OP CHRIST. 357 
 
 to preserve us from deeming anything little. The kind 
 word, gesture, look, to a mother or a brother — some 
 withhold these who are very pubhc with good deeds to 
 strangers — shall be owned as unto Christ. O, what a 
 Master ! Who wiQ not love him and serve him ! Let 
 me close with the words of Bishop Andrewes : " There 
 is glory which shall be revealed ; for when the Judge 
 Cometh, some shall see thy face cheerful, and shaU be 
 placed on the right, and shall hear those most welcome 
 words, ' Come ye blessed/ They shall be caught up 
 in clouds to meet the Lord ; they shall enter into glad- 
 ness, they shall enjoy the sight of Him, they shaU be 
 even with Him. These alone, only these, are blessed 
 among the sons of men. O, to me the meanest grant, 
 the meanest place, there under their feet ; under the 
 feet of thine elect, the meanest among them ! " 
 
XVI. 
 
 MIRTH 
 
MIRTH. 
 
 Peoveebs xvii. 22. 
 "A merry heart doeth good like a medicine." 
 
 In reading our admirable version of the Holy 
 Scriptures, a little sdiolarship and a little knowledge 
 of antiquity are useful, in order that we may not put 
 modem and degraded meanings on terms which are 
 grave and venerable. If we consult the Anglo-Saxon 
 roots, or even the father of Enghsh poetry, we shaU see 
 at once how this appHes to the words mirth and merry, 
 K in modern parlance we distinguish between cheerful- 
 ness and mirth, ascribing to the latter a more giddy, 
 unseasonable and vociferous effusion of hilarity, we shall 
 lose the entire force of our text and other passages. 
 Mirth, in good old English, included even the graver 
 kinds of cheerfulness. The old Psalter praises God 
 
 * Kew York, February 28, 1858. 
 
362 MIRTH. 
 
 with " awful mirtli ;" both words being such as have 
 suffered deflection. And the adage of Solomon is 
 cleared by the exhortation of the Apostle James : " Is 
 any merry, let him sing psalms." A merry heart is 
 therefore precisely a cheerful heart ; and that it " doeth 
 good like a medicine," is one of those truths which 
 every one of us, my brethren, has found true, blessed 
 be God, in his own experience. In the course of re- 
 mark on a somewhat unusual topic, which however is 
 given me by inspiration itself, I shaU endeavour to 
 bring forward some truths respecting the nature and 
 results of true cheerfulness, and the best way of seek- 
 ing this heahng influence. If the termination of the 
 discourse should be unlike its beginning, let us pray 
 that it may not leave any the less of salutary impression 
 on the heart. Cheerfulness is a symptom of inward 
 health, as truly as bodily alertness is of outward health. 
 In regard, however, to mind as well as body, the symp- 
 tom may itself become a remedial agent ; the effect 
 may in its turn act the part of a cause. 'For example, 
 a sound appetite, which is a sign of vigour, may itself 
 tend to the production of further vigour. And so, true 
 cheerfulness, springing from mental health, may fall 
 into a chain of causes, promoting yet greater health. 
 You are therefore invited to consider the means of pro- 
 moting that genuine Cheerfulness, or Mirth in old Eng- 
 lish, which doeth good hke a medicine. 
 
 I. The primary truth in this part of the philosophy 
 of life, is that true Cheerfulness is a concern both of 
 
MIRTH. 363 
 
 body and mind. The junction of the immaterial with 
 the material part in our nature is not like the annexa- 
 tion of two alien substances by a tie. Unhke as are 
 body and soul, they were made for one another, and 
 never in their normal condition to exist apart. If sun- 
 dered for a Httle, it is that they may be rejoined. They 
 are united in every part. Body acts on soul, and soul 
 acts on body. This indeed was denied by one of the 
 most ingenious philosophers that ever lived, the great 
 Leibnitz, who taught that mind cannot influence matter 
 nor matter mind ; but that the Creator had made the 
 two, Hke instruments tuned together from eternity, al- 
 ways parallel in action, each responding to the other, 
 yet with no mutual agency. No one now beheves in a 
 hypothesis so ingeniously perverse. Sense and con- 
 sciousness testify to us every moment that body acts on 
 mind and mind on body ; and in nothing is this recip- 
 rocal agency more undeniable than in health and dis- 
 ease. A sickly body sours, or saddens, or inflames the 
 mind: a mind on the rack attenuates, wrinkles and 
 enfeebles the body. The old theory of animal spirits 
 still colours the language of common life, even when 
 physiology rejects the i^otion of these subtile substances 
 running up and down the system. But all hypotheses 
 apart, who knows not that what we call good spirits 
 quicken the pulses and clothe the frame with flesh, while 
 fasting, loss of functional power, or injury to the organs, 
 engender melancholy ? In the large and proper ac- 
 ceptation of the term, we include the well-being of body 
 
364 
 
 MIRTH. 
 
 and soul together, when we use the word health. He 
 is not healthy, though with a frame of iron, who has 
 moody flights and delirious fancies. How delicate was 
 the adjustment, how perfect the temperament of the 
 parts, when the father of our race was created and 
 placed in Eden ! Body and soul were twin portions of 
 a wonderful corftexture which worked sweetly and with- 
 out a jar. Marvellous will be the change in the coming 
 state, when these vile bodies shall be fashioned Hke 
 " imto Christ's glorious body ;" from the resurrection 
 to go on without hinderance, in union with correspond- 
 ing souls, to a glory never known in Paradise. The 
 nearest approach we can ever have to this state, in the 
 present life, is where the 7nens sana in corjpore sano pos- 
 sesses health and strength. Of such a condition true 
 Cheerfulness is the accompaniment and indication. 
 This we may maintain without running into absurdi- 
 ties like. those who talk about disease being a crime, and 
 who would send all mental and moral ailments to the 
 shop of the materialist for rehef. The attempt to serve 
 God and our neighbour with a broken constitution or 
 a drooping mind, as many here have learnt by expe- 
 rience, is hable to great disappointment. As we would 
 not undertake a friend's business with a beast of bur- 
 den which was lame, so we should be loath to bring to 
 the work of the Lord a body which drags heavily at 
 every step. Yet sometimes God himself so plainly 
 lays the trial upon us, weakening our strength by the 
 way, as in the case of Hezekiah or Trophimus, that our 
 
MIRTH. 
 
 365 
 
 lesson becomes that of resignation, patience, and quiet 
 hope. Even then, it is our duty to use means for re- 
 covery. Even then, one of these means is that cheer- 
 fuhiess of heart which doeth good hke a medicine, and 
 without which all the materia medica might be exhibit- 
 ed in vain. Let those who enjoy health and hilarity, 
 acknowledge dependance, and consider from whom the 
 blessing comes. As there is a pride of family, of beau- 
 ty, of riches, so there is a pride of health ; and some of 
 the most signal and admonitory reverses we have ev^ 
 known, have befallen families and individuals whose 
 habit it was to vaunt that they owed nothing to the 
 physician. Every day, if possible, every hour, let us 
 give thanks that our health has had no interruption ; 
 or, that it has continued long ; or, after illness and de- 
 cay, that it has been restored.* "It is of the Lord's 
 mercy that we are not consumed, and because his com- 
 passions fail not." That balance of the faculties, men- 
 tal and bodily, which causes each and all together to 
 work to the greatest advantage, manifests itself by a 
 natural lightness of temper and clear animation of spir- 
 its, which is most remarkable in youth, but which we 
 sometimes observe even in the autumnal days of a beau- 
 tiful old age. It is the greatest of all blessings to the 
 body; but at the same time it is a blessing which 
 nothing bodily has power to confer. And, therefore, 
 we must look higher. 
 
 II. Inasmuch as the soul has the prerogative of gov- 
 erning the body, there are numerous happy cases, in 
 
366 ^ii^TH. 
 
 which there is a cheerful heart in a suffering and sickly 
 frame. In every such instance the inward principle 
 doeth good hke a medicine. Many a patient had per- 
 ished years ago, but for the fortifying, sustaining, and 
 even curative power of a happy heart. Conflict there 
 may be — ^there must be — ^because the effect of most 
 bodily maladies, pains, and injuries is to subdue^ the 
 mind ; but where the intellectual and moral strength is 
 paramount, we have beheld even tortures made tolera- 
 ble, and feebleness of lungs or limbs set aside by the 
 internal power. No matter how exceptional such in- 
 stances are, they are sufficient to prove, how really inde- 
 pendent of external circumstances an immortal soul 
 may become ; to refute the fallacy, that because the 
 soul acts through organized matter, there is no longer 
 any soul after dissolution ; and to induce us all, in 
 times of health and strength, to acquire those habits of 
 mind and heart that may stand us in stead, when we 
 come to the enfeebling trials of age or illness. Where 
 cheerfulness survives, after the departure of health or 
 bodily ease, we shall usually observe one or more of the 
 following causes to be present. 
 
 First. Something in the nature of the malady or 
 distress which does not spend its power on the mental 
 part. " The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity, but 
 a wounded spirit, who can bear ? " Some diseases make 
 a speedy and direct assault upon the nervous system, 
 including its great origin, the brain. Some, especially 
 in acute cases, so fill the frame with vexation, annoy- 
 
MIRTH. ggy 
 
 ance, or even anguish, as to leave no freedom for thought 
 or possibility of peace. But others, and these the most 
 numerous, though often severe and sometimes fatal, 
 make no advance to the mind's citadel, and so leave 
 reason in its supremacy. But this is not enough. 
 Hence, 
 
 Secondly. Cheerfulness in suffering may be due to 
 natural elevation of spirits. Constitution, education, 
 companionship, employment, opinions, customs of Hving, 
 these are mighty confluent streams which go to form a 
 river of habit, good or evil, in respect of cheerfulness; 
 which habit is too powerful to be turned aside by any 
 ordinary contingencies of disappointment, pain, or weak- 
 ness. Those whose profession leads them to be much 
 in sick rooms are familiar with instances of this, which, 
 to the inexperienced, would seem fabulous. 
 
 Thirdly. The only source of genuine cheerfulness on 
 the bed of sickness and death is the grace of God in 
 the soul. But we have tarried long enough beside the 
 chair of the invalid. May God grant to all such the 
 cordial of inward heavenly joy ! A third consideration, 
 appUcable to every individual in this assembly, and 
 founded on laws of nature, awaits our notice. 
 
 III. Since both soul and body are made for exer- 
 tion, there is nothing more conducive to cheerfulness, 
 the result of their joint health, than fit employment. 
 A house bereft of tenants goes to decay. A vehicle 
 laid up without use rusts and moulders. A fine piece 
 of machinery is never so safe, as when lubricated and 
 
368 ^i^TH. 
 
 moving. Body and soul, made for perpetual activity, 
 must work, and work together, in order to be in good 
 condition. Of all engines, tlie human body is the most 
 amazing. From the days of Socrates, as reported by 
 Xenophon, philosophy has been studying the mechanics, 
 the chemistry, the vital forces, the adaptations, the final 
 causes of this structure, so fearfully, so wonderfully 
 made. There is no step forward, to new principles in 
 physics, in optics, in the growth of structures, which 
 does not find itself anticipated by some marvellous 
 realization of its idea in the human body. Considered 
 as a working engine, there is none which works so 
 cheaply, with so httle waste, and so long, or which con- 
 tains such provision for its own repair. How every 
 survey of the skilful mechanism shows that it was made 
 to move. Its central, propelling engine never stops, 
 except in cases which cause instant dread of death. 
 Heart, lungs, and brain, play on through all the thou- 
 sand nights of sleep. An instinct of nature prompts 
 the young to be in almost perpetual motion. Absolute 
 ♦ rest there is none. And if, from necessity or choice, 
 any approach to immobihty becomes the habitude of 
 body, as is the case in some sluggish and morbid na- 
 tures, the result is lethargy and endless disturbance of 
 the vital functions. This frame was made for labour. 
 
 Equally true is this of the yet more subtle, because 
 spiritual part. The soul is essentially active. Of a 
 mind that does not think, no man can frame a notion. 
 The human mind is made to be active. It is inquiring, 
 
MIRTH. 359 
 
 and athirst for knowledge. Its active powers irresistibly 
 seek for some object on which to exert themselves. 
 Healthful, moderate repose, chiefly by change of em- 
 ployment, is good; but entire, continual, unbroken 
 quiescence is misery. Never was there a more dire 
 mistake than that of men who abandon the honest and 
 useful business of life, under the pretext of rest. Unless 
 they have singular resources, in science, literatm-e, or 
 philanthropy, they sink into hebetude, weary of the 
 everlasting hoHday, let their heart corrode with sullen 
 thoughts, and sometimes fall a prey to evil babits oi 
 premature dotage. Philosophy, no less than Religion, 
 enjoins — unless where invincible necessities from in- 
 firmity or age clearly speak another language — that we 
 should Hve working, and die in the harness. Hence 
 the value of a trade or calhng, and of working at it. 
 I believe it lengthens life. I beHeve it staves off tribes 
 of maladies and conceits. I am sure it promotes that 
 spring and elation of soul, without which life is a long 
 disease. If you would find the most wretched man or 
 woman in your neighbourhood, look for the one who 
 has nothing to do. Unless allowed to prescribe em- 
 ployment, even the best physician cannot cure the vale- 
 tudinary complainer. Tor after all has been said, 
 employment begets cheerfulness ; and " a merry heart 
 doeth good Uke a medicine." 
 
 IV. But man is not merely an intellectual, he is a 
 moral being, and hence healthful cheerfulness requires 
 as its indispensable condition a good conscience. To 
 24 
 
370 MIRTH. 
 
 be truly happy in mind, the soul must be at harmony 
 with itself. I know the objection that you are framing 
 in your thoughts, and I will dispose of it at the outset. 
 You are thinking of numerous persons known to you, 
 who are immoral, and yet intensely and extravagantly 
 mirthful ; you have even known flagitious sinners, who 
 were proverbial for laughter and good cheer. You 
 recall to mind the thousands who haunt every place of 
 amusement, and whose habits go to sustain the dens of 
 boisterous wassail. Now, on a calm and serious view 
 of the case, leaving religion out of the question, you 
 wiU scarcely choose this species of hilarity as that which 
 you would wish for a beloved son. It is scarcely such 
 as will endure for a hfetime, or gild the decHning hours. 
 You have probably seen enough of society to know 
 that much of this ostentatious mirth is purely factitious, 
 made up of the sympathies and contagion of good- 
 fellowship and wine. Nay, you must be young as an 
 observer, if you have not found that your merry friend 
 indulges in a certain feigning. He is not so merry as 
 he would have you believe. The wreathed smiles of his 
 artificial visage partake of grimace. He is more smiling 
 when met than when overtaken ; more full of jest with 
 strangers than at home ; loud in company, stupid by 
 himself; in a word, bidding fair for an old age of stupor, 
 gluttony, or drink. You know perfectly well, that if 
 youth be left out of the account, the people who run 
 after public amusements are precisely those who cannot 
 enjoy sohtude, and who have never learned to endure 
 
MIRTH. 37]^ 
 
 themselves. O, that some of those, who recognise their 
 own face in this hkeness, would lay to heart the truth 
 that their conscience is diseased! 
 
 1. Conscience of crime is a tormentor. There is 
 scarcely a Gentile sage or poet who has not said so, in 
 description and example, for it needs no inspiration to 
 reveal how this scorpion of the bosom can sting. The 
 cases are so horrible, where habitual and repeated sin 
 has reached the point of silencing and palsying con- 
 science, that it is hard to say what may be the temper 
 of a soul which has passed under this cautery ; but who 
 among us would seek such a callous heart as the abode 
 of cheerfulness ? Of all passions none breathes more of 
 the atmosphere of heU, than remorse. This ought to 
 gain the attention even of those who have as yet been 
 kept back from presumptuous sins ; because no one 
 ever became suddenly vile, and they know not what 
 may be the end of the way upon which they have 
 entered, or whether their closing scene may not be 
 maddened by despair. 
 
