'^0 ^^^^ >fc^ ,^--1 '1™fc c G^ik9^ Wil(iayyi:2 THE REFUGE, BY THE AUTHOR OF THE GUIDE TO DOMESTICK HAPPINESS. \Vhen boist*rous winds and stormy billows roar> Disturb the deep, and rend the rocky shore. The t'oaming seas in sWellingmountains rise, Forsake their caverns, and attempt the skies : Ere long succeeds the placid calm serene. And stops the progress of the frightful scene : The rolling waves in gentle currents gli' e, Aud softly murmur d( wn the ebbing tide. FIRST AMERICAN EDITION. PHILADELPHIA ; AT THE LORENZO PRESS, PRINTED FORBRONSON &CHAUNCEY. 1804- ^.6>0'7Sr-f^^^ XC8 9231 PREFACE. Id'o^t ^jThE love of hafipincBfi is a passion predominant in the human breast ^ and for the enjoyment of which in* dividuals of every description are anxiously concerned* To say in what this happiness consists^ ®r honv it may certainly be had^ is an invidious task : because men of different tastes^ dispositions^ and capacities^ not only view the subject in different lights^ but adopt oppLosite means to obtain it. There can^ however.^ it is presumed^ be little risk ef censure to him who shall assert J That whatever has a natural tendency to irradiate the mind^ to regulate the affections^ and to meliorate the conduct^ must be friendly to happiness. Such is the wisdom^ and such the goodness of the great Pareni of the universe^ that he has provided sources of pleasure exactly suited to the compound nature of man. But it is the indelible opprobrium of our species^ that those enjoyments nvhich are merely sensual^ and of which^ in subserviency to higher endsy we might lawfully partake^ engross too frequently the whole of our attentio7i ; while those of a refined and IV PREFACE. exquisite nature^ and in which felicity might be more reasonably €Xp,ected^ are entirely neglected or forgot- ten. This is the effect of a vitiated taste which has firecifiitated thousands into inextricable difficulties^ and into which it had nearly hurried my fair corres- pondent^ of whom some account will be found in the following Introduction^ and to whom the Letters sub- joined are addressed. To him who is conscious of danger and anxious for helfi^ deliverance must be accefitable. This was once the situation of the amiable Lavinia, Her imfiortu- nate entreaties could not be heard with indifference — she was directed to the Refuge where protection ivas known to be certain ; and where she not only found security^ but the rest and the happiness she wanted. To this impression of the Befuge^ some additions have been made, which^ though not extensive^ may perhafis be thought da^erving of regard. The ivhole work has indeed been attentively examined ; and^ ij compared with the former edition^ will be founds in many places^ to have undergone alterations intended to give precision to thought^ and energy to truth. The author is^ however^ far from imagining that the labour of revision will preclude the use of criticism. Perfection is not attainable by man. But if what PREFACE. V has been donc^ shall have any tendency to promote purity of sentiment^ or rectitude of conduct : to hO' nour the gospel of God^ or to facilitate the happdness of man^ the time devoted to this purpose will not have been spent in vain. A 2 INTRODUCTION. vJ Fall the passions that agitate the human mind, there is perhaps no one more grateful in itself, or more useful to man, than sympathy. Virtue in distress is sure to attract notice and excite commiseration. The sufferings of others, it is true, cannot be witnessed without painful emotions ; but these emotions we neither wish to suppress, nor attempt to diminish : for such is the wonderful construction of our nature, and such the delightful tendency of this passion, that instead of endeavouring to avoid, we take plea- sure in approaching the object of misery. The car is open to the cry of calamity ; the tale of woe is heard with melting tenderness ; we instantly participate the grief; we mingle sigh with sigh, tear with tear, and wish, anxiously wish, toalle- 2 INTRODUCTION, viate, if we cannot remove, the cause of inqui- etude. *► To sympathy we are indebted for a thousand endearments in social life : it is the bond of soci- ety : we feel ourselves interested in the general good ; we experience more pleasure in commu- jiicating than in receiving the means of happi- ness ; and in contemplating its benign influence, perceive both the propriety and the excellency of that divine aphorism — It is more blessed to give than to receive. But though such be the general tendency of this benevolent affection, there are objects of wretchedness, on which the world has no com- passion to bestow. Men whose consciences are burdened with guilt, and harassed with painful apprehensions respecting futurity, seldom meet with sympathetick tenderness. But how are we to account for the dereliction of human nature in this case ? Is not the anguish arising from a con- sciousness of moral turpitude equally pungent with that which the loss of terrestrial comforts may incidentally occasion ? Surely the cause of INTRODUCTION. O sorrow in the former as far exceeds the latter, as the perpetual favour of Heaven transcends