 2. Far, veiy far on this side of atrocious crimes, 
 there may be such contiQuance in transgression, as may 
 embitter the conscience, and make quiet joy impossible. 
 This case may be well studied by the young man or 
 young woman, who, after a rehgious education, has re- 
 strained prayer, neglected the Scriptures, stifled convic- 
 tions, and gone into the world for happiness. There is 
 a conscious dissatisfaction under aU the gayety. The 
 day of pleasure is often followed by a night of disquie- 
 
3^2 MIRTH. 
 
 tude. The intervals between one and another of those 
 nocturnal assemblies which quench forever the religious 
 emotions of many, are dull and pensive. The very face 
 of the maiden, who ought to be rosy, jocund, and alert, 
 is " sickhed o'er with a pale cast of thought." Some- 
 thing is wrong. The pride of the house is wretched. 
 Summer tours and winter dissipations, such as modem 
 piety may approve, fail to restore the elasticity of a 
 once healthful^ creature. The unwelcome truth is, the 
 immortal spirit will not brook the treatment of such 
 charlatanry. The soul craves its pecuHar and appro- 
 priate food and refreshment. The immaterial and 
 aspiring nature sighs for God. And how can it be 
 cheerful ? 
 
 More of the world's sadness and gloom than the 
 world chooses to reveal, is caused by hearts ill at ease, 
 and consciences disquieted with sin. There are persons 
 who for years drag about a body wasted by the rest- 
 less, consuming mind. While worldlings charge re- 
 ligious people with gloom, they are themselves often 
 kept in misery by their want of Christian peace. It 
 requires no godliness to make one suffer from con- 
 science. Natural principles, among aU nations, suffice 
 for this. Conscience utters the voice of law, or expos- 
 tulation, of remonstrance, sometimes of menace, of 
 retribution, of vengeance. It is for relief from such 
 pangs that the troubled, aching soul goes to the Gospel. 
 But thither the deluded follower of pleasure or gain can- 
 not bring himself to go. And till he goes, aU his mirth 
 
MIRTH. 373 
 
 and gayety are illegitimate and irrational, even if they 
 are not simulated and hollow. Thousands walk our 
 streets and flaunt in our assembhes, wearing the garb 
 and the smirk of an assumed and conventional hilarity, 
 who would sink to the earth, like the child's top, the 
 instant they should cease to whirl. If they durst sit 
 still long enough to feel the pulses, they would know 
 that they are sick at heart. They have forsaken the 
 fountain of hving water, and have hewed them out 
 cisterns, broken cisterns, which can hold no water. 
 Amidst much forced merriment, they are utterly void 
 of all that vernal cheerfulness which is as characteristic 
 of a well-regulated sound religion, as sweet flowers are 
 of Spring. And the tendency is from bad to worse. 
 
 3. Even in the ordinary narrow acceptation of the 
 term in the world's idiom, a good conscience promotes 
 ease of mind. It smooths the pillow. It removes 
 acerbity from the tone, in hours of business. It recon- 
 ciles the father to his family group, and the son and 
 daughter to their home. But, in order to clear away 
 clouds, calm the sullen swell of the mysterious ocean 
 within, and throw sunshine over the late darkened 
 countenance, there is need of something more deter- 
 minately gracious. Simple social moraHty, honour 
 in trade, truth, candour, hospitahty, neighbourly kind- 
 ness, domestic affection — all beautiful, all good, on a 
 lower scale of value — ^have no adequacy as answering a 
 holy spiritual law, and therefore no power to pacify an 
 enhghtened conscience. Though a sinner may be either 
 
374 MIRTH. 
 
 exorbitantly gay or deeply stupid in his sins, he cannot 
 feel these sins and be cheerful. Here I touch the sen- 
 sitive spot that denotes the disease. No transgressor 
 against an infinitely holy God can have healthful men- 
 tal enjoyment, such as does good to soul and body, 
 while he is vexed with the conviction of his heinous 
 guilt. And the point to be observed is, that no sinner 
 can infaOibly prevent such conviction and such distress. 
 In this respect, as in others, the soul that forsakes God 
 remains still in the hands of God. It is not for him to 
 say when he shaU be disquieted for his sins, how long 
 this disquietude shall last, or to what extreme of tor- 
 ment it may rise. 
 
 In a Christian land hke ours, many a heart, wrung 
 with agonizing reflections, never reveals itself to the 
 ear and heart of human friendship ; and ah 1 cannot, 
 will not, reveal itself to the ear and heart of a compas- 
 sionate God, in the outpourings of confidential prayer. 
 Nothing is more wide-spread than uncomfortable feel- 
 ings with regard to rehgious deficiency, which are strong 
 enough to HU cheerfulness, but not so expHcit and de- 
 veloped as to lead to decision. Yet such vague trouble 
 of mind is often the precursor of salvation. False 
 peace, it is true, sometimes comes in ; introduced by 
 erroneous doctrine, self-righteous satisfaction, or spuri- 
 ous exercises accepted as graces of the Spirit. But even 
 this fails, either by want of permanency, or by leaving 
 the heart still unblest with the radiance of a serene joy. 
 To walk on earth with the erect countenance of Chris- 
 
MIRTH. 375 
 
 tian cheerfulness, there must be peace with conscience 
 and peace with God. 
 
 4. There is no such thing as a good conscience, 
 except where there is a persuasion of acceptance with 
 God, through the mediation of the Lord Jesus Christ. 
 This persuasion causes the face to shine as did the face 
 of Moses when he came down from converse with God 
 upon the Mount. Here is an irradiation which makes 
 the soul lift itself in holy cheerfulness, just as the sun 
 in May makes the violet and the rose unfold their 
 leaves with freshness of beauty. " Wisdom maketh a 
 man's face to shine." And of this heavenly wisdom or 
 spiritual knowledge and service of God, the wise man 
 says : " So shall they be Hfe unto thy soul, and grace to 
 thy neck ; when thou liest down, thou shalt not be 
 afraid, yea, thou shalt lie down and thy sleep shall be 
 sweet." Prov. iii. 22, 24. 
 
 It is proper just here to observe, in order to meet a 
 difficulty of candidly inquiring minds, that the earhest 
 exercises of penitent, returning minds are not always 
 joyful. There may be bitterness beneath the soil and 
 in the knotty trunk, when the clusters and fruitage 
 above are dropping with sweetness; or, as convales- 
 cence from sore disease is sometimes preceded by a 
 fearful crisis, so the first transition from worldliness to 
 serious thoughts of God and heavenly things is com- 
 monly marked by alarm, humiliation, and grief. The 
 anxious seeker's path circles the Old Testament Sinai, 
 often many times, before it strikes off thitherward to- 
 
376 MIRTH. 
 
 ward Mount Zion, and opens yonder at the Cross. But 
 when it leads the wayfaring soul to " Jesus the Medi- 
 ator of the New Covenant, and to the blood of sprin- 
 kling, that speaketh better things than that of Abel," 
 it presents to him a region of springtide joyfulness. 
 There may be weeping clouds, there may be alter- 
 nations Hke returning winter, but still the Sun of 
 Righteousness is there. It is d Beulah, a land of cheer- 
 fulness ; such cheerfulness as even does the body good, 
 and drives the crimson tides with new impulses of life 
 to members lately collapsed and chill. Are any notes 
 of gladness more ravishing than those which the convert 
 hears, amidst these green pastures beside these stiQ 
 waters ? Listen to what issues from the mouth of a glo- 
 rious and beloved Priend, till now unknown ; hearken ! 
 " Rise up, my love, my fair one, and come away. For 
 lo, the winter is past, the rain is oVer and gone ; the 
 flowers appear on the earth ; the time of the singing of 
 birds is come, and the voice of the turtle is heard in 
 our land. The fig-tree putteth forth her green figs, 
 and the vines with the tender grape give fragrance. 
 Arise, my love, my fair one, and come away." Song, 
 ii. 10-13. When Jesus speaks pardon and love to the 
 soul, he gives cheerfulness and joy. At no epoch is this 
 so strikingly felt, by reason of contrast, in passing fi:om 
 an anxious into a rejoicing state, as at first believing, 
 the love of espousals. But I am so far from thinking 
 these to be the highest raptures of religion, that my 
 persuasion is firm and daily increasing, of " the mar- 
 
MIRTH. 377 
 
 vellous loving-kindness " of God, to his unworthy but 
 redeemed people, in the latter stages of their journey, 
 even to the very last. To every true convert Jesus 
 seems to say " Behevest thou ? thou shalt see greater 
 things than these ! " When, therefore, we invite such 
 as are the prey of unhealthy anxieties to try the effects 
 of the grand restorative, we invite them, not to sighs 
 and tears, not to manifold austerities of service, not to 
 a forsaking of all their present solace without hope of 
 indemnity, but to a peace of God which passeth aU 
 understanding, and a reasonable groimd of habitual 
 cheerfulness, on which, as on a tried foundation, they 
 may (to say the very least) rest more securely than on 
 any support sought or conceived of by the soul of man. 
 Directly or indirectly, you are constantly seeking some 
 tranquillity of soul, some rest for the immortal spirit, 
 some slaking of the insatiable thirst. You struggle for 
 it, as the tendrils of the vine wring their way in tenta- 
 tive movement towards the light ; you turn towards it 
 as the crushed worm under your feet writhes in search 
 of ease. Out of rehgion, out of propitiation, out of the 
 Lord Jesus Christ, you wiU never find it. You will, 
 like those fifty fabled daughters of Danaus in the classic 
 story, spend life, pouring water into vessels pierced 
 like sieves ; or, more heavily roUing the mighty stone 
 up the arduous mountain, that at each remove it may 
 again turn upon you with thundering bound. And 
 when you have tried all that worldly mirth can do, you 
 
378 MIRTH. 
 
 will say with the repentant king, " I said in mine heart, 
 Go to now, I will prove thee with mirth, therefore enjoy 
 pleasure; and behold this also is vanity. I said of 
 laughter, it is mad, and of mirth, what doeth it ? " 
 Ecc. ii. 1, 2. 
 
XVII. 
 
 BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 
 
BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES * 
 
 Isaiah xliii. 10. 
 " Ye are my witnesses, saith the Lord." 
 
 Christianity, as being from God, the sovereign 
 Ruler of the Universe, asks no patronage from the 
 great of this world. Learning, rank, opulence and 
 power, which have weight elsewhere, are as nothing 
 here. As if to show this in the strongest possible 
 manner, God chose to estabUsh his Church of the new 
 dispensation in absolute neglect of all such auxiliaries. 
 He might have gained over the sagest of the Porch, 
 the Academy, or the Lyceum, the professors of Tarsus 
 and Alexandria, or the rabbins of Tiberias. He might 
 have arrayed his evangelists in imperial purple, and 
 heralded his gospel by lictors and sound of trmnpet. 
 
 * New York, June 20, 1858. 
 
332 BELIEYERS ARE WITNESSES. 
 
 He might have caused princely armies to trample down 
 opposing nations ; " But God hath chosen the foohsh 
 things of the world to confound the wise, and the weak 
 things of the world to confound the things which are 
 mighty ; and base things of the world and things 
 which are despised, hath Go*d chosen, yea, and things 
 which are not, to bring to nought things that are, that 
 no flesh should glory in his presence." And hence, 
 even when, in the progress of ages, the Church has 
 subsidized many of these very influences, she has re- 
 ceived them as followers, and never jdelded them 
 homage. Christianity has now so entrenched itself 
 within the science, the letters, the pubhc institutions, 
 and the kindly afiections of mankind, that it looks with 
 a benignant pity on mistaken creatures, who conde- 
 scendingly talk as if evangehcal truth, by their good 
 leave, was not so bad a thing, and as if, with a hberal 
 construction and some reserves, the Bible might, after 
 all, be received even by liberal thinkers. The decayed 
 Hidalgo, who stalks proudly in rags which his ancestral 
 cloak scarcely hides, is not more ridiculous in his pride. 
 Nay, the king who emerges from the straw of Bedlam, 
 bowing as he yields sufiferance and admission to his 
 keepers, is quite as rational in his supercilious com- 
 placency. After a thousand battle-fields, amidst innu- 
 merable trophies. Revelation sits as a queen. From 
 every nation and in every dialect, the wise and great 
 flock to do her homage. The banks of the Nile and 
 the Tigris, the monuments of Judea and the catacombs 
 
BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 333 
 
 of Rome continually augment the glorious accumulation 
 of their evidence. The scholarship and philosophy of 
 the world are on the side of the Cross. And yet, over 
 against our host of confessors, our Bacons, Pascals, 
 Newtons, Henrys and Owens, we descry puny figures 
 coming forward to lend the shelter and countenance of 
 their insignificant pennon ! And who, forsooth, are 
 they, that the " Virgin daughter of Zion" should ask, or 
 even brook their aid ? By what names are these called, 
 who are thus eager to inform us of their tolerance of 
 Jesus, and their good opinion of the Lord of hosts? 
 Peradventure some sciohst, undisciplined in any one 
 severe science, undrilled in any ancient tongue, unfa- 
 mihar even with the books of Scripture, but pert and 
 voluble at counters, tables, clubs and drawing-rooms, 
 and admired in his flippant cavil by groups more 
 ignorant than himself. Or, it may be, some narrow 
 pedant, all behind the age, who has dozed in the cave 
 of the Seven Sleepers, while the world has been rolling 
 on, and who in his simpHcity is ignorant that the mate- 
 riahsm and philosophism of Voltaire, D'Alembert, Vol' 
 ney and Diderot, are just as vahd, even with decent 
 infidels, as alchemy, magic, or the humoral pathology. 
 Who cares (except in commiseration for his foolish soul) 
 what such a one thinks of Christianity ? Or the voice 
 of complaisance toward our holy religion may issue from 
 some back-shop or foul attic, where, among Hcentious 
 verse and graphic abomination, the thumbed and 
 smutched volumes, redolent of Birmingham or the 
 
384 BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 
 
 collieries, bear the grosser names of Paine, Carlisle, or 
 Holyoake. This is generally emigrant deism, and its 
 converts among us are fished up from the filthiest pools, 
 where drink and unthrift lie alongside of brutal igno- 
 rance or incorrigible stupidity. Shall I add to the Hst 
 those apostates from Christianity, who, though bred in 
 evangelical churches, never felt the power of grace, 
 smarted under correction of their secret sins, found it 
 their interest to prove that the murderer and the demon 
 should be happy in heaven, kicked at the goads of re- 
 proof and overleaped the fence of mystery ; the renegade 
 Christians, who have betaken themselves to a scheme as 
 much Mohammedan as Christian, to a Scripture with- 
 out infallible truth, to a Cross without expiation, to a 
 salvation without Christ ? From any, from aU of these, 
 we reject the proffer of ostentatious aid. We would 
 gladly give them of our stores ; but save us from their 
 patronage ! Not by such attestation is heavenly Wisdom 
 justified. 
 
 There is something like pusillanimity in the warmth 
 with which certain professors of Christianity chuckle over 
 every httle good word doled forth in its behalf by men 
 who scarcely know its tenets, and five in defiance of its 
 commands ; v^hile the same weak friends of the cause 
 overlook the testimony of miUiohs, who have best known 
 the reality of religion because they experienced it, and 
 have yielded the strongest attestation by adhering to 
 the faith. Infidelity shows no such throng of behevers, 
 confessors, dying saints and martyrs, as, with perpetual 
 
BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 335 
 
 augmentation, have been avowing, age after age, the 
 power of grace. These, these are the witnesses. When, 
 with nervous trepidation, distrustful of your own cause, 
 you betake you to the others, and pick up the paltry 
 concessions of deists and heretics, it is as if you should 
 call in a chance New Zealander or Esquimaux, who had 
 descried the distant smoke of a propeller on his waste 
 seas, to gain his testimony concerning the existence and 
 value of a steam navigation which fills our harbour. 
 Let them testify of what they know ; of our heavenly 
 Wisdom they know as Httle as " the eagle, and the ossi- 
 frage, and the ospray, and the owl," unclean birds all, 
 sweeping over the desert where the tabernacle reposed, 
 knew of the awful contents of the ark of the covenant. 
 The testimony which such people give to religion, taken 
 with its accompaniments, is often as horrible as it is 
 ridiculous. A miserable suicide leaves his judgment 
 that the Bible is true. The most misanthropic of all 
 sensualists, Rousseau, to his elegant but poisonous con- 
 fessions of lust and lying, adds a tribute to Jesus 
 Christ, whom he prefers, O marvellous complaisance, to 
 Socrates ! It is about a hundred years since Earl Fer- 
 rers, an EngHsh nobleman, was carried to the scaffold 
 for his second murder. On his way the minister of re- 
 hgion tendered to him the admonitions and consolations 
 which it is usual for aristocratic and plebeian felons to 
 receive ; but the school which taught him murder had 
 also taught him deism : he haughtily rejected the good 
 offices. But then, not to be too cruelly grand, and as if 
 25 
 
386 BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 
 
 to spare the humbled feelings of Christianity, he deigned 
 to say, that he believed in a God, and that he had 
 always thought the Lord's Prayer a useful compo- 
 sition.* Such is the commendation which some are 
 fain to chronicle, from the condescending admissions of 
 absurd and immoral men. Let all such lie silent in 
 their original worthlessness, while a healthful love of 
 truth leads us to suspect and avoid organs to which the 
 Hght of noon is repugnant. We do not require the 
 tardy, reluctant tribute of minds which still reject our 
 heavenly Master. Mate and even Judas may yield 
 testimony to innocence, and we own the power of con- 
 science ; but it is to the faithful eleven that Jesus says, 
 "Ye shall be my witnesses." And this leads me to 
 turn suddenly from the false witnesses to the true ; from 
 those who yield a reluctant, insufficient and insincere 
 testimony, to those who speak in honom- of the truth 
 with heartiness and acclamation ; from outside lookers-on 
 to believing inmates and loving children. Let us, then, 
 reflect on the meaning of these words which the Lord 
 addresses to his people : Ye are my witnesses. 
 
 The truth to be considered and apphed is, that all 
 true Christians are witnesses for God. And here it is 
 hardly requisite to premise, that there is a sense in 
 which God asks no attestation. He is himself the in- 
 finite source of all authority and the fountain of honour. 
 Were all systems of planets, with all their inhabitants, 
 and every thinking, active creature, smitten and turned 
 
 * Walpole's Letters. 
 
BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 337 
 
 back into nothing, the self-existent, independent Jeho- 
 vah would still be glorious, in the mutual comprehen- 
 sion of the Divine Persons, to all eternity. But the 
 Most High, in the communicative flowing out of his 
 love, has come forth in creation, for the very purpose of 
 reflecting his rays upon the inteUigent moral beings 
 whom he formed by his power. Of all it may be said, 
 " For thy glory they are, and were created." Of human 
 subjects God declares : " This people have I formed for 
 myself, they shall show forth my praise." Such is the 
 grand intention of the method of grace. Souls are 
 saved, that they may eternally laud and magnify the 
 riches of divine excellency ; " that he might make known 
 the riches of his glory on the vessels of mercy, which he 
 had afore prepared unto glory." Salvation, when con- 
 summate, will prove to have had this end, the exhibi- 
 tion of wisdom, power and love ; " that in the ages to 
 come, he might show the exceeding riches of his grace 
 in his kindness toward us, through Christ Jesus." In- 
 deed, this reverberation of God's praise is the office of 
 all creatures, animate and inanimate, being what is fitly 
 named his declarative glory. And all this declaration, 
 whether vocal or silent, may be considered as a witness- 
 bearing, which has this pre-eminence in children of 
 God, that it is the tribute of holy love and gratitude. 
 Every true behever, then, is a witness for God. In time 
 and in eternity, he is a lamp kindling into brighter and 
 yet brighter flame, in the sanctuary of his Lord. Early 
 in his ministry, our Master taught this to his disciples : 
 
338 BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 
 
 " Ye are the light of the world ; " " Shine/' and " Glo- 
 rify your Father which is in heaven." Por this very 
 purpose of bearing witness to the truth every believer 
 was first called. And as Jesus, the Messiah, the elect 
 of God, is the Chief Witness and pre-eminent glorifier 
 of God, so all the members of this Head and followers 
 of this leader, render a testimony according to their 
 respective positions. " Ye are my witnesses, saith the 
 Lord, and my servant whom I have chosen." But this 
 testimony to God and his truth must not be left in its 
 generality, but traced out a little further into some of 
 its branching exemplifications ; in order that we may 
 see how complete, irrefragable and glorious is the wit- 
 ness borne to revelation and the gospel. True behevers, 
 then, are witnesses for God, by their believing, their 
 profession, their example, and their suffering. 
 
 1. By their BELIEVING. To beheve God's words 
 is the very first act of adherence. Here the vital con- 
 nexion is formed with God incarnate. At this point 
 the rebel wheels into the ranks of service. The erring 
 orb turns its lately darkened side towards the Sun of 
 righteousness. What though the act be inward and 
 invisible ? God reads his own inscription on the soul : 
 and who shall say that it is not read by higher created 
 intelligences ? Even among men, this light is not placed 
 within the crystal globe of a soul to remain unseen. 
 Acceptance of truth, especially of Jesus, the primeval 
 truth, is inferior to no act of homage which the creature 
 ever puts forth during all the career of grace. The chief 
 
BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 389 
 
 attestation given by any man is himself to believe. He 
 " setteth to his seal/' that God is true ; he witnesses. 
 It is his endorsement, or subscription. He avouches 
 God to be his God, and passes over to his side. This 
 is introduced allusively a few verses later : xhv. 5 : " One 
 shall say, I am the Lord's, and another shall call himself 
 by the name of Jacob ; and another shall subscribe 
 with his hand unto the Lord, and surname himself by 
 the name of Israel." He who has faith in the Gospel 
 thereby becomes a witness for Cln-ist. It is by the 
 Spirit in the soul that behevers are enabled to say: 
 " And we have seen and do testify that the Father sent 
 the Son to be the Saviour of the world." 
 
 2. Believers are witnesses for God, by means of 
 THEIR profession. This is literal, positive, and open 
 witness-bearing. In Scripture it is often called confes- 
 sion, and those who brave perils in making this avowal 
 are named confessors. " With the heart man believeth 
 unto righteousness, and with the mouth confession is 
 made unto salvation." In early times it was often, as in- 
 deed it sometimes is with us, a joint attestation, a " good 
 confession," before many witnesses. This comes home 
 tenderly to all such as have lately taken God to be their 
 God, and sat down among his people. They then and 
 there stood forth as witnesses. To this Paul alludes, 
 saying, " Let us hold fast the profession [joint attesta- 
 tion] of our faith without wavering." AU professing 
 Christians since the world began have been so many 
 \vitnesses for the Christian system. They voluntarily 
 
390 BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 
 
 come out from the world and take their position on the 
 Lord's side. They avouch the Lord to be their God, 
 and Jesus Christ to be their leader and captain of sal- 
 vation. Of this testimony they are not ashamed. If 
 rehgion is unpopular, and strict Christians in a minority ; 
 if social persecution, in the way of ridicule and calumny, 
 arises ; if false opinions, called liberal, but savouring of 
 perverse progress, erroneous and heretical, have currency 
 and sit in the heights of fashion; if consequently it 
 costs something to be a disciple, and the professor must 
 often be singular, conspicuous, and sohtary; none of 
 these things move him. As a witness would go into 
 court joyfully and with open face to attest the character 
 of a father or a friend, though all the world were on the 
 other side, so the Christian is ready to stand up for his 
 Redeemer. There is even a glorying, in the ingenuous 
 soul, when adherence to a friend and vindication of a 
 righteous cause involve some peril or obloquy. The 
 majority of you, my brethren, are called to profess the 
 name of Jesus, in a much more quiet and secure way. 
 You rather gain than lose by appearing as Christians. 
 Very different is your condition from that of early be- 
 lievers, who often signed their own death-warrant when 
 they owned Christ before men. But you do as really 
 witness for God, when you come into the fellowship of 
 saints, and show the Lord's death till he come. 
 
 3. Disciples are witnesses for God by their example. 
 Actions speak loudly for any cause. " By this," said 
 our Saviour, " shall all men know that ye are my dis- 
 
BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 39^ 
 
 ciples, if ye keep my commandments." It is by letting 
 our light shine that we glorify our Pather which is in 
 heaven. No words, however well chosen, repeated or 
 earnest, no professions, however public, can avail so 
 much for the honour of Christianity, as a pure and con- 
 sistent life. In the early progress of the Gospel, this 
 was the attestation which first struck, then attracted, 
 and eventually convinced the Gentile observer. The 
 truth, the peacefulness, the meekness, the fraternal affec- 
 tion, the charity of the new sect, won its way to the 
 moral approbation even of enemies. This is a species 
 of testimony which, from its nature, is continually on 
 the increase. The more wide our field of observation 
 and the closer our scrutiny, the more will instances of 
 moral excellence, as finiits of faith in Christ, brighten 
 on our vision, as new tracts of stars come into view in 
 galaxies and nebulae, under the penetrative power of 
 the telescope. All behevers are thus God's witnesses, 
 by a holy life ; and this to the confounding of infidel- 
 ity, which can show no such seals. Our very familiar- 
 ity with this class of facts deadens our susceptibility 
 to their just force. We almost weary of seeing men 
 made better by Christianity. But let us see how the 
 account will read, if we reverse the statement, and 
 imagine such things recorded of infidehty. Let me 
 feign the history of such inverted revival, thus : A man 
 well known as a Har, swindler, and profane swearer, 
 has lately been convinced of the falsity of the Christian 
 religion, and has consequently abandoned all his evil 
 
392 BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 
 
 courses. A riotous, drunken ruffian, the scourge of his 
 family and terror of his neighbourhood, has lately be- 
 come quiet, pure, and temperate, and has closed his den 
 of madness, all as the fruit of Deism, to which he has 
 been converted. Two miserable debauchees ascribe 
 their return to a life of virtue to having embraced the 
 doctrine of universal salvation, and express great com- 
 fort in the belief that Judas Iscariot passed immediately 
 into glory. An entire community has just sustained a 
 transformation from htigious conflict and angry feud to 
 concord and humanity, from yielding to the belief that 
 there is no God. — You are startled, my brethren, and 
 justly. Infidelity bears no such fruit and summons no 
 such witnesses ; while the religion of the Bible exhibits 
 them with uniformity, splendour, and incalculable ex- 
 tent. 
 
 4. True Christians are witnesses for God by their 
 SUFFERINGS. All Christian suffering is a kind of wit- 
 ness-bearing. It is the greatest consolation of saints 
 imder heavy trials, in long debilitating illnesses, and 
 those retirements and straits which forbid active service, 
 that they are all the while passively serving. Under 
 the Cross they bear witness of God ; attesting his jus- 
 tice, his faithfulness, his power, his wisdom, his cove- 
 nant-gentleness ; they bear witness of Jesus, that he 
 hears the sigh of the humble, distils the dew of his 
 grace, sustains the fainting head with his arm, tranquil- 
 lizes and elevates by his Spirit, and shows himself alto- 
 gether lovely. Suffering is witness-bearing, O behever, 
 
BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 393 
 
 when under pangs, or in painless intervals, when the 
 clammy moisture and heaving breast and languid eye 
 betray the wrestUng just past, you are permitted and 
 prompted to honour your God and Saviour. Not only 
 men, but angels, nay God himself, regard such endu- 
 rance, even in a single case ; what shall we say of the 
 gathering myriads, who for ages have been coming out 
 of great tribulation, and ascending to the white robes 
 and triumphal palaces of Zion? "Ye are my wit- 
 nesses,'' will the King say to such, but especially to 
 those who shall have sealed the confession of the truth 
 with their own blood. Let not the overstrained eulogy 
 and superstitious veneration of these by a corrupt 
 Church lead us to deny the value of their testimony. 
 A witness is called in Greek a martyr. We have bor- 
 rowed the word, and made it sacred in our own tongue ; 
 for though it appears only twice in our version, in ap- 
 plication to Stephen and Antipas, the very same word 
 occurs repeatedly and is in the Greek translation of 
 our text. " The noble army of martyrs " praise God, 
 and should not be forgotten of men. Among external 
 evidences, these avowals of men, who, at the risk of 
 every thing earthly, and in contempt of every favour 
 and reward, o^\^led Christ at the stake, or in the face of 
 ravenous beasts, abide conspicuous. In regard to the 
 miracles of Christ and his apostles, as well as to the 
 predictions uttered by these and afterwards fulfilled, 
 the attestations of such original witnesses, at the instant 
 of martyrdom, are beyond all price. We are forced to 
 
394 BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 
 
 believe them. Every law of evidence and every prin- 
 ciple of human nature must be violated, before we can 
 doubt the numerous concurrent uncontradicted testi- 
 monies of those who could not have been mistaken, and 
 who would not in such perils have deceived. All an- 
 tiquity shows that the witness-bearing of both classes 
 had a mighty effect in commanding the credence of Jews 
 and Gentiles, on the spot and at the time. Nor was the 
 validity of the miracles which were thus attested left to be 
 settled by the intrinsic evidence of the truth which such 
 miracles confirmed. This opinion, which has trickled 
 in upon our theology from the corrupt springs of Ger- 
 man latitudinarianism, and which would prove miracle 
 by doctrine rather than doctrine by miracle, belongs to 
 a system which, speciously gaining over our younger 
 scholars, is carrying them over by squadrons to the 
 camp of rationalism. The late eminently philosophical 
 statesman, Mr. Gallatin, once said to me, alluding to 
 the lax opinions of certain erroneous teachers : " They 
 say, we believe in spite of the miracles ; but I say I 
 beheve because of the miracles." And when we accredit 
 the early martyrs and confessors, we build on the mira- 
 cles and other supernatural sanctions which constitute 
 the ground course of the evidential wall. To which we 
 add, in another sense, all the suffering and dying wit- 
 nesses of later ages. 
 
 Behold here, my brethren, in the faintest outhne, 
 something of the testimony which God receives from 
 his people. To tJiem you must go, if you would learn 
 
BELIEVERS ARE WIT^^:SSES. 395 
 
 the grounds and import of Christianity. Only they 
 can say, " We speak that which we know, and testify 
 that we have seen." They can tell of a Saviour who has 
 proved himself sufficient iu the day of trial, who has 
 lifted them out of the swoon of despair, and breathed 
 rapture into them with the kiss of peace. Their lan- 
 guage vnR naturally be. Come and hear what the Lord 
 hath done for our souls. They are not reluctant mt- 
 nesses, but long for opportunities to report the great- 
 ness of the Divine love. Their number is incalculable. 
 In all human tongues these attestations wiU be given. 
 Out of all kindreds and peoples they will flock in con- 
 course to the green and fragrant banks of the River of 
 Life, to renew, amplify, and perpetuate that testimony 
 which they began below. Go to them, ye doubters, and 
 not to the ignorant and deluded sons of philosophy, 
 falsely so called ; go to them, and accept their record. 
 They knoio that these things are so. They have be- 
 lieved ; and believing have had the spirit of adoption. 
 The things of rehgion are reaUties, ascertained to them 
 by an infallible consciousness. It is the certainty of 
 their assurance which gives earnestness to their unani- 
 mous declaration. 
 
 And ^e, my fellow- witnesses for God, consider whom 
 you attest, and what the office you discharge. The 
 voice which shakes heaven and earth, says, " Ye are my 
 witnesses 1 " Let the solemn vocation penetrate, and 
 the heavenly sanction overshadow your minds; let other 
 duties, callings, and privileges be merged in this. Look- 
 
396 BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 
 
 ing back on all the way in wliicli the Lord has led you, 
 must not you speak good of his name ? Love should 
 constrain you to testify that nothing has failed of all 
 that was promised. But you live in the midst of a 
 crooked and perverse nation, among whom ye shine 
 as lights in the world. Let the light be brilliant and 
 unmistakable. Hold it high, so that none need ever 
 ask twice whether you ate on the Lord's side or not. 
 However ardent may be the professions of some, at a 
 season of general awakening, and how firm soever their 
 attachment to Christ's church and ministers, observa- 
 tion shows that time works marvellous changes in 
 stony-ground hearers. Such were the Galatians ; warm 
 converts, strenuous adherents, eager witnesses for a 
 while. But listen how Paul addresses them : " Where 
 is, then, the blessedness ye spake of? for I bear you 
 record, that if it had been possible, ye would have 
 plucked out yoiu* own eyes and have given them to me." 
 Life, entire life, beloved servants of my Lord, is a period 
 of witnessing. By act, by omission, by speech, by 
 silence, whether you wiU or not, you are forever testify- 
 ing. Hour by hour you are testifying, sometimes 
 much more loudly than by words, either for or against 
 your Master. You are doing that which leads others 
 to conclude, either that Christ affords a satisfying por- 
 tion, or that his service is annoying and wearisome. 
 Here, surrounded by the partners of a common hope, 
 and supported by a pubHc opinion which honours the 
 Gospel, you are prompt to appear on the side of truth. 
 