the mo- mentary calamities of life ! — ^ The spirit of a man will sustain his infirmity, but a wounded spirit who can bear V It may be said in answer to this inquiry, that pain of conscience has relation to guilt, and is the eifect of sin operating against a known rule prescribed for the regulation of moral conduct. In order, therefore, to sympathize with the con- trite sufferer, we must have the same ideas respecting the equity of God^s government, the detestable nature of sin, and the justice of that punishment with which it is connected. But natural men see things in a very different light. Their consciences are not under the authority of the law of God ; no beauty is beheld in the divine precepts; nor do they, it is to be feared, really believe that the commission of moral evil will be attended v/ith those dreadful conse- quences which the scriptures constantly affirm. It is, therefore, impossible, in the very nature of the case, that men with such ideas should feel for a soul tortured with guilt : the distress endured 4 INTRODUCTION. will be considered rather as chimerical than real, or at least as the effect of superstitious credulity, and as deserving raillery more than commisse- ration, or severe rebuke than serious expostula- tion. That men frequently act on this principle, in giving advice to persons under religious impres- sions, needs no proof. What more common than to hear the disconsolate mourner exhorted to shun the haunts of solitude, to rouse from the torpor of dejection, to frequent the resorts of diversion, to look for tranquillity ana pleasure in the circles of gaiety, where every eye sparkles with joy , where the ear is charmed with sprightly sallies of wit; where novelty gives perpetual delight; and the mind, released from the gloom of reflection, is restored to freedom and to hap- piness ? But these prescriptions are not adapted to the malady. They have been frequently adminis- tered, but without success. The throbs of guilt are not to be lulled by the sound of the tabret and the pipe, the harp or the viol ; and the de- INTRODUCTION. 5 luded patient who shall try the experiment, will find that he has not expelled, but increased his complaint ; and the symptoms may perhaps be so rapid and so alarming, as to generate despair of relief instead of exciting hope of deliverance. For what is the natural tendency of such admo- nitions ? Is it not saying, in effect. Be familiar with vice, or at least with vanity ; blunt the edge of remorse by the accession of fresh guilt ; hope for quiet in the midst of tumult ; and drown the clamours of conscience in obstreperous merri- ment ! Lavinia was the daughter of one of the first families in London. Her parents dying when she was young, left her to the care of an aunt, whose fortune she was to inherit, and who felt herself deeply interestedinhavingher successour instructed in all the useful and polite accomplish- ments that endear society and embelish life. At an early period, Lavinia gave ample proof that the expectations formed of her capacity and her attainments were not likely to be disappointed : for she made such rapid progress in all the branches of female education, as rendered her the pattern of all who aspired to excellence. 6 INTRODUCTION. The guardian of our young pupil, who was a woman of the first rank and fashion, could not long defer the happiness she expected to parti- cipate, when the wondering world should first witness the charms that were never beheld by her but with maternal fondness. Laviuia, who was elegant in her form, and graceful in her manners, was, therefore, introduced early into all the polite circles, and received with the most flattering- tokens of admiration. Every eye was struck with her beauty, and every tongue lavish in her praise. Nor was the marked attention paid her in all companies ungratefully received : for who can be deaf to the voice of praise ? or unwilling to belie v^e that it may be heard without vanity, and received as a just tribute to excellence, which, if hidden to ourselves and the vulgar, others, possessed of keen discernment, refined taste, and impartial judgment, have not only discovered, but kindly endeavoured to appretiate? Few were the resorts of pleasure at which Lavinia was not the rival of her sex. She was surrounded by men of the first rank, each ambitious to attract her notice, and to bow INTRODUCTION, 7 obsequious to her will. The sprightly sallies of her wit were heard with rapture ; her fascinating demeanour captivated every heart ; and she received, on every hand, those tokens of respect, a moderate share of which would have trans- ported the hearts of thousands. ' A solitary philosopher would imagine ladies born with an exemption from care and sorrow, lulled in perpetual quiet, and feasted with un« mingled pleasure y for what can interrupt the content of those, upon whom one age has la- boured after another to confer honours, and accumulate immunities ; those to whom rudeness is infamy, and insult is cowardice ; whose eye commands the brave, and whose smiles soften the severe j whom the sailor travels to adoin, the soldier bleeds to defend, and the poet wears Out life to celebrate ; who claim tribute from every art and science, and for whom all who approach them endeavour to multiply delights, without requiring from them any return but willingness to be pleased ? 