BELIEVERS ARE WITNESSES. 397 
 
 It costs no sacrifice of profit, ease, or good name. But 
 change the scene ; go among the wicked, or even the 
 gay. Enter the smnmer circle, at pubHc resorts, where 
 strict conformity to God's law is imknown ; and allow 
 me to ask, is your mind made up to be a witness for 
 your Redeemer there also ? Are you likely to be firm 
 for Christ, when all the tide of opinion, business, 
 pleasure, runs the other way ; when to be a consistent 
 disciple is to be pointed at and shunned ; and when 
 your testimony may be as unwelcome as it is soHtary ? 
 For such Christianity, you need a courage which will 
 never come to you except upon your knees. Though 
 left as solitary as was your Lord, and like him beset 
 with false witnesses, if you only have his Spirit, if his 
 life flows into you, if, beheving on and clinging to him, 
 you have inward pulses which keep time with his heart ; 
 you will stand in the evil day, you wiU win souls, you 
 will recommend the Gospel, you wiU live teaching and 
 die witnessing. Amen. 
 
XVIIl 
 
 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE 
 
THE CHUECH A TEMPLE * 
 
 1 Petee ii. 5. 
 "Ye also, as lively stones, are built up a spiritual house." 
 
 It is difficult, if not impossible, for us to enter into 
 the feelings of an ancient Israelite in regard to the 
 temple at Jerusalem ; yet unless we do so in some de- 
 gree, we must lose the force of numerous figures in the 
 New Testament, which seized upon the imagination of 
 the Jew. To him, that structure was the best of all 
 terrestrial things. It was at once the citadel of his 
 commonwealth and the sanctuary of his Church. To 
 this spot his face was turned in devotion, wherever he 
 might wander on the earth's surface. Its walls con- 
 tained all that he held most splendid in ceremonial and 
 most sacred in mystery. In some sense it was the 
 
 * New York, April 3, 1854. 
 26 
 
402 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 
 
 centre, not of Palestine only, but of the world, for his 
 Lord had said, " My house shall be called a house of 
 prayer for all nations." Its pomps and praises, the 
 volume of its harmonies both vocal and instrumental, its 
 bleeding and smoking propitiations, ifs odorous clouds 
 of incense, its ablutions and sprinkhngs, its throngs of 
 exalted worshippers, its festive processions, and its inac- 
 cessible mysterious shrine, aU conspired to give it a 
 hold on his admiration and his affections, such as no 
 other material structure ever gained over human hearts. 
 Hence the most available charge against our Lord Jesus, 
 and that which was best fitted to make the populace 
 infuriate, was that he had spoken contemptuously of the 
 holy fabric. It was not unnatural, that in a period of 
 formal rehgion, the minds of the people should have 
 become knit to the external pile. No gleam of its 
 higher mystery and spiritual intention had yet broken 
 upon their worldly minds. Not yet had it been re- 
 vealed that God is a Spirit, and that they who worship 
 him must worship him in spirit and in truth, any- 
 where, everywhere, and not at Jerusalem or this moun- 
 tain. And yet, from the beginning, God had been pre- 
 paring his Church for better things, by means of this 
 visible type, and clearing the way for the setting up of 
 a house not made with hands. Even in the rudest 
 stages of religious discipline, aU that is outward, palpa- 
 ble or formal, is in its nature temporary, and is used to 
 sjmbohze something greater and loveher, beyond the 
 domain of sense. The day was rapidly approaching 
 
THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 
 
 408 
 
 when this glorious architecture should be given to the 
 flames, and when Israel should be without an earthly 
 sanctuary. The vanishing of the typical system vras 
 foreshown, when the vail of the temple was rent in twain 
 from the top to the bottom. Shortly after this, the 
 Church began to take its new and Christian form. But 
 those who came under this New Testament influence 
 from out of Judaism, were steeped in associations de- 
 rived from Hebrew rites. The apostles, therefore, 
 themselves Jews, found it natural and important to ad- 
 dress them in terms derived from the old economy; 
 and hence we find no figures more abundant than those 
 which are derived from the temple and its rites. In 
 this instance, the mind of the apostle Peter, full of the 
 strains of Old Testament psalmody, thinks of his adora- 
 ble Redeemer as predicted in the 118th Psalm. The 
 words of David are : " The stone which the builders 
 refused is become the head stone of the comer." All 
 in a glow with the image, his imagination under divine 
 influence, proceeds to carry up a spiritual structure on 
 this foundation, and to fill it with a worshipping spir- 
 itual Israel. So he breaks forth : " To whom coming, 
 as unto a Hving stone, disallowed indeed of men, but 
 chosen of God and precious, ye also as Hvely stones are 
 built up a spiritual house, an holy priesthood, to offer 
 up spiritual sacrifices acceptable to God by Jesus 
 Christ." The warmth of Oriental style does not shrink 
 from aD. that our severer rules might regard as a mix- 
 ture of metaphors. The rapid transition of mind here 
 
404 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 
 
 certainly gives origin to a double figure ; for the same 
 persons who in one clause are called the temple, are in 
 the next represented as the worshippers. Both temple 
 and worshippers, in the type, were intended to show 
 forth the Church of God, or the entire body of sanctified 
 believers. Prom these words, therefore, I would invite 
 you to consider with me the Church of the Lord Jesus 
 Christ as a temple. 
 
 1. It is a SPIRITUAL HOUSE. The apostle Paul 
 speaks of a house not made with hands, eternal in the 
 heavens. Here also we may say with him, " that was 
 not first which was spiritual, but that which is natural, 
 and afterwards that which is spiritual." Such is the 
 order of divine revelation to the human mind. We 
 are led from the material to the immaterial. Common 
 apprehensions fail to reach this ; and there are many 
 who never get beyond that which can be seen and felt. 
 But in proportion as we gain insight into God's plan 
 and are elevated by faith, we learn to value the things 
 unseen, and awake to the knowledge of a vast and glo- 
 rious spiritual universe, of which all that surrounds us 
 is but the husk and emblem. Our Lord was continually 
 engaged in lifting the minds of his disciples from all 
 the glory of their darling shrine, to the wonders of an 
 imperishable house. You remember that when they 
 would have attracted his admiration to the buildings of 
 the temple, he replied, " See ye not all these things ? 
 Verily I say unto you, there shall not be left here one 
 stone upon another, that shall not be thrown down." 
 
THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 4()5 
 
 All was to make way for a masterpiece of spiritual 
 architectm'e, which only the wise and the beheving have 
 eyes to behold. 
 
 2. It is very obvious that, of this spiritual temple, 
 the " BUILDER AND MAKER IS GoD." It is for his glory 
 and for his residence. The plan and the execution are 
 his. In all ages of the world his eye has contemplated 
 this structure, and his arm is carrying it forward. In 
 the spiritual temple, God is pre-eminently doing his ovm 
 work ; manifesting his own perfections ; exalting created 
 intelligences to purity and happiness ; and producing 
 those heavenly virtues which are more precious than all 
 the marble, gold, and gems of the earth, and which are 
 wrought only by the Spirit of hohness. 
 
 3. Yet this spiritual temple, Teared by the hand of 
 the infinite Spirit, is nevertheless no shadowy edifice. It 
 is in a high sense real, being composed of human be- 
 ings. Angels may contemplate the work and aid in 
 it, but they form no part of it. " Ye," says our apostle 
 to Christians, " ye, as Hvely (that is, living, animated) 
 stones, are built up a spiritual house." Such is the 
 value and dignity of a human soul, made in the image 
 of God, redeemed by the Son, and dwelt in by the 
 Spirit, that there is a consummate glory in a structure 
 of which every component part is such a soul. In other 
 places, the individual believer is represented as a temple 
 of God ; but here, by a change of figure, which beauti- 
 fully and expressively brings forward the fellowship, 
 multitude and union of believers, the whole are set be- 
 
406 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 
 
 fore US as compacted into one perfect structure. The 
 stones are no longer masses of granite, marble or por- 
 phyry, but men, redeemed and sanctified, and here- 
 after to be perfected and glorified. Every saint has his 
 appointed place. The temple comprises all the righteous, 
 who have been, are, and shall be to the end of time. 
 We often think of behevers, as separate existences, and 
 sometimes of the Church on earth at a particular time ; 
 but we must also rise to the contemplation of the com- 
 plete body, in which not one true servant of God is 
 wanting, from righteous Abel to the last who shall be 
 summoned to glory by the final trump. 
 
 4. The temple has a foundation. We need not 
 wander far to find what it is. " Behold, I lay in Zion 
 a chief corner-stone, elect, precious.*' " Other founda- 
 tions can no man lay than that is laid, which is Jesus 
 Christ." " Built upon the foundation of the apostles 
 and prophets, Jesus Christ himself being the chief cor- 
 ner stone, in whom all the building fitly framed together 
 groweth unto an holy temple in the Lord, in whom ye 
 also are builded together for an habitation of God 
 through the Spirit." It was meet that the Son of God 
 should take humanity, in order that he might be the 
 foundation of this human temple. It rests on him, for 
 its coherence, beauty, grandeur and very existence. Its 
 walls are cemented by his precious blood. Every lively 
 stone in the pile bears his image, and is fashioned after 
 the head stone of the corner. His truth is the basis of 
 all faith in the Church. His righteousness is the ground 
 
THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 40^ 
 
 of all pardon, acceptance, and title to life. His Spirit 
 prepares and adorns each individual member, brings 
 him into the structure and keeps him there. Each 
 soul, and all conjoined, rest and rely on Jesus Christ 
 alone, as the source of strength, union, and perfection. 
 The whole heavenly architecture is of him and for him, 
 and his divine virtue is felt in every part of it, from the 
 base to the summit. 
 
 5. The work of rearing this temple is now going 
 ON upon earth. This is expressly said by Peter : " To 
 whom coming, as hving stones, ye also are built up ; " 
 that is, ye are now in the very process of being built 
 up a spiritual house. It may be aflSrmed that our 
 sinful world is permitted to remain chiefly, if not solely, 
 for this very purpose, that the work of the hving temple 
 may go on. When a wise architect is about to frame a 
 great edifice, he selects his site, designs his plan, and 
 gathers his materials. From the guilty race of Adam 
 God is perpetually choosing and calling those who shall 
 be the hving stones in his temple. Though the con- 
 summation is to be in another state, the busy process of 
 preparation and erection is in this. When the temple 
 of Solomon was to be reared, what hewings, shaping and 
 transportation of cedars in the forests of Lebanon ; what 
 excavations in the quarries of the vale ; what castings in 
 the plain of Zarthan ; what moulding and carving of 
 gold and silver among the artificers of Israel. All was 
 looking towards the going up of the stately waQs upon 
 Moriah, without the sound of axe or hammer. Thus may 
 
 If ri fw 
 
408 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 
 
 we gain an emblem of what is now in process among 
 ourselves. Our state is altogether preparatory. Nothing 
 has yet taken its real shape. All that we call the work 
 of rehgion or of the Gospel among men, is only the 
 getting out of the material, or the building of it into its 
 place. Forgetting this, we frequently judge amiss of 
 all that God is doing, and " quite mistake the scaffold 
 for the pile." No wise critic will judge of a half-finished 
 architecture. At such a stage much is temporary, much 
 is obscure, all is incomplete. The beautiful idea of the 
 artist hes hidden among a chaos of platforms, engines, 
 and heaps of rubbish. Such is precisely the condition 
 of the Church below. It is at best but a small part of 
 the entire structure, which belongs to all ages, and 
 which is to see an age when behevers shall be increased, 
 perhaps, as a thousand to one. Much that we behold 
 is, after all, only scaffolding that shall be removed, or 
 rubbish that shall be cast away. But meanwhile the 
 work is going forward, and the walls, however slowly, 
 are rising. Every thing in God's providence respecting 
 the present world is made to lead to this. All preach- 
 ing of the Word, diffusion of truth, conversion of sin- 
 ners, and edification of saints, are means in God's hands 
 for carrying up his structure. Prophets and apostles 
 are humble instruments in the work. Thus Paul, a 
 wise master-builder, says : " Ye are God's building. I 
 have laid the foundation, and another buildeth thereon. 
 Know ye not that ye are the temple of God, and that 
 the Spirit of God dwelleth in you ? If any man defile 
 
THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. ^qq 
 
 the temple of God, him shall God destroy; for the tem- 
 ple of God is holy, which temple are ye." 
 
 6. But we must go further. Not only is the work 
 going on, but under the mighty hand of God the pro- 
 cess is so conducted by the wise position, due adjust- 
 ment, and manifold mutual relations of all the parts, as 
 to procure that symmetry and perfection which is one 
 day to be the admiration of the universe, who will see 
 in it the brightest display of the Divine perfections. 
 The plan is perfect, and, unlike human plans, is carried 
 out with the absence of all defect and error. Prom the 
 massive foundation to the humblest interior appendage^ 
 all belongs to one perfect draught ; all exhibits one sub- 
 lime idea. Every stone, timber, moulding, surface, tint 
 and pinnacle, is just what was designed, in its proper 
 place and just connexion. In every well-ordered build- 
 ing, there are parts which could not be anywhere else, 
 without being useless, offensive, or hurtful. So in the 
 " spiritual house," each of the " lively stones " is laid 
 according to God's infaUible design ; each soul is built 
 into its proper niche, each Christian that is born into 
 the world appears at the right time and place, if not for 
 his o^vTi highest exaltation and reward, yet for the grand 
 result of the Divine fabric. Each has a fixed relation 
 to all the rest, but chiefly to those which Ue nearest. 
 Of aU the millions of converted souls, there is not one 
 which has not his office and function in the extensive 
 scheme; and though, strictly speaking, the Creator 
 cannot be said to need any of his creatures, yet in 
 
410 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 
 
 reference to the execution of his plan, each individual is 
 demanded for the very position which he occupies. The 
 structure does not rise "like an exhalation," suddenly 
 and all at once, but by slow degrees. The times for 
 each successive development in the Church are ordered 
 by an infinite Wisdom; and while our impatience 
 murmurs at the tardiness of Him with whom " a thou- 
 sand years are as one day," every revolution, persecu- 
 tion, reformation and re\ival, falls out exactly at its 
 predetermined instant, while "the building groweth 
 unto a holy temple in the Lord." As part answers to 
 part by a felicitous arrangement, each member con- 
 tributes its appropriate service. The truth of God and 
 the graces of his Spirit pervade the whole ; and the 
 religious advancement of the humblest behever tends to 
 the general end ; for every part is connected with Christ, 
 " from whom the whole body, fitly joined together and 
 compacted by that which every joint suppHeth, accord- 
 ing to the effectual working in the measure of every 
 part, maketh increase of the body, unto the edifying 
 of itself in love." Our views are necessarily limited to 
 the growth of the Church in our own particular age, 
 and even this demands a scope of observation wider 
 than is given to most ; but the Infinite Mind takes in 
 the lapse of ages, contemplates periods yet more aston- 
 ishing than any which have revolved, and sees the mag- 
 nificent spiritual house, going up in stately proportions 
 through them all. 
 
 As each renewed soul is just that which God has 
 
THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 4]^]^ 
 
 made it, bom in the country and the age which he 
 foreknew, trained by providences which he designed, 
 and removed to the upper world at his good pleasure, 
 we may rest assured that Divine skill will never want 
 proper instruments, and that no vacuity will exist in 
 those temple-chambers, for lack of men or talents, when 
 their hour has come. In surveying the past, we observe 
 a beautiful fitness and an enchanting variety in the ma- 
 terials which have been already built into that part of 
 the edifice which has thus far been reared. How unlike 
 the corps of prophets to the corps of apostles ; and how 
 unhke the several individuals of each. We have Scrip- 
 ture authority for placing these among the most honour- 
 able and sustaining parts of the fabric, near the corner- 
 stone ; for we are " bmlt upon the foundation of the 
 apostles and prophets." Isaiah with his evangehc 
 clarion, Jeremiah with his pastoral reed of sorrows, and 
 David with his many-voiced harp, sometimes loud in 
 notes of triumph and sometimes subdued to the voice 
 of weeping, stand out with a marked individuahty which 
 becomes the more surprising, the more nearly we ex- 
 amine the distinctive features. They may be likened to 
 those immense but goodly stones, carried up in courses, 
 along the precipitous side of the valley, to form the 
 bases for the temple of Solomon. The twelve apostles, 
 including the last and, humanly speaking, the greatest, 
 though brethren, how unhke! Who, for an instant, 
 could mistake Paul for Peter, or either of them for 
 John ? They occupy salient angles of the great foun- 
 
412 
 
 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 
 
 dation, and lie nearest to the corner-stone, elect and 
 precious. Some of their brethren, though not visible 
 in the front which meets our eye, may have done equal 
 service in the bearing up of the mass. Martyrs and 
 confessors found their place, in succeeding ages, as the 
 wall advanced ; some as glorious for ornament as strong 
 for use. When love needed a signal display, amidst 
 the blood of martyrdom, we see it immortalized in an 
 Ignatius and a Polycarp. When stalking heresy needed 
 a front of steel to stand unmoved against aU its columns, 
 we find an "Athanasius against the world." When 
 the language of Greece is to be elevated to new dignity 
 by conveying the wonders of Christianity, we hear the 
 golden eloquence of a Basil and a Chrysostom. When 
 Roman philosophy had died out of the world, we behold 
 it revived in an Augustine, the father of the fathers. 
 Later down in ages, we catch ghmpses even amidst 
 Romish corruptions of a Bernard and a Kempis. The 
 note of alarm is given to a sleeping carnal church, first 
 by Wiclif, Huss and Jerome, then by Zwingle, Luther, 
 Calvin, and Knox. But time would fail me, should I 
 try to illustrate by particular instances the truth, that 
 in God's building every variety of temper, genius, and 
 talent finds its place, and that heavenly wisdom will 
 never suffer any want of material for the sacred walls. 
 Let it be for the encouragement of such among us as 
 are conscious of no high powers, and who sometimes 
 wonder for what service in Christ's Church we are fit, 
 that in a great structure all the component portions are 
 
THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 4]^ 3 
 
 not equally great. There is not only the solid and the 
 costly, the rock and timber ; not only the precious and 
 ornamental, the gold and silver ; but likewise the hum- 
 ble and subsidiary, yea, even the otherwise valueless and 
 the minute; for not even mortar and earth can be 
 spared from the construction. The Great Builder has 
 some lowly crevice in his house, which the meanest and 
 feeblest of us may occupy. We may not be called to 
 bear up buttresses, or to crown turrets, or to adorn the 
 carved work of the sanctuary ; but it should satisfy us, 
 if in some remote recess and unknown shade, we fulfil 
 the office which the Master has laid upon us. 
 
 The building of God, compared with which all hu- 
 man enterprises and structures are as nothing, goes on 
 in a manner unobserved by men, in a mysterious silence, 
 though often amidst surrounding turmoil and alarms. 
 Divine Providence can turn to its own account events 
 the most untoward and convulsions the most appaUing. 
 The blood of martyrs was the seed of the Church. The 
 irruption over the Greek and Roman nations of the 
 great barbaric hordes from the Indo-Germanic stock, 
 laid open the way for the coalescence of Christianity 
 with a new social and pohtical element, to which we 
 owe our language, our laws, our freedom, and our 
 modem civilization. We read that the second temple 
 went up " in troublous times." The wall of the Chris- 
 tian fabric has done so too. Dreadful and sinful as 
 wars are, they are instruments in God's hand ; and when 
 we hear the hurtle of arms and the shriek of battle- 
 
414 ''^SE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 
 
 fields, we may consider that Jehovali has not forgotten 
 his temple ; these sounds are but the blasts of his 
 quarry or the crash of cedars in his forest of Lebanon. 
 The conquests of Charlemagne and his successors car- 
 ried the Gospel, more or less purely, into regions 
 hitherto pagan. That great event of our day, as yet 
 partially understood — ^the revolution in China — ^how- 
 ever it may result, shows how easily the high wall of 
 separation might be broken down and the triumphant 
 standards of Christianity carried in. And that great 
 European conflict, for the crisis of which the whole 
 civihzed world is now waiting with breathless expecta- 
 tion, direful as must be its proximate effect, will un- 
 doubtedly in some way tend to the upbuilding of 
 Christ's kingdom. " Surely the wrath of man shall 
 praise thee; the remainder of wrath shalt thou re- 
 strain." 
 
 7. The Hving temple is to have an extension and 
 GLORY, even on our earth, such as has never yet been 
 attained. How far the walls have thus far risen no man 
 is competent to declare. But the work is daily ad- 
 vancing. Whatever some may find it convenient to 
 assert, in favour of darling hypotheses, religion is in pro- 
 gress. To go no further back than the beginning of 
 this century, which has been the era of Bible and Mis- 
 sionary associations and triumphs, we see an undeniable 
 extension of the Christian area on earth. But the 
 Scripture abounds with declarations of a latter day, the 
 glory of which is yet future. " In the last days it shall 
 
THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 4^5 
 
 come to pass, tliat the mountain of the Lord's house shall 
 be estabhshed in the top of the mountains, and it shall 
 be exalted above the hills ; and people shall flow unto 
 it. And many nations shall come and say. Come and 
 let us go up to the mountain of the Lord, and to the 
 house of the God of Jacob." In a great edifice, the 
 later stages of construction are those which most reveal 
 the beauty of the conception. Therefore God addresses 
 his Church : " The glory of Lebanon shall come unto 
 thee, the fir-tree, the pine-tree, and the box together, 
 to beautify the place of my sanctuary ; and I will make 
 the place of my feet glorious"" Hasten on, O blessed 
 day, when the resplendent towers of Zion shall catch the 
 rising beams of the returning Sun of righteousness ! 
 
 8. But let me not longer detain you from the 
 truth, that for the completion of the living temple we 
 must look to THE HEAVENLY STATE. Scripturc mcta- 
 phors and similitudes must not be so pressed as to 
 urge a meaning out of every particular, nor must we be 
 surprised if the parable does not show a perfect exact- 
 ness in all its subdivisions. It has been said long ago, 
 that similes and what they represent are often like 
 circles ; they touch only in a single point. If therefore 
 we have thus far considered the spiritual house as going 
 up in this world, we may by a shght variation of the 
 image regard it still more precisely as attaining its real 
 form and finish in the world to come. In this view, all 
 that takes place here below is but the preparation of 
 materials, the selection of the Hvely stones and the 
 
416 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 
 
 goodly cedars, the excavation, hewing, felling, squaring, 
 shaping and polishing ; in expectation of being trans- 
 ported to the Jerusalem above. The home of the 
 Church is not here. Here we have no continuing city, 
 but we seek one to come. At no one period, even the 
 brightest before the second coming, are all the members 
 of Christ gathered together in one place. We often 
 think and speak as if little was accomphshed, because 
 little is seen on earth. But we forget that only part of 
 the living structure is here, and this a small part. 
 Every moment, blessed souls, fitted by gracious dis- 
 cipline in this vale, by the axe and hammer and furnace 
 of trial and the moulding hand of sanctification, are 
 carried away in angelic arms, to be placed in the house 
 above. This is only the preparatory state. Out of this 
 mass God is gathering his elect and taking them to his 
 temple. Are there not millions already in heaven ? and 
 are there not more countless millions yet to be gathered 
 thither ? Then, when the last redeemed one shall be 
 caught up, to be added to the transcendent pile, "he 
 shall bring forth the headstone thereof with shoutings, 
 crying, Grace, grace unto it ! " In the visions of the 
 beloved disciple, we see the figure swelhng in ampli- 
 tude, and the house becomes a city, " the holy Jerusa- 
 lem, descending out of heaven from God, having the 
 glory of God, and her light like unto a stone most 
 precious, even like a jasper-stone, clear as crystal ; its 
 wall having twelve gates, and at the gates twelve angels, 
 and names written thereon, which are the names of the 
 
THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 
 
 417 
 
 twelve tribes of Israel, every several gate of one pearl, 
 and the street of the city pure gold, as it were trans- 
 parent glass." 
 
 Let us awake. Christian brethren, to the reality of a 
 spiritual structure, for which such preparations are 
 making around us. We are in the midst of the labours 
 which are to result in this great monument of divine 
 wisdom, power, and love. What are our earthly palaces, 
 what our civil and military marvels of architecture, 
 what our toils and accumulations, compared with this 
 building of God, which is to outlast the world ? The 
 people of this world, we know, are absolutely indifferent 
 to the temple which is rising. They sneer at it as the 
 antediluvians treated the ark ; they are ignorant of it, as 
 were the Tyrians and Zidonians of the first temple, even 
 while unwittingly they aided it ; or they oppose it, as 
 the Samaritans did the second temple. Nevertheless, 
 the foundation of God standeth sure, having this seal, 
 the Lord knoweth them that are his. If the house is 
 rejected, so was its corner-stone. Still it is ascend- 
 ing, and God's purposes are working themselves out. 
 There is nothing which we can do in life so important 
 as to contribute in some humble measure to the up- 
 building of the Church. It is the only work of which 
 the fruit cannot be lost. One soul, saved by our means, 
 is a living stone added to the edifice. One soul made 
 hoHer and better through our labours, is a new orna- 
 ment to the unseen sanctuary. Not a toil, a self-denial, 
 or a tear, shaU fail of recognition ; though lost to the 
 27 
 
418 THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 
 
 view of men, " the day will reveal it." Open the eye 
 of faith and behold God's great work of regeneration 
 and salvation, which proceeds incessantly and success- 
 fully. The question is a solemn one : Am I in this 
 temple or out of it? There is no middle ground. 
 Have I come to Christ, the chosen precious comer- 
 stone ? Am I builded upon his truth, his righteous- 
 ness, his person ? Am I in union and communion with 
 that multitude of saints, who, as lively stones, are knit 
 together indissolubly in this subHme and increasing 
 structure? Have I any good hope, through grace, 
 that I shall be among the constituents of the heavenly 
 city? The answer is important now; but the day is 
 coming, when the answer shall be one of doom ! If 
 yea, lift up your head, and bid farewell to every anxious 
 thought about inferior things. What are the loss or 
 gain, the pain or joy, of threescore years and ten, when 
 you look towards the things which are not seen, which 
 are eternal ! But if the answer be nay, pause this in- 
 stant. All is at stake. Remaining thus without, all is 
 lost, and forever. That headstone, however precious to 
 them that beheve, is no comer-stone to you ; but " a 
 stone of stumbling, and a rock of offence." "For 
 whosoever falleth on this stone, shall be broken." Are 
 we in our senses? Have men ever heard of their 
 danger and their way of escape, that all should lie in 
 so profound an apathy? God's temple will still be 
 complete and glorious, though you should form no 
 part of it. Much that seems (by church profession) to 
 
THE CHURCH A TEMPLE. 4^9 
 
 belong to the structure, is only an appendage or a 
 seeming — " wood, hay, stubble." " The day shall declare 
 it, for it shall be revealed by fire ; and the fire shall try 
 every man's work of what sort it is." And some who 
 escape shall " hardly be saved," yea, " saved, so as 
 by fire." May God own us, beloved, in that day! 
 Amen. 
 
XIX. 
 
 STEENGTH IN CHRIST 
 
STRENGTH IN CHRIST * 
 
 Philippians iv. 13. 
 " I can do all things throngli Christ which strengtheneth me." 
 
 When we consider that, next to that of the Lord 
 himself, no biography of the New Testament is so fully 
 given as that of the Apostle who uttered these words, 
 we are led to infer that his life and character were 
 meant to be closely studied, as affording the aid of ex- 
 ample and incitement in the ordinary course of Christian 
 duty. The variety of circumstances in which he is pre- 
 sented is remarkable, and gives occasion for the disclo- 
 sure of every holy sentiment which belongs to the re- 
 newed nature, in its noblest and freest development. 
 In his sorrows and his joys, his activity and his 
 restraints, we see in Paul the moving power of an 
 * New York, New Tear's Day, 1855. 
 
424 STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 
 
 inward principle, whicli overturned and renewed his 
 whole being. Perhaps it is not going too far to say, 
 that no mere man ever lived who has operated so exten- 
 sively upon Christians in succeeding ages, in the way of. 
 example. Through him, though compassed about with 
 infirmities, God seems to have chosen to show how true 
 grace will work in a great diversity of conditions. In 
 the Epistle now open before us, he is in those straits 
 which sometimes make Christian equanimity difficult in 
 our lower degrees of rehgious growth. But the maxim 
 whereby he supports himself is one suited to a more 
 general apphcation, and suited like all high comprehen- 
 sive truths to every state. The kind gift of his Philip- 
 pian brethren had led him to touch delicately on his 
 necessities ; but he checks himself : " Not that I speak 
 in respect of want ; for I have learned (rare lesson) in 
 whatsoever state I am, therewith to be content. (Gen- 
 tile philosophy attempted the same result, but without 
 success, for want of the principle which we are about 
 to consider.) I know both how to be abased, and how 
 to abound, (both difficult cases ; for some have fallen by 
 prosperity, whom Satan has vainly assaulted while 
 poor.) Everywhere and in all things I am instructed 
 (or, more exactly, I am initiated as into a mystery) both 
 to be full and to be hungry, both to abound and to 
 suffer need. I can do all things through Christ, which 
 strengtheneth me.'' 
 
 Can there be presented a more appropriate senti- 
 ment for the year, or for every year ? 
 
STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 425 
 
 tyPhere is, then, a strengtli in Christ, which so be- 
 comes the strength of the behever, that trusting in his 
 Lord he may be equal to every demand of suffering or 
 performance/ Such is the proposition which I would 
 unfold before you. 
 
 You will observe in the very expression an avowal 
 of weakness. It is unlike the vaunting of Stoics and 
 other sages, who, arrogant in their own resolved virtue, 
 stood up to cope with every opponent that should 
 affi-ont them. Men of this temper abound, and their 
 language is lofty. They are in armour of proof, and 
 are mighty of will. Their nerve, resolution and purpose 
 are not to be thwarted by any difficulty. The pride of 
 a heroic morahty holds them up. But he that trusteth 
 in his own heart is a fool. And we have seen battle- 
 fields strewed with the fallen, who have gone to the 
 encounter of temptation without the aid of heaven. 
 Such a champion, haughty and self-rehant, the youthful 
 Saul had been, when his Pharisaic decision sustained 
 itself against the angehc countenance of Stephen and 
 the gentle power of Christ. But he had been lowered 
 in his tone, that he might be exalted, and softened that 
 he might become enduring. He had been brought into 
 a conflict, in which he was fain to cry, " I know that 
 in me, that is in my flesh, dwelleth no good thiag ; for 
 to will is present with me, but how to perform that 
 which is good I find not." In the desperation of this 
 ordeal, he had burst forth, " O wretched man that I 
 am 1 who shall dehver me from the body of this death ? " 
 
426 STRENGTH m CHRIST. 
 
 and rising to life, as he beheld his dehverer, had sub- 
 joined, " I thank God, through Jesus Christ our Lord/' 
 It was Christ, who was his strength ; and in this per- 
 fect and communicable strength, he could do all things. 
 Christ strengthened him ; and Christ stands ready to 
 strengthen the believer in our day. 
 
 Here as everywhere in the survey of experience, we 
 are made to recognise the beautiful coherence of all 
 divine truth, and to perceive how an inward sentiment 
 of great value is based upon a solid doctrine of the 
 system. The doctrine which acts as pedestal to the 
 column, is that of ChristV union as head with the be- 
 hever. " The head of every man is Christ." Never 
 was this precious doctrine more nobly unfolded or more 
 urgently pressed, than in the writings of Paul himself. 
 The acts of the Redeemer are for the redeemed. He 
 took their nature, assumed their liabilities, answered for 
 their dehnquency, procured their pardon, accomplished 
 their justification, and abides in connexion with them, 
 for all the manifold ends of their salvation. For them 
 he was born, for them he lived, for them he died, for 
 them he rose, for them he ascended, for them he inter- 
 cedes and reigns. He is made to each of them. Wis- 
 dom, Righteousness, Sanctification and Redemption. 
 The funded treasury of his merits, his wisdom and his 
 might, are theirs. If he is strong — and " Thou Lord 
 in the beginning hast laid the foundation of the earth, 
 and the heavens are the work of thine hands " — it is a 
 strength available for the very meanest of all his saints. 
 
STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 427 
 
 Observe how Paul, after saying. Col. ii. 9, " In him 
 dwelleth all the fulness of the godhead bodily," imme- 
 diately adds, " And ye are complete in him, which is 
 the Head of all principality and power." There is, 
 from those celestial and unseen fountains, a perpetual 
 flow downwards to our world, where the heirs of the 
 kingdom, amidst a thousand weaknesses, are struggling 
 along towards the purchased possession. Of these, 
 many a one, contemplating this reserve of power and 
 deposit of wealth, has forgotten his thorn and the buf- 
 feting of Satan, and has exulted, " Most gladly, there- 
 fore, will I rather glory in my infirmities, that the power 
 of Christ may rest upon me ; therefore I take pleasure 
 in infirmities, in reproaches, in necessities, in persecu- 
 tions, in distresses, for Christ's sake ; for when I am 
 weak, then am I strong." Here, then, is the confession 
 of weakness, but here also is the avowal of strength. 
 And surely, O Christians, it is worth your inquiry, how 
 you may find tliis strength and exercise this confidence, 
 in those various conditions which await you in the re- 
 mainder of life. 
 