8 INTRODUCTION. * Surely, among these favourites of nature, thus unacquainted with toil and danger, felicity must have fixed her residence; they must know only the changes of more vivid or more gentle joys; their life must always move either to the slow or sprightly melody of the lyre of gladness ; they can never assemble but to pleasure, nor retire but to peace. ' Such would be the thoughts of every man who should hover at a distance round the world, and know it only by conjecture and speculation. But experience will soon discover how easily those are disgusted who have been made nice by plenty, and tender by indulgence. He will soon see to how many dangers power is exposed which has no other guard than youth and beauty, and how easily that tranquillity is molested which can only be soothed with the songs of flattery. It is impossible to supply wants as fast as an idle imagination may be able to form them, or to remove all inconveniencies by which elegance, refined into impatience, may be offended. None are so hard to please as those whom satiety of pleasure makes weary of tliemselves; nor any so INTRODUCTION. readily provoked as those who have been always courted with an emulation of civility.' In the midst of affluence and splendour, of pleasure and of praise, Lavinia still found that happiness was absent. The hour of solitude could not be endured without painful anxiety. Some- thing seemed to be wanting which the world, with all its complaisance, had not yet conferred. New expedients were therefore daily invented to tranquillize the mind, and no means left untried to regain her wonted vivacity. But, alas ! the felicity of which Lavinia was in pursuit, still eluded her eager grasp. Every clay witnessed new scenes of vexation and disappointment. The wakeful hours of night were spent in tracing the causes of miscarriage ; in contriving means by which to preclude a recurrence of the same, or similar impediments; and in planning schemes to ensure felicity on the morrow. Inauspicious was the morning in which the breast of Lavinia was not transported with the recollection of some new engagement to give delight, of something nov^el to be seen ; with the hope of sparkling in the dance, of shining at the opera or the play- JO INTRODUCTION. house, of making new conquests, and of receiv- ing fresh tokens of inviolable attachment and reverence. The return of night, however, but renewed dis- gust. Every amusement was insipid: the charms of novelty were forgotten : emptiness and vanity were stamped on every enjoyment : for whether at the toilet, the ball, the theatre, or the masque- rade. Conscience would be heard — ' Lovers of pleasure more than lovers of God,' was reiterated in every place, and in accents so distinct, that the meaning could not be mistaken. Fruitless, were all attempts to shun the admonitory intel- ligence, or to blunt the pain it frequently occasioned. Reflection produced remorse; the pleasures of the world, satiety and aversion; the retrospect of life, the keenest anguish, and the prospects of futurity, the horrours of despair. The thoughtless and the gay may, perhaps, think that the views of Laviniawere enthusiastick or chimerical. But there is no ground for the conclusion. For what is the life of avast majo- rity of the great, but a scene of voluptuousness INTRODUCTION. 11 and dissipation; of vanity and extravagance? The affairs of another world, and the moral state of the human heart, are considerations that sel- dom obstruct their pursuits or interrupt their quiet. I ask, and appeal to the experience and the consciences of those whom Providence has elevated to opulence and splendour, whether, from the moment of introduction into publick life, the time allotted by HeaVen for acts of bene- ficence and virtue, is not generally spent in con- formity to the fashions of the day | in attendance at routs, and balls, and card tables; in frequent- ing the opera and the playhouse, or in ceremo- nious visits paid and received frequently, Vfith- out pleasure and without friendship. But are these pursuits worthy of an immortal mind^ Is this a life on v/hich a rational being can seriously reflect without the terrours of dis- may? — ^yetthis is the life of thousands — a life in which are to be found no traces of that purity and perfection once connatural to man ; no evidence of compunction for the violation of divine precepts, nor yet of thankfulness for the means by which guilt is expiated, and the trembling B 2 12 INTRODUCTION. delinquent rescued from perdition. Nay^ there are not only those who, like Gallio, care for none of these things, but some that openly discard them; who, though their sins be as scarlet, ' cavil at the means by which they might be made white lis snow ; and though their iniquities have been multiplied without number, revile the hand which alone can blot them from the register of Heaven.' These