 1. And here it seems most natural to make our be- 
 ginning with the particular trial which drew these words 
 from our apostle. It was that of poverty, or worldly 
 embarrassment, which in every age has been the lot of 
 the majority of mankind, and especially the majority of 
 Christians. The fact that rehgion has wrought its 
 chief wonders among the humble, and that God has 
 chosen the poor of this world, " rich in faith," is too 
 
428 STKENGTH IN CHRIST. 
 
 clear to be questioned ; but tbe reasons of the fact may 
 not be so apparent. Among them may be these ; first, 
 that the infinite benevolence of God stoops with its 
 comforts and supports to those who are most sunken, 
 who suffer the greatest ills, and who are despised by 
 the luxurious and magnificent. Therefore into ten 
 thousand cottages and even hovels, the blessed Jesus, 
 who was himself a poor man, has entered, to convey the 
 " durable riches " of grace. And then, the humbling 
 influence of penury and want, scanty fare which keeps 
 daily fast, and sadness which ensures nightly vigils, the 
 hardships of aching limbs, nakedness, uncertain lodging, 
 wailing children, contempt of the lofty and oppression 
 of the strong — ^this humbhng disciphne — ^fits the soul 
 of man for that message which passes unheeded by the 
 mansions of ease and self-importance. However it may 
 be accounted for, the people of God, in the best periods 
 of the Church, have often found themselves in a situa- 
 tion of straitened means. Moreover, the sohcitude 
 and fear of the heart may vex those who are far above 
 the condition of degraded indigence or open men- 
 dicity. Clouds may overhang the morrow of the indus- 
 trious father, the pallid widow, or the lonely rehct of 
 a once, prosperous house; when channels run low, re- 
 sources fail, as the barrel and the cruse seem near 
 exhaustion. Times of commercial depression some- 
 times bring compulsory retrenchment into hundreds of 
 Christian families at once. And poverty, my brethren, 
 even in this wider sense, is a trial which it is hard to 
 
STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 429 
 
 bear. Dependence is a yoke that galls the delicate 
 sensibihty. The heart of a good man may faint for a 
 moment under the unexpected load. You, who never 
 knew a day of hunger or shuddered at the knock of 
 an obdurate creditor, would find your resolution brought 
 to a rude test, if suddenly your household state should 
 be reduced to the standard of the poor. The very ap- 
 prehension of a reverse, so depressing and yet so com- 
 mon, brings the servant of God to the point of weak- 
 ness ; and after his first agitation, he proceeds to take 
 account of his spiritual stock. How is it with the bank 
 of faith ? What hold is there on the treasure in heaven ? 
 Many a one, blessed be God, has been able to reply, in 
 the terms of the Old Testament, " Although the fig-tree 
 shall not blossom, neither shall fruit be in the vines ; 
 the labour of the ohve shall fail, and the fields shall 
 yield no meat ; the flock shall be cut off from the fold, 
 and there shall be no herd in the stalls ; yet will I re- 
 joice in Jehovah, I wiU joy in the God of my salvation." 
 THE LORD GOD IS MY STRENGTH. Ycs, the Ncw Tes- 
 tament behever, seeing more clearly, will more tri- 
 umphantly add, the Lord Jesus is my strength ; 'I can 
 do all things through Christ which strengtheneth me. 
 I can be abased and can abound ; I can be fuU and be 
 happy. I have that part which cannot be taken away, 
 bags that wax not old, investments that cannot be de- 
 preciated. My security is eternal in the heavens. My 
 treasure and my heart are above. Having Christ, I have 
 all things. Without him the wealth of kingdoms would 
 
430 STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 
 
 but sink me to ruin ; with him, I can be content upon a 
 crust. My soul is strengthened to peace and acquies- 
 cence. He to whom I have committed the greater, \\dll 
 be surety for the less. " Is not the life more than meat, 
 and the body than raiment ? " I am firm in the persua- 
 sion that my Lord and Master, who has my love, wUl 
 never aUow me to sink under cares of this hfe. Thus 
 the power of Christ is glorified in the experience of many 
 a straitened but contented soul. 
 
 2. This case, then, of temporal necessity was that 
 which drew out the beheving and exultant affirmation 
 of Paul. But the source of power and solace and 
 assurance, is equally full for every instance of worldly 
 solicitude. Let us look at one of the most familiar. 
 As we are year by year journeying towards the certain 
 termination of our course, in death, so we may be said 
 to be dying daily. Each New Year's day marks an- 
 other approach to dissolution. Even under the roses 
 of health, the worm is at its fatal work. In some, the 
 S3rmptoms of mortality are striking and undeniable. 
 To themselves and others, they appear as frail, decaying 
 creatures. Sometimes there are vehement shocks of 
 acute malady, which foreshadow the taking down of the 
 shattered tent. Sometimes there is a train of weak- 
 nesses, aches, and despondencies, which keep the sum- 
 mons forever at the door. In such as attain old age, 
 that period is but a long, incurable disease. Nothing 
 more convicts man of his feebleness, than bodily dis- 
 temper. A few nights of rolUng and tossing in the sea 
 
STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 432 
 
 of pain, suffice to bring robust and stalwart health 
 into puling infirmity. We do not find that earthly re- 
 sources avail much in this contest. The blow that first 
 strikes the body, presently lacerates the mind. " The 
 spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity, but a wounded 
 spirit who can bear ? " Here, then, just where nature 
 surrenders, is the point where grace triumphs. Such 
 strength is given in every age of the church, every 
 day, yea, this very moment. Take the extreme case, 
 where death is certain and near. The Lord Jesus has 
 not withdrawn his helpful arm. Nay, some of his 
 chiefest condescensions are vouchsafed to those who 
 have " the sentence of death " in themselves, that they 
 should not trust in themselves, "but in God which 
 raiseth the dead." Our benign Redeemer loves to hold 
 up the sinking head of one whom he is about to release 
 forever. " He giveth power to the faint : and to them 
 that have no might he increaseth strength." In pro- 
 portion as the promise of worldly good is abohshed, the 
 faithful soul grows mighty in the certainty and nearness 
 of heavenly good ; pledged to hun in that divine Head, 
 who bare our sicknesses and carried our sorrows, and 
 who can be touched with a feeling of our infirmities. 
 Nor dare I confine the enjoyment of Christ's strength 
 to these particular classes of trial. Poverty and illness 
 are, after all, not the most bitter and weakening of hu- 
 man woes. There are secret troubles, gaping wounds 
 of the spirit, mortifications, disappointments and griefs, 
 which are aU the more fitted to cast down and to unman, 
 
432 STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 
 
 when they cannot be revealed to the eye of vulgar exam- 
 ination, or ask the lips of forward condolence. What- 
 ever the heart sinks under, causes a necessity for Christ's 
 aid ; and there it is ! Amidst aU the consciousness of 
 sin, he who has entrusted his all to the freeness of the 
 covenant, can be strong in the Lord and in the power 
 of his might. " God is our refage and strength, a very 
 present help in trouble; therefore will not we fear, 
 though the earth be removed, and though the moun- 
 tains be carried into the midst of the sea." It is not 
 the sufferer, it is the Saviour who is strong. " Their 
 Redeemer is mighty ; the Lord of hosts is his name." 
 The cordial is suited to every case. The year can bring 
 no exigency which the strength laid up in Christ shall 
 not meet. Make it yours, beloved hearer; and let 
 God's invitation resound in your heart, " For I the Lord 
 thy God will hold thy right hand, saying unto thee. 
 Fear not, I will help thee." Isa. xh. 13. 
 
 3. From temporal, let us go to spiritual troubles. 
 There is a great conflict with sin, in which we need 
 divine strength. Woe be unto us, if Christ does not 
 help us here. It is a conflict in which every one of us 
 will be engaged, either to conquer or be conquered. If 
 Paul could rise and testify, he would declare that all his 
 other contentions, not excepting his fighting with beasts 
 at Ephesus, were nothmg to this; and all true Chris- 
 tians have had a similar experience. The more ad- 
 vanced we are in holiness, the more shall we regard 
 other trials, such as affect the body, or the property, or 
 
STRENGTH IX CHRIST. 433 
 
 the reputation, as not worthy to be named along with 
 those which endanger the conscience. The greatest 
 enemy we can possibly have, is he who makes us sin. 
 The father of Hes, who was a murderer from the begin- 
 ning, has made his grand effort just here. His per- 
 petual endeavour is to beguile or terrify the Christian 
 into sin. He had the effrontery and diabolical madness 
 to make an experiment with the Apostle and High 
 Priest of our profession, in a threefold temptation. But 
 the god of this world found that he had nothing in 
 Jesus ; no tinder in that bosom upon which his hellish 
 sparks could kindle. His hopes are greater in tempt- 
 ing poor, fallen, partially sanctified humanity. Great 
 ai*e his successes for a time. If you call those Chris- 
 tians who have made high professions, he has caused 
 thousands of Christians to fall ; and he has humbled in 
 the dust many of the real brotherhood, w^hen, like David 
 and Simon Peter, they have yielded themselves to his 
 attacks. This invisible warfare is more fearful than the 
 deadhest charge upon columns of a superior human foe. 
 " For we wrestle not against flesh and blood, but against 
 principalities, against powers, against the rulers of the 
 darkness of this world, against spiritual wickedness in 
 high places." The odds are fearful, if you look at your 
 own native strength. I apprehend that the reason why 
 some are not startled by this prospect, is, that they have 
 more fear of suffering than of sinning ; or perhaps they 
 cherish a secret scepticism as to their own weakness. 
 Either of these errors is fatal to progress in rehgion. 
 28 
 
434 STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 
 
 There is that before each of us, in the way of conflict 
 and temptation, which mil not only bring all our powers 
 to the test, but will leave us defeated and utterly ruined, 
 unless we have some strength greater than our own. 
 And if we truly value holy obedience, we shall dehght 
 in the assurance that this battle is not to be fought by 
 us alone. What wiU not the soldier dare, who is led by 
 a brave and invincible commander? Such is ours. 
 " Through God we shall do valiantly ; for he it is that 
 shall tread down our enemies." Ps. Ix. 12. Not only 
 have we Christ as a leader, but as the very source of 
 our strength against sin, by our union with him, and 
 the consequent effluence from Him to us of the Holy 
 Spirit, the source of all Hght, purity and strength. It 
 is belief of this, and trust in the covenant terms, which 
 authorize the disciple to say, " I can do all things, 
 through Christ which strengtheneth me." I can stand 
 up in a struggle which would prostrate me in a moment, 
 if my own power was all. This is the victory that 
 overcometh the world, even our faith. I can pass un- 
 hm-t through temptations also, for no temptation shall 
 befall me but that which is common to man; and in 
 Christ's name I will steadfastly resist the roaring Hon, 
 knowing that the same afflictions are accomplished in 
 my brethren that are in the world. Christ's strength 
 win be mine in the moment of sore trial. 
 
 4. It remains to say something about an obvious 
 application of the words before us to the case of ex- 
 pected labours for God. In this we include every 
 
STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 435 
 
 tiling which falls under the denomination of active 
 obedience. For work, there must be strength. Por 
 Christian work, there must be spiritual strength. This 
 does not exist in us by nature ; nor even by grace and 
 after renewal does it so exist, as to be a permanent 
 stock, upon which we can draw, as something of our 
 OTMi. It is the plan of God that his redeemed people 
 should feel their dependence at every step. They are 
 not sufficient of themselves to think any thing as of 
 themselves, but aU their sufficiency is of God. This is 
 true of the ordinary course of Christian performance. 
 Every well-instructed disciple has discovered that he 
 cannot walk for a single hour without the sustentation 
 of the Divine arm. Those moments in which we are 
 left a little to our own resources, are moments of dark- 
 ness and grief, if not of disgrace and discomfiture. 
 Satan desires to have us, that he may sift us as wheat, 
 but Christ prays for us and succours us. He leads 
 the safest, truest, happiest life, who most consciously 
 leans upon the strength of the Redeemer, and takes 
 each several step of the way, with his eye fixed on the 
 Author and Finisher of his faith. 
 
 But if this is true of those labours which are ordi- 
 nary, much more strikingly true is it of such as are 
 extraordinary. Special demands of service are some- 
 times made. This is true in all branches of important 
 worldly trust. Pride or temerity might smile at the 
 grave view which an humble behever takes of new pe- 
 riods of fife, new relations, new circumstances, new 
 
436 STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 
 
 calling and office. He shrinks from what is laid upon 
 him. As Moses : " Who am I, that I should go unto 
 Pharaoh ? " As Obadiah : " And now thou sayest. 
 Go, tell thy lord, Behold Elijah is here ; and he shall 
 slay me." As Isaiah : " Woe is me, for I am undone." 
 As Jeremiah ; " Ah, Lord God ! behold I cannot speak : 
 for I am a child." As Ananias : " Lord, I have heard 
 by many of this man, how much evil he hath done to 
 thy saints at Jerusalem." When weakness is joined 
 with unbelief, prospective labours are appaUing. If we 
 could enter into the secret experience of those Chtistian 
 heroes who have achieved the greatest wonders for God, 
 we should probably find that their mighty acts were 
 not performed without some foregoing trepidation and 
 sense of incompetency. Jacob weeps and wrestles be- 
 fore he is named a prince of God. The astonishing 
 valour of Paul was a fruit of grace ; and who knows how 
 often the day of courage and endurance may have fol- 
 lowed a night of agony ? It is not only common, but 
 it is good, to feel ourselves very weak in divine things. 
 Then it is that we take hold of strength. Amidst 
 floods of apprehension, the Psalmist cries : " When my 
 heart is overwhelmed within me, lead me to the Rock 
 that is higher than I ! " Then when the self-distrust- 
 ing one beholds the countenance of heavenly friendship 
 turned full upon him, he knows on what to depend, 
 and sings, " I can do all things, through Christ which 
 strengtheneth me." 
 
 The careful examination of the text will show you 
 
STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 437 
 
 that it contains more than an acknowledgment of weak- 
 ness ; more than a persuasion that there is strength in 
 another ; it expresses the fixed purpose to go forward in 
 duty, relying on Christ. It not only says, In myself I 
 can do nothing, but In Christ I can do all things. And 
 this is the very point of faith, to which we need to be 
 brought ; nor, till we are brought thither, shall we ever 
 accomplish any high achievement in Christianity. We 
 must feel that there is solid ground under our feet, be- 
 fore we can march confidently onward. This imwaver- 
 ing belief of the treasure laid up for us in Christ, is faith. 
 It runs forward beyond the scope of sight ; beyond all 
 that has been traversed by actual experience. It takes 
 God at his word, and rests on his assurance. Believing 
 that he wiU call to no labours for which he does not fur- 
 nish strength, it attempts much, and trusts mightily 
 while attempting. The Christian, under these exercises 
 of mind, does not put off the beginning of performance 
 until the moment when he shall be sensible of Divine 
 aid flowing in upon his soul, but puts forth endeavours 
 now, in the assurance that consciousness of strength 
 will accompany sincere effort. It is the only principle 
 upon which rational obedience can be rendered. For if 
 we never undertake a duty until all inward difficulties 
 be removed, we only act over the part of him in Greek 
 fable, who deferred crossing the river till all its waves 
 should flow by. No ; true courage and holy resolution 
 will rather look the obstacle in the face, saying of it, 
 even when most insuperable to the eye of nature : " I 
 
438 STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 
 
 can do all things, through Christ which strengtheneth 
 me." 
 
 And now, with the year before us, have we not, my 
 Christian brethren, a watchword, with which to be dili- 
 gent and undaunted for God? The ancient com- 
 manders used to cheer their soldiers on the eve of bat- 
 tle, by assurances that some of their favourite deities 
 were descending to fight in the ranks ; and the false- 
 hood added vigour to their hearts and nerve to their 
 arms. But in our soldiership we have the blessed truth 
 to stimulate us, that the Captain of our salvation goes 
 before us. Come prosperity or come pain, come wealth 
 or bereavement, come health or sickness, come tempta- 
 tion or labour — ^if Christ be with us, aU shall be well ! 
 And with us he is, and will be, if we are his people, 
 and if his promise is true. We greatly err by making 
 a sort of merit of our misgivings, and groaning over our 
 weakness, as if this were pleasing to God ; when, indeed, 
 a high aspiring faith and unwavering confidence in 
 God's aid for the future, is more welcome to him, and 
 unspeakably more productive of obedience in us. If 
 you have no satisfactory persuasion that the transform- 
 ing work of grace has passed upon your souls, you 
 have a great previous question to settle, and I implore 
 you not to adjourn it. But if you have believed, you 
 may make the words of the text your own, in prospect 
 of the year. And O that, together, and as with one 
 accord, we might go forward with these words blazoned 
 on our shields ! When the Lord Jesus was about to 
 
STRENGTH IS CHRIST. 439 
 
 ascend to heaven, lie gave a solemn commission to Ms 
 original apostles, in whicli he assigned to them their 
 work. But the commission was prefaced by these 
 words : " All power is given unto me in heaven and in 
 earth." It is this mediatorial power of the Lord our 
 Master, this communicated power, resting in the Head, 
 to which we as his members are privileged to resort. 
 That strength is ours, if we lay hold of it by faith ; 
 which shows us again, what we are continually learn- 
 ing both in the Word and in experience, the value and 
 necessity of faith ; not only for first receiving Christ, 
 but for walking in him. Just so much fortitude in 
 affliction and courage in action have we, as we have 
 faith. What we want for the year is more faith. The 
 circumstances of some now present may .be greatly and 
 unexpectedly changed during the year. No preacher, 
 no friend, no father, could expound to you the particular 
 exigencies of the near future ; and when the trial comes, 
 you will feel that it is novel, and unlike aU you have 
 known before. 'For such junctures you cannot make 
 special or detailed preparation. But here is a preparation 
 which is sovereign, and universally applicable. Believe 
 in the Lord Jesus, cast yourself on his arm, and appro- 
 priate his strength. Then, though it should be your 
 lot to go down into the swellings of Jordan, you shall 
 not be taken unawares. One of the most illustrious 
 and triumphant deathbeds at which I have ever been 
 summoned to minister, was that of a lovely Christian 
 woman, of refined sensibility and timid disposition, 
 
440 STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 
 
 who was suddenly smitten down in a strange city, on a 
 journey far from friends, and out of the midst of appa- 
 rently perfect health. And yet Christ was her strength 
 and joy, and became her salvation ; so that even the 
 alarm of this strange surprise was wholly taken away 
 from her. 
 
 In the history of the Church we meet with some 
 striking instances of persons who have done extraordi- 
 nary service, and had uncommon success, whose names 
 are remembered with benediction, even in nations far 
 asunder and for successive ages. These are the men of 
 faith. They had learnt the secret of power. They 
 dared much and endeavoured much, because they were 
 backed and sustained by Christ's strength, which they 
 acted on, and about which they had no misgivings. If 
 you desKc to be more useful than you have ever been, 
 go to the field, as David against the Philistine, with a 
 steady belief that your Lord will pour in the strength 
 as certainly as you put forth the effort. Happy indeed 
 will the New Year be to you, if you set about its tasks 
 in this temper. Does the sinking of conscious weak- 
 ness unnerve and subdue you ? Turn yourself wholly 
 over upon the Everlasting Arm. For some of you, 
 beloved hearers, I have had and still have, pecuUar 
 anxieties for the changes which this very year may 
 bring about. I have lived long enough to know, that 
 great revolutions of mind and heart may be effected in 
 a very brief period. " But I fear, lest by any means, 
 as the serpent beguiled Eve through his subtilty, so 
 
STRENGTH IX CHRIST. 44]^ 
 
 your minds should be corrupted from the simplicity 
 that is in Christ." However unlikely it may seem to 
 you now — nay, however abhorrent it may be from all 
 your present feehngs — a few months or even weeks, un- 
 der new influences, may suffice to carry you down the 
 current of worldly and fashionable religion. The teach- 
 ings to which you now hsten with respect and docility, 
 wiU have lost all charm, and the simplicity that is in 
 Christ will have been exchanged for a polished but cold, 
 an attractive but uninfluential, a philosophical but un- 
 evangelical strain, which shall fill the ear and entertain 
 the intellect, and fascinate the imagination, but from 
 which Jesus crucified shall be totally absent. How 
 shall such a defection be prevented ? How shall such 
 instabihty be guarded? Only by being strong in the 
 Lord. And O if, by intimate communion with him in 
 devotional exercises, you are made to " grow in grace 
 and the knowledge of our Lord Jesus Christ," then, 
 and then only, will you be enabled to " stand in the 
 evil day, and having done all, to stand." Now, be- 
 loved, having on this first Sabbath of the New Year 
 sat together in the rest and refreshment of the sanc- 
 tuary, as under a pleasant shade by the wayside, and 
 being uncertain whether we shall ever meet thus 
 again, or who among us shall, during this period, be 
 called away ; let us arise, and lift our burdens, and take 
 up again the pilgrim staff, and set out anew upon our 
 journey. We might utter the words of Moses : "If thy 
 presence go not with me, carry us not up hence." 
 
442 STRENGTH IN CHRIST. 
 
 Ex. xxxiii. 15. The Lord has been with us; let us 
 hope that he will not forsake us. As a church we can 
 do all things, through Christ which strengtheneth us. 
 We can cling together ; we can grow ; we can open out 
 bosom to receive the young, the stranger, and the wan- 
 derer; we can abound in good offices and acts of 
 charity ; we can break forth to found new colonies for 
 Christ ; we can part with property, health, friends, yea, 
 life itself, at the Master's call ; we can drink deeply at 
 the wells of truth, and derive nourishment from the 
 bread of the Word ; we can cast behind us old sins, and 
 put on us the armour of hght, letting our godly exam- 
 ple shine on all around us ; we can rejoice alway, and 
 glory in tribulation also. All this, and more than this, 
 can we do through him that strengtheneth our hearts. 
 But without Him, branches separated from the Vine, we 
 can do nothing. 
 
XX. 
 
 YOUTH EENEWED IN AGE 
 
YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE* 
 
 Isaiah xl. 31. 
 
 " But they that wait upon the Lord shall renew their strength ; they 
 shall mount up with wings as eagles ; they shall run and not be 
 weary ; and they shall walk and not faint." 
 
 Compared with Psalm ciii. 5. 
 
 *' Who satisfieth thy mouth with good things ; so that thy youth is 
 renewed like the eagle's." 
 
 Statues would be erected to the man who could 
 disclose the secret of a happy Old Age. For while the 
 most of mankind desire longevity, the judgment is 
 equally universal that the decline of life is painful. 
 The same law, however we may expound it, which 
 binds over the entire race to dissolution, makes the 
 avenues to death full of terror. The sentimentahsm 
 and poetry of our day, in a vain contest with the nature 
 
 * N"ew York, January 20, 1850. 
 
446 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 
 
 of things, would hang garlands over the grave, and 
 educate the rising race in a persuasion that death has 
 no horrors. But nature, how often soever driven out, 
 persists in returning. We dread death ; and we dread 
 that old age which procrastinates it. Such is our 
 dilemma. Viewed from the terrestrial side, the fearful 
 object is seen aright. It is revelation, and grace con- 
 firmed to us by revelation, which clear the prospect. 
 In what manner this is effected will be made apparent, 
 if we consider these two statements included in our text. 
 1. That Old Age is naturally a time of weakness and 
 trouble ; but, 2. That Christian confidence and hope in 
 God give freshness, strength and joy, even in the period 
 of Old Age. 
 
 I. Old Age is naturally a time of weakness and 
 trouble. We see it for ourselves ; even if we have not 
 begun to feel it. Till lifted out of the common track 
 of opinion, every one looks on the aged as withdrawn 
 from the path of happiness. Civilization and its refine- 
 ments have undoubtedly elevated the condition of the 
 aged, as truly as of the female sex. Yet even this is 
 often no more than a dehcate feigning; for if rank, 
 wealth, place and power be abstracted, there is nothing 
 reverential in such appellations as " the old man " and 
 " the old woman." In this country, at least, we are on 
 this head more Athenians than Lacedemonians. Of a 
 surety we do not imitate the Hebrew, who is taught to 
 rise up before the hoary head. Universally we attach 
 to old age associations of debility and consequent mth- 
 
YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 4 4 'J' 
 
 drawal from the arena of excitement and the bower of 
 mirth. The old man's faculties are dim, and his sus- 
 ceptibiUties are obtunded. He is left out of the pro- 
 gramme of entertainment. If called to feasting, he is 
 expected to say with Barzillai : " Can I hear any more 
 the voice of singing men and singing women ? " In a 
 great number of instances, also, age is regarded as a 
 disqualification for active service. And these results 
 strike us more forcibly in those ruder states of society 
 where nature presents its nude reality. All the history, 
 all the fiction, all the observation of the world, ascribe 
 to this stage of the human journey much of shadow, 
 cloud, and obstruction. As it respects the fact, the case 
 is not otherwise presented by Scripture. These are the 
 days in which the weary one says : " I have no pleasure 
 in them." If lengthened out, "yet is their strength 
 labour and sorrow." " Surely every man walketh in a 
 vain show ; surely they are disquieted in vain ; he 
 heapeth up riches and knoweth not who shall gather 
 them." In the prospect of such hours of gloom, the 
 Psalmist prays : " Cast me not off in the time of old 
 age ; forsake me not when my strength faileth." When 
 the youthful wish for long life, they seek they know not 
 what. Age is solitary ; the tritest figure is the most 
 apt : the tree whose branches have been lopped off, tiU 
 it stands a naked trunk. Such is the tax paid for lon- 
 gevity. Decline does not commonly arrive without a 
 succession of warnings, enigmatically depicted in that 
 strange oriental passage which closes the Ecclesiastes. 
 
448 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 
 
 Limbs grow stiff; the repast is toilsome ; articulate ut- 
 terance is hindered ; sight and hearing become obtuse ; 
 pains visit and revisit the frame, and at length make 
 settlement. Caution waxes inordinate, and turns into 
 timorous apprehension. Seasons of hilarity decrease, 
 and the wintry nights are long. It requires something 
 from another sphere than that of nature, to prevent 
 despondency, suspicion and discontent. If the diseases 
 which portend departure act on the physical functions, 
 the sadness of a worldly Old Age is deplorable. If 
 poverty or neglect or domestic disappointment be added 
 to the loss of all life's pleasures and excitements, old 
 age is a great and almost insupportable malady. Yet 
 observation, in aU varieties of condition, shows that the 
 love of life abides in perfect vigour. We might expect 
 that very weariness of living would make the old man 
 prompt to go ; but the ligament becomes only more 
 tenacious. The wisest instructor we ever had used to 
 say, and to say in old age, that natural decay pro- 
 duced no increase of readiness to depart. An eminent 
 writer on Pastoral Theology reports, as of his own ob- 
 servation, that more than a hundred young persons, 
 whose deathbeds he visited, passed away in peace ; that 
 the middle aged clung more closely to life ; but that 
 the most unwilhng of all were the aged.* Even the 
 crime of self-murder is perpetrated oftener by the young 
 than the old. At no period does man hang on worldly 
 
 * " Erfahrungen am Kranken und Sterbebette ; " von E. Kuendig. 
 Basle, 1856. 
 
YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 449 
 
 things with a more tenacious clutch, than when they 
 are all about to be rent away together. This very 
 much levels the condition of rich and poor in old age. 
 The wealthy sinner has that which he can no longer 
 enjoy ; yet never did he so yearningly gape for more. 
 The ship is in the very harbour ; yet the voyager is 
 amassing fresh stores. It is a madness which consti- 
 tutes part of the punishment of an irrehgious life. The 
 thirst of gain is insatiable. Comedy and satire in all 
 languages have painted the same picture. Young 
 enthusiasts think that when they shall be old and rich, 
 they will diffuse blessedness on hundreds around them ; 
 and it is true this would tend to make the close of hfe 
 delightful. But when they have reached the point, 
 alas, the heart has grown old and is withered. Scores 
 may have died who might have been claimants for aid ; 
 poor kinsfolk may have been long ago warned off by 
 the chilly barrier ; the doleful habitation may have its 
 valves all opening inwards ; and yet there is not enough. 
 Just such a spot, in Gentile mythology, was the hell of 
 Tantalus. Such old age is trouble and sorrow. So 
 Solomon concludes ; " There is one alone, and there is 
 not a second ; yea, he hath neither child nor brother : 
 yet there is no end of all his labour : neither is his eye 
 satisfied with riches ; neither saith he. For whom do I 
 labour, and bereave my soul of good ? This also is 
 vanity, yea, it is a sore travail." Ecc. iv. 8. 
 
 Even the true Christian, when his case is viewed 
 without the solace of which we shall presently speak, 
 29 
 
450 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 
 
 sometimes passes through great trials in the latter por- 
 tion of his life. To some the Valley of the Shadow of 
 Death is long and dreary. Diversities of corporeal dis- 
 ability, family vexation, and mental agitation or depres- 
 sion, assault and weaken the resolution which has with- 
 stood repeated shocks. And I freely own, that if we 
 could take no higher view of life than that which is 
 admitted by the sceptical world, we should abandon 
 the worn-out creature to his despair. He might, in 
 lucid intervals of a partial belief, cry out to his Maker, 
 " Whv hast thou made all men in vain ? " What can 
 be more melancholy, than a soul about to migrate to an 
 unknown state ? There is something so contrary to 
 nature in the forced attempts at gayety which some- 
 times disgrace aged people of the world, that society is 
 prompt to manifest its disgust. The gravitation of na- 
 tive temperament prevails over all such affectations, 
 mockeries and disguises. The soHtary hour is honest, 
 and it is dark. Outward mementoes are multiphed. 
 Ah, in how many funeral processions must the survivor 
 walk with sad decorum, himself a living sermon to all 
 around ! " Because man goeth to his long home, and 
 the mourners go about the streets." No longer delighted 
 to Hve, yet afraid to die, the worldly man who has sur- 
 vived his contemporaries, grows sullenly silent and 
 keeps his own secret. Por to whom shall he go with 
 that complaint, which only serves to break the spell of 
 his cherished delusion and reveal him to himself ? Dear 
 as his gold is, he would almost barter it all for a draught 
 
YOUTH RENEWED IS AGE. 
 
 451 
 
 of that fountain of youth which Spanish adventure 
 sought in tropical America. The poor disquieted suf- 
 ferer is faint, and discovers, that so far as nature reaches, 
 old age is a time of weakness and trouble. 
 
 II. Christian confidence and hope in God give 
 freshness, strength and joy, even in the period of Old 
 Age. "They that wait on Jehovah," or in modem 
 English, they that wait for him, who evince their trust 
 in his goodness and power by patiently awaiting the 
 fulfilment of his promises, they, though no longer 
 young (mark the contrast with v. 30), " shall renew 
 their strength; they shall mount up on wings like 
 eagles, they shall run and not be weary, and they shall 
 walk and not faint." The same thought is in the 
 thanksgiving of the one hundred and third Psalm, 
 V. 5 : " Bless Jehovah, O my soul, who satisfieth thy 
 mouth with good things, so that thy youth is renewed 
 like the eagle's." From both we may conclusively 
 gather that Divine grace has influences to bestow which 
 can counteract and often annul the debihtating tenden- y^ 
 cies of Old Age. We are not authorized, it is true, to^ 
 teach that any degree of rehgious ajffection can turn 
 back the shadow on the dial-plate, restore its auburn 
 beauty to the gray head, or neutralize the physical 
 causes of distress ; though even here, such is the power 
 of spirit over matter, that history shows marvels of an 
 almost youthful gladness in blessed Christian old age. 
 But we may and can assert, that he whose habits have 
 been formed in a perpetual waiting upon God, receives 
 
452 YOUTH EENEWED IN AGE. 
 
 a hallowed unction of grace, which, so to speak, makes 
 him young again, or, m^ore properly, keeps him from 
 waxing old within. In the most rapid survey, we have 
 considered some of the causes which make this season 
 of life formidable. All ages have observed them ; all 
 philosophies have sought to destroy or lessen their force. 
 The most accomphshed of all Roman authors has left 
 nothing more finished than his celebrated tract on Old 
 Age. Short of the meridian beam of revelation and its 
 reflections, nothing ever showed more nobly ; yet the 
 ray of its consolations is but a beautiful moonlight. In 
 vain is the venerable Cato introduced to teach us secrets 
 which Cato never knew. In this gem-hke treatise 
 Cicero refers the troubles of age to four classes. Old 
 Age, so he tells us, is feared because (1) it withdraws 
 from the affairs of hfe ; because (2) it brings infirmity 
 of body ; because (3) it abridges or ends our pleasures ; 
 and (4) because it leads to death. Already, in treat- 
 ing of these several heads, much is said truly, ably, 
 and to a certain extent satisfactorily, on the first and 
 third topics; but on the last, there is nothing but 
 melancholy conjecture. Even in regard to the other 
 heads, of business, health and pleasure, the suggestions 
 are infinitely below those known by the humblest Chris- 
 tian rustic. Por what did this great and eloquent Ro- 
 man know of the oil which grace pours into the sinking 
 and almost expiring lamp ? 
 