are they that awake but to eat and to drink; to gratify the lust of the flesh, the lust of the eye, and the pride of life. God is not in all their thoughts : his ways are always grievous ; and through the pride of their countenance they will not seek after him. Surely * it is unworthy of a reasonable being to spend any of the little time allotted us, with- out some tendenicy, either direct or oblique, to the end of our existence. And though every moment cannot be laid out on the formal and regular improvement of our knowledge, or In the stated practice of a moral or religious duty, yet none should be so spent as to exclude wisdom or virtue, or pass without possibility of qualify- ing us more or less for the better>mployment of thoGC which are to come. INTRODUCTION. 13 * It is scarcely possible to pass an hour in honest conversation, without being able, when we rise from it, to please ourselves with having given or received some advantage : but a man may shuffle cards, or rattle dice, from noon to midnight, without tracing any new idea in his mind, or being able to recollect the day by any other token than his gain or his loss, and a con- fused remembrance of agitated passions, and clamorous altercations.' The beneficent Author of our existence has,, for the best of purposes, graciously interwoven in our nature an insatiable thirst after happiness. In puYsuit of this happiness all descriptions of men are anxiously engaged; and were we to act consistently with our high origin, we should seic both the wisdom and the goodness of God, not only in the implantation of this ever active prin- ciple, but m the frustration of every hope that centres in terrestrial enjoyment. < For not in vain, but for the noblest end, Heaven bids a constant sigh for bliss ascend ; 'Tis love divine that moves th' inviting priz« Before, and still before us, to the skies ; Led by our foible forward till we know, The grod wliich satisfies is nst belov/.' 14 INTRODUCTION. But ever since the introduction of moral evil into the world, men have changed the object of happiness. They have forsaken the Lord, the fountain of living waters, and have loved and served the creature instead of the Creator. The cry of all is, indeed, Who will shew us any good? but it is a good which, if not suited merely to the animal nature, is always confined to the present life, and which, when enjoyed, is ever found inadequate both to our desires and our expectations. The truth is, we form a wrong estimate of this good, and expect from fruition that which it was never designed to commu- nicate : so that by raising our hopes too high, we lose the pleasure which might be lawfully in- dulged, and then complain of disappointment and vexation, without considering that the fault lay, not in the object itself, but in the unwar- rantable expectations it was intended to gratify. But, though perpetually foiled on every hand, Yet still for this we pant, on this we trust, And dream of happiness allied to dust. Nothing can quench our thirst for earthly good, nor damp the ardour of pursuit. No suspicion INTRODUCTION* 15 is entertained that the means and the end are at variance. Miscarriage is not ascribed to the real, but to other causes. Happiness, though distant, is still thought attainable ; we therefore change the scene, contemplate other objects, equally vain, with fresh rapture ; resume the chase with redoubled vigour, pant with ardour for the mo- ment of possession, and if divine goodness do not interpose, go on from stage to stage, till death puts an end to the career of hope, the sinner awakes from his delirium, looks round with horrour and expires ! — For < Let changing life be varied as it will, This weakness still attends, affects us still. Displeas'd for ever with cur present lot, This we possess, as we possess'd it not : Put earth's whole globe in wild ambition's power, O'er one poor world she'd weep, and wish for more. To birth add fortune, add to fortune — fame, Give the desiring soul its utmost claim ; The wish recHrs — some object unpossess'd Corrodes, distastes, and leavens all the rest ; And still to death from being's earliest ray, Th' unknown tomorrow cheats us of today. ' If any one of my readers has looked with so little attention on the world about him, as to ima- gine this representation exaggerated beyond pro- 16 INTRODUCTION. bability, let him reflect a little upon his own life; let him consider what were his hopes and pros- pects ten years ago, and what additions he then expected to be made by ten years to his happi- ness : those years are now elapsed : have they made good the promise that was extorted from them, have they advanced his fortune, enlarged his knowledge, or reformed his conduct, to the degree that was once expected? I am afraid, every man that recollects his hopes must confess his disappointment; and own, that day has glided unprofitably after day, and that he is still at the same distance from the point of happiness. * Such is the general dream in which we all slumber out our time : every man thinks the day coming, in which he shall be gratified with all his wishes, in which he shall leave all those compe- titors behind, who are now rejoicing like himself in the expectation of victory ; the day is always coming to the servile in which they shall be pow- erful, to the obscure in which they shall be emi- nent, and to the deformed in which they shall be beautiful.' INTRODUCTION. 17 In the vigour of youth and in the bloom of beauty^ surrounded by all that can flatter hope, or stimulate to action, Lavinia entered the ave- nues of sublunary pleasure in quest of happiness ; but the lovely enchantress was not to be found in the regions of terrestrial delight. All the sources of felicity were explored in vain : emptiness was stamped on every enjoyment. Our young vota- ress soon discovered that her expectations were fallacious ; that many of her pursuits were not only trifling but crimanal. A conviction of guilt filled her breast with tumult: terrifying appre- hensions agitated her soul: she beheld with asto- nishment the precipice on which she stood, the imminent danger with which she was surrounded — that there was but a step between her and everlasting ruin : and trembling' on this preci- pice, she first uttered that inexpressibly impor- tant query — ' V/hat shall I do to be saved ?' — To answer this inquiry the following Letters were first written^ The question, let it be remembered, is always proper, because it is of infinite importance. Sure- ly it cannot be imagined that the present world 18 INTRODUCTION* is the only residence of man ! and if he be to exist in a state yet future, it is highly rational to inquire, whether that existence will be miserable or happy. Men in general are, indeed, too much engaged in sublunary pursuits to attend to the concerns of another life. But this will not always be the case. The period is approaching in which conscience, if not quite petrified, will be roused from her torpor; in which she will sound the alarm, and the soul, awakened from sleep, feel the vanity of the world and of all its enjoyments. For what is the glitter of wealth, the pomp of greatness, the voice of praise, or the frisk of jol- lity, to him that is acquainted with the depravity of his own heart? who is conscious of allowed and reiterated deviations from the path of duty— of having passed the whole of life heedless of tiie counsels ofwisdomandthe dictates of conscience? It is indeed possible that the mind may be di- verted by the allurements of pleasure from minute attention to the turpitude of its own actions, but the delusion will not last for ever : a man cannot always trifle : the hour of reflection will obtrude ; and if he determine not to anticipate, he must shortly be compelled to realize the period when INTRODUCTION. W deception and artifice willbe impracticable ; when all terrestrial scenes shall be withdrawn; when the soul, no longer soothed by flattery nor seduced by hope, must converse with death; and this too in a moment, perhaps, when the avenues of mercy are closed for ever, and in which the affrighted soul will have to exclaim, in the terrours of despair, ' The harvest is past, the summer is ended, and I am not saved !' * How shocking must thy summons be, O Death ', To him that is at ease in his possessions, Who, counting on long years of pleasure here, Is quite unfurnish'd for that world to come I In that dread moment, how Jhe frantick soul Raves round the wall of her clay tenement, Runs to each avenue, and shrieks for help, But shrieks in vain ! how wishfully she looks On all she's leaving, now no longer her's I A little longer, yet a little longer, O might she stay to wash away her stains. And fit her for her passage 1 mournful sight ! Her very eyes weep blood ; and ev'ry groan She heaves is big with horrour : but the foe, Like a stanch murd'rer, steady to his purpose, Pursues her dose through every lane of life, Nor misses once the track, but presses on ; , Till forcM at last to the tremendous verge, At once she zlnks to cverlasthig ruin.' 20 INTRODUCTION, The only conviction that rushes upon the soul, and takes away from our appetites and passions the power of resistance, ' is to be found,' says an incomparable writer, ' where I have received it, at the bed of a dying friend. To enter this school of wisdom is not the peculiar privilege of geome- tricians. The most sublime and important precepts require no uncommon opportunities, nor labori- ous preparations j they are enforced without the aid of eloquence ; and understood without skill in analytick science. Every tongue can utter them, and every understanding can conceive them. He that wishes, in earnest, to obtain just sentiments concerning his condiVion, and would be intimate- ly acquainted with the world, may find instruc- tion on every side. He that desires to enter behind the scene, which every art has been em- ployed to decorate, and every passion labours to illuminate, and wishes to seelife stripped of those ornament? which made it glitter on the stage, and exposed in its natural meanness, impotence, and nakedness, may find all the delusion laid open in the chamber of disease. He will there find vanity devested of her robes ; power deprived of her sceptre ; and hypocrisy without her mask. INTRODUCTION. 21 * The friend whom I have lost was a man emi- nent for genius, and, like others of the same class, sufficiently pleased with acceptance and applause. Being caressedbythose who have preferments and riches in their disposal, he considered himself as in the direct road to advancement, and had caught the flame of ambition by approaches to its object. But in the midst of his hopes,- his projects, and his gaieties, he was seized by a lingering disease, which, from its first stage, he knew to be incu- rable. Here was an end of all his visions of great- ness and happiness. From the first hour that his health declined, all his former pleasures grew tasteless. His friends expected to please him by those accounts of the growth of his reputation, which were formerly certain of being well receiv- ed: but they soon found how little he was now affected by compliments, and how vainly they at- tempted, by flattery, to exhilirate the languor of weakness, and relieve the solicitude of approach- ing death. Whoever would know how much piety and virtue surpass all external goods, might here have seen them weighed against each other : where all that gives motion to the active, and elevation to the eminent; all that sparkles in the 22 INTRODUCTION. eye of hope, and pants in the bosom of suspicion, at once became dust in the balance, without weight and without regard. Riches, authority, and praise, los^ all their influence when they are considered as riches which tomorrow shall be be- stowed upon another: authority which shall this night expire for ever, and praise which, howe- ver merited, or however sincere, shall, after a few moments, be heard no more. * In those hours of seriousness and wisdom, every thing that terminated on this side of the grave was received with coldness and indiffer- ence ; and regarded rather in consequence of the habit of valuing it, than from any opinion that it deserved value. It had little more prevalence over his mind than a bubble that was new bro- ken, a dream from which he was awake. His whole powers were engrossed by the considera- tion of another state, and all conversation was tedious, that had not some tendency to disen- gage him from human affairs, and open his prospects into futurity. ^ It is now past: we have closed his eyes, and heard him breathe the groan of expiration. At INTRODUCTION. 23 the sight of this last conflict, I felt a sensation never known to me before , a confusion of pas- sions, an awful stillness of sorrow, a gloomy terrour without a name. The thoughts that entered my soul were too strong to be diverted, and too piercing to be endured ; but such violence cannot be lasting: the storm subsided in a short time. I wept, retired, and grew calm. * I have, from that time, frequently revolved in my mind, the effects which the observation of death produces in those who are not wholly with- out the power and use of reflection ; for, by far the greater part, it is wholly unregarded ; their friends and their enemies sink into the grave without raising any uncommon emotion, or re- minding them that they are themselves on the edge of the precipice, and that they must soon plunge into the gulph of eternity- * Surely, nothing can so much disturb the pas- sions, or perplex the intellects of man, as the disruption of his union with visible nature ; a separation from all that has hitherto delighted or engaged him ; a change not only of the place, c 2 24 IKTRODUCTION. but the manner of his being ; an entrance into a state, not simply which he knows not, but which, perhaps, he has not faculties to know ; an imme- diate and perceptible communication with the supreme Being, and, what is above all distressful and alarming, the final sentence, and unalterable allotment. 'Yet we, to whom the shortness of life has given frequent occasions of contemplating mortality, can, without emotion, see generations of men pass away, and are at leisure to establish modes of sorrow, and adjust the ceremonial of death. We can look upon funeral pomp as a common spectacle in which we have no concern, and turn away from it to trifles and amusements, without dejection of look, or inquietude of heart. ' It is, indeed, apparent from the constitution of the world, that there must be a time for other thoughts ; and a perpetual meditation upon the last hour, however it may become the solitude of a monastery, is inconsistent with many duties of common life. But surely the remembrance of death ought to predominate in our minds as an habitual and settled principle, always operating INTRODUCTION. 55 though not always perceived ; and our attention should seldom wander so far from our own con- dition, as not to be recalled and fixed by the sight of an event, which must soon, we know not hoW soon, happen likewise to ourselves, and of which, though we cannot appoint the time, we may secure the consequence. 'Every instance of death may justly awaken our fears, and quicken our vigilance; but its fre* quency so much weakens its effect, that we arc seldom alarmed, unless some close connexion is broken, some scheme frustrated, or some hope defeated. Many, therefore, seem to pass on from youth to decrepitude without any reflec- tion on the end of life, because they are wholly involved within themselves, and look on others only as inhabitants of the common earth, without any expectation of receiving good, or intention of bestowing it. ' Custom so far regulates the sentiments of com- mon minds, that I believe men maybe generally observed to grow less tender as they advance in age. He who, when life was new, melted at 26 Introduction, the loss of every companion, can look in time, without concern, upon the grave into which his last friend was thrown, and into which himself is ready to fall : not that he is more willing to die than formerly, but that he is more familiar to the death of others, and therefore is not alarmed, so far as to consider how much nearer he approaches to his end. But this is to submit tamely to th^ tyranny of accident, and to suffer our reason to lie useless. Every funeral may justly be considered as a summons to prepare us for that state, into which it shews us that we must sometime enter ; and the summons is more loud and piercing, as the event of which it warns ns is at less distance. To neglect, at any time, preparation for death, is to sleep on our post at a siege, but to omit it in old age, is to sleep at an attack. *■ It has always appeared to me one of the most strikingpassages in the visions of Quevedo, which stigmatizes those as fools who complain that they failed of happiness by sudden death. *How,' says h^, ' can death be sudden to a being who always INTRODUCTION. W' knew that he must die, and that the time of his death was uncertain V ' Since business and gaiety are always drawing our attention away from a future state, some admonition is frequently necessary to recal it to our minds, and what can more properly renew the impression than the examples of mortality which every day supplies ? The great incentive to virtue is the reflection that we must die : it will therefore be useful to accustom ourselves, whenever we see a funeral, to consider how soon we may be added to the number of those whose probation is past, and whose happiness or misery shall endure for ever.' That it is appointed unto men once to die, but after this the judgment, are truths generally ad- mitted: why then, it may be asked, are we so unwilling to contemplate the hour of departure ; why so reluctant to review a life of which an account must be given, and which, if it have not beqn wholly devoted to vicious pleasures, has, perhaps, been wasted in the pursuit of trifles, 28 INTRODUCTION. light and empty as the bubble that floats upoft the stream ? It may be said, in answer to this inquiry, that men are in general so much attached to the pre- sent scene, that prospects of a celestial nature seldom, if ever, pass in review before them* The whole, or at least the principal part of their happiness, is derived from objects of sensed consequently, these objects are sought with soli- citude; the heart pants for possession; the hope of fruition stimulates to action ; and, while this inordinate attachment continues, the mind, of course, will be diverted from attention to the one thing needful, and the time of serious reflection never occur, till the ' night cometh, in which no man can work.' Should, however, a pause be indulged in the career of life, and a recollection of the past im- bitter the sweets of the present, men console themselves with the hope of making ample repa- ration by future repentance and amendment ; not considering that they are under the government of a law which requires universal and perpetual INTRODUCTION. 29 obedience — ^which cannot, in the very nature of the case, dispense with the violation of its own precepts, and from the penalty of which the sin- ner of himself cannot possibly escape. The fact is, we are in ourselves utterly lost : under sentence of condemnation by the law of God ; and, without the interposition of mercy, must inevitably perish. To speak in scripture language, The whole world is become guilty before God ; there is none that doeth good, no, not one ; therefore by the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified in his sight. These facts, which are either not credited, or not properly considered by the world, I have endeavoured to prove in some of the subsequent letters. They are, in my view, truths of the last importance, with the knowledge and belief of which our present and our future happiness Is intimately connected : nor do I think their vali- dity can be controverted without manifest oppo- sition to the whole current of revelation. The Scriptures proceed on the supposition of the fall and depravity of man, and the principal part of so INTRODUCTION. their contents has either a direct, or a remote reference to these awful facts. If, it may be asked, we are in circumstances so dreadfully calamitous ; if human nature be so degenerate and so impotent, who then can be saved ? To answer this infinitely momentous question, divine revelation became absolutely necessary : for had all the sons of Adam been left to perish, as were the angels