 It is not to be denied, when we come with candour 
 to the investigation, that as a general truth, Old Age 
 
YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 453 
 
 withdraws men from the employments of Hfe, and seals 
 up the active business years. In the great majority of 
 instances, however, this retreat for labour is voluntarily 
 sought long before the access of grave infirmity. In^ 
 deed, in prosperous communities, many retire too early, 
 under a chimerical hope of enjoying an elegant repose, 
 for which they have made no provision by mental cul- 
 ttire and disciphne of moral habits. There is, it is 
 true, another sort of recession from productive labours, 
 which we occasionally observe in old men, and which 
 arises whoUy from an unchastened selfishness. Let any 
 one grow wealthy without the warming and expanding 
 influences of benevolence, and he will more and more 
 lose his interest in all that is going on in the world. 
 Even wars and revolutions touch him only in their 
 financial aspects, and the daily journal is to him not so 
 much a courier of news, as a barometer of loss and 
 gain. Without rehgion, the circle becomes more con- 
 tracted. Friends have departed, by scores if not by 
 hundreds. What cares he for mighty movements in 
 behalf of humanity and hohness around him ? What 
 cares he for posterity, the country or the world, so that 
 he can exalt his own gate, or die worth some round 
 sum which floats before him as his heaven ? In the 
 same degree he wraps himself in his mantle, which is 
 daily shrinking to his own poor dimensions. This is 
 misery indeed. Take away the blessed sun, and every 
 thing becomes wintry, frozen, all but dead : take away 
 more blessed love, and the heart is dumb, cheerless, in- 
 
454 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 
 
 sulated, meanly poor, so that the Latins named such a 
 one MISER. Let us leave him, shivering in his cave, 
 overhung with icicles, and come out into the evening 
 sunshine to consider the aged beHever. He is like 
 Mnason, " an old disciple." He still learns. The 
 Greek story tells us that when Solon lay dying, and 
 overheard some conversation on philosophy in his apart- 
 ment, he raised his head and said, " Let me share in 
 your conversation, for though I am dying I would still 
 be learning." Ten thousand times has this been more 
 reasonably exemplified in dying Christians, who con- 
 sider the whole of this life as but the lowest form of 
 the school into which they have been entered. And in 
 regard to activity, while modes of service must vary 
 with the bodily condition, we are bold to maintain that 
 innumerable Christians now living are, in advanced life, 
 impressing the whole engine of human affairs with as 
 momentous a touch as at any previous stage of exist- 
 ence. If there is Wisdom, the proper jewel of age, and 
 divine grace in its manifold actings, there need be no 
 lack of influence. They still lift up the eagle pinion, 
 and soar in such greatness as belongs to their nature. 
 But the point to which we would ask more marked at- 
 tention is this, that the aged believer, so far from being 
 selfishly dead to what is going on in the world, is more 
 vigilant and more in sympathy with all, than even in 
 his days of youth. Blessed be God, we have seen this 
 again and again. The man who waits on God, the 
 man of faith and hope, the man of melting benevolence, 
 
YOUTH RENEWED IK AGE. 455 
 
 looks tlirough the loopholes of retreat upon a world 
 whose vast and often terrific revolutions interest him 
 chiefly as included in a cycle of providential arrange- 
 ments calculated to develop and exhibit the glory of 
 grace. His heart beats responsive to these. The news 
 of Christ's kingdom is as dear to him as when he was 
 vehemently active in the field. He looks down the 
 ages by the lamp of prophecy, and beholds events 
 which will take place when he shall have been long in 
 paradise. This connects him with the cause of Christ 
 on earth, and redeems him from that miserable dungeon- 
 like seclusion of soul which wastes away the aged 
 worldhng. So far is it from being true that these por- 
 traitures are figments of religious imagination, that we 
 have been led to the choice of the subject by knowledge 
 and recollection of this very paradox in actual example, 
 to wit, extreme old age made light, strong and happy, 
 by community of interest in the progressive triumphs 
 of philanthropy and missions. 
 
 When, according to the Talmudic fable, the eagle 
 soars toward the sun, he renews the plumage of his 
 former days. As the serene disciple withdraws himself 
 from any personal agency in the entangling plans of life, 
 he studies more profoundly what his Master is wea\ing 
 into the web of history. No longer young, he has 
 a heart which gushes in sympathy with the young. He 
 cheers them on. He places the weapons in their hands. 
 He takes from the wall his sword, shield, and helmet, 
 and rejoices that God still has younger soldiers in the 
 
456 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 
 
 field. He lives his life over again in their achieve- 
 ments, and pictures to himself more signal victories 
 after he shall have gone. Like the wounded hero Wolfe, 
 he could even die more happy if the shout of victory- 
 should arouse his failing perception, Par from being 
 shut up in morose neglectful selfishness, he glories that 
 God's cause still lives and must prevail. 
 
 2. But, then, you retort, there is a sad infirmity, 
 inseparable from Old Age. Piety, however exalted, 
 will not remove this. Of all diseases this is proverbi- 
 ally the most incurable. Brethren, we might take the 
 high ground, that godliness hath the promise of the 
 life that now is; that temperance and other virtues 
 prolong life and avert disease ; that the righteous shaU 
 " see good days," and that religion is the best of all 
 medicines. But fearing lest we should be charged with 
 exaggeration by the inexperienced, we wiU pitch our 
 cause on a lower plane, and rest content with declaring 
 that Christian confidence and hope confer a strength 
 which is perfectly compatible with all this bodily weak- 
 ness, decay and pain. Christianity, my hearers, is a 
 system of indemnities. It does not insure us exemp- 
 tion from all losses, but it guarantees that these shall 
 be more than made up to us. True, the grand indem- 
 nification is at the recompense of the resurrection. But 
 prelibations of glory are poured into the earthly vessels 
 of grace. The quickening charm is not natural, but 
 supernatural. Mark, in the twenty-eighth verse, how 
 the eternal increate fount of good is pointed out ; and 
 
YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 457 
 
 learn how the fulness of God, through a Mediator, be- 
 comes the available supply of man : " Hast thou not 
 known ? hast thou not heard, that the everlasting God, 
 Jehovah, the Creator of the ends of the earth, fainteth 
 not, neither is weary ? There is no searching of his 
 understanding. He giveth power to the faint r Here 
 is human infirmity brought into connection with Om- 
 nipotence. Here is the solution of Paul's enigma, 
 "When I am weak, then am I strong." Here is 
 Christ's cordial to the aged, *'My strength is made 
 perfect in weakness." But let us return to our prophet. 
 He represents even blooming adolescence as despond- 
 ing, while the feeble are made powerftd by faith. 
 *'Even the youths shall faint and be weary, and the 
 young men shall utterly fall ; but they that wait on the 
 Lord shall renew their strength." 
 
 In the return from Babylon the oldest were sad- 
 dest ; for they remembered the glory of the first house. 
 Nehemiah, therefore, had peculiar reference to them, 
 when he said to the weeping assembly, " Neither be ye 
 sorry ; for the joy of the Lord is your strength." Holy 
 joy is a springhead of renewed youthfulness. The 
 effects of grief and age are not unlike. How often 
 have we seen a friend go into the house of mourning, 
 young, and come out old ? Such was David's expe- 
 rience, Ps. xxxii. 3 : " My bones waxed old, through 
 my moaning all the day long ; for day and night thy 
 hand was heavy upon me : my moisture is turned into 
 the drought of summer." The cedars and palms of 
 
458 ■ YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 
 
 the sanctuary, planted in the house of the Lord, " shall 
 still bring forth fruit in old age, they shall be fat and 
 flourishing," Ps. xcii. Make a soul thoroughly glad, 
 and you make it young. The effusion of divine joys 
 has virtue to annul outward disabihties. For observe 
 the perfect analogy of another passage concerning 
 strength. Is. xxxv : " Strengthen ye the weak hands, 
 and confirm the feeble knees : say to them that are of 
 a fearful heart. Be strong, fear not ! " " Then shall the 
 lame man leap as an hart, and the tongue of the dumb 
 shall sing." Such is grace, superseding nature, conciH- 
 ating contraries, making the feeble mighty and giving 
 youth to the aged. And how greatly would our ex- 
 perience and observation of the gift be increased, if with 
 higher faith and expectation we were waiting upon 
 God! 
 
 3. The antechamber of the Eternal abode is cold 
 and appalling to nature. This makes Old Age unwel- 
 come to the unprepared. This causes the wretched 
 shifts by which they avert the thought of doom. So 
 successful is the delusion, that the man of seventy plans 
 for to-morrow as if he were not already in many senses 
 dead. No man is so old, says Cicero, but that he thinks 
 he may live another day. And so from day to day, as 
 by stepping stones in the turbid stream, they totter on, 
 till the sudden fall plunges them into eternity. 
 
 The fear of death, which on the young sometimes 
 works salutary reflection, often becomes to the aged a 
 motive for abstracting the thoughts from the hateful 
 
YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 459 
 
 subject ; and so they think of something else, and are 
 damned. I dare not undertake to say, what may be 
 the reflections of the old worldHng, when he lies down 
 for the last struggle, and finds that Eternity is dawning 
 on his soul, and yet that he has not made the least pro- 
 vision for meeting his God. But I know, for I have 
 often seen, how strong in faith and hope may be the 
 old age of the true Christian. After all, it is celestial 
 HOPE which sheds the dew of youth on his silver locks. 
 His posture is that of waiting, as watchers expect the 
 dawn. " More than they that watch for the morning." 
 Fresh blood seems to course through those outworn 
 arteries, as Hope waves the hand of indication towards 
 perpetual spring and everlasting youth. Not in the 
 mere elysian or Mohammedan sense, though we deny 
 the attributes and enjoyments of that bodily comple- 
 ment of the soul which is to be raised in incorruption, 
 in glory, in power, a spiritual body. But the fresh 
 breath of knowledge, of reason, of truth, therefore of 
 beauty, of love, of universal holiness, is wafted from 
 those gardens to the ancient behever, as he worships, 
 * leaning on the top of his staff,' and sojourns a Httle 
 in the land of Beulah. We have sometimes seen the 
 clearness and vigour of former years come back. Call 
 not that man old, who is full of joys and hallelujahs, 
 and who is eager to drop the clog, shuffle off the mortal 
 coil, and soar like a bird set free from the snare of the 
 fowler. Call him old who is inveterate in sin ; who 
 never prays ; who dares not think of death ; who is 
 
460 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 
 
 without God and without hope, and on whose hoary- 
 head no blessing ever descends. The Simeon who has 
 Christ in his arms, has in him a well of water spring- 
 ing ; and so the true fountain of youth. All believing 
 and sublime exercises of Christian experience have in 
 them something as fresh as childhood. Once when I 
 was supporting a very aged believer from the house of 
 God, he turned to me and said : "I never felt younger, 
 and I believe that promise is fulfilled in me. He * satis- 
 fieth thy mouth with good things, so that thy youth is 
 renewed like the eagle's.' " This persuasion, that true 
 rehgion brings the soul into fellowship mth all that is 
 free, hopeful and advancing in earth, and all that is 
 bright and perfect in heaven, led the most distinguished 
 of late German theologians, Schleiermacher, to say, in 
 the close of a long life : " The true Christian is always 
 young." 
 
 The racy old EngHsh of John Bunyan best sets 
 forth this stage of pilgrimage : " Here they heard con- 
 tinually the singing of birds, and saw every day the 
 flowers appear in the earth, and heard the voice of the 
 turtle in the land. In this country the sun shineth 
 night and day. Here they were within sight of the city 
 they were going to : also they met some of the inhab- 
 itants thereof ; for in this land the shining ones com- 
 monly walked, because it was upon the borders of 
 heaven. In this land also the contract between the 
 Bride and the Bridegroom was renewed, yea, here, * as 
 the bridegroom rejoiceth over the bride, so doth their 
 
YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 
 
 461 
 
 God rejoice over them." My beloved brethren, we 
 must be submissive to God's will, even if such an even- 
 ing of life be not vouchsafed to us. Yet I will maintain, 
 that it is of the nature of Christianity to produce such 
 joys. The exceptions are not from grace, but from* 
 disturbing causes in our partially unsanctified hearts.' 
 Waiting on God is directly promotive of fresh and \ 
 heavenly strength. The long continued practice and i 
 rooted habit of waiting upon God, in confidence and I 
 expectation, are the best preparative for a serene decline ' 
 and a happy end. 
 
 If the sentiment of the world may be safely judged 
 from its reflection in the mirror of the fictitious litera- 
 ture, which is seized with most avidity and reproduced in 
 the greatest number of languages, then unquestionably 
 the opinion is, that there is no happiness in evangehcal 
 piety ; and an Old Age of rehgion is one of sourness, 
 vindictiveness, and misanthropic woe. Let the picture 
 of a Christian matron be painted by the matchless pen- 
 cil of one, whose misfortune it must have been never to 
 have beheld the original, and with whom devotion and 
 hypocrisy are the same, and the Hneaments are such as 
 these : " Great need had the rigid woman of her mys- 
 tical religion, veiled in gloom and darkness, with hght- 
 nings of cursing, vengeance, and destruction, flashing 
 through the sable clouds." I quote from the ignorant 
 and mahgnant travesty of Christian Old Age, which 
 mars the most widely current story of the hour. And 
 I quote it, because it will meet response in hundreds 
 
462 YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 
 
 of thousands, who need the grace of Christ to avert 
 these very storm-clouds of decUning day. Let a holier 
 literature prevail in the refined world, a literature which 
 shall honour holy wedlock, family rehgion, and the 
 iChurch of Christ, and we shall behold other por- 
 traitures of the wife or the widow upon whom evangel- 
 ical truth has shed its dews of eventide. 
 
 You listen, my hearer, with the interest of one who 
 expects to journey thitherward. But you will perhaps 
 never reach that stage of the way. A small proportion 
 attain to hoary hairs. Yet even for you, the topic is 
 not devoid of interest. That which is good for Old Age 
 is good for other conditions of sadness, which resemble 
 it ; for illness, disease, pain, solitude, reproach, poverty, 
 or depression. When you shall have learnt to wait on 1 
 the Lord, you shall tread all these under your feet, as f 
 ready to fly heavenward. 
 
 That which prepares for Old Age, prepares for the 
 termination of life at any age. It is decreed that every 
 human life shall close ; and most close early. To go 
 suddenly and unprepared into that shadow is fearful. 
 Does not wisdom commend this familiar, trustful, filial 
 waiting upon God? The judicious and eloquent Sau- 
 EiN wished that he might in every sermon make some 
 allusion to Death, because he had remarked how imi- 
 versally this consideration was affecting to the mind. 
 The Pather of our spirits meant that it should be thus. 
 Endure the contemplation long enough to chill carnal 
 
YOUTH RENEWED IN AGE. 453 
 
 ardours and dispel the juvenile mirage. Even in pros- 
 perity wait on the Lord. 
 
 It would be treachery in me to conceal altogether 
 the woe and peril of a Christless Old Age. Horrid 
 anomaly ! So dead to this world's pleasures, so near to 
 heaven or hell, and yet unconcerned. Tottering on his 
 staff, the impenitent veteran in the camp of Satan blun- 
 ders on, already half gone, and stupidly improvident as 
 to the only means of dying well. O, poor old man ! 
 let me in affection and pity cry to you, seize on that 
 only medicine which gives everlasting youth ! Attach 
 yourself, by acquiescing in his free redemption, to that 
 Saviour whom we are authorized to offer to the worst 
 and oldest. 
 
 'Suijpo 
 
 t 
 
 THE END. 
 
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 HISTORY OF THE CHRISTIAN CHURCH. 
 
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 JUN 22 1934 
 
 
 
 
 
 i 
 
 
 1 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 
 LD 21-100m-7,'33 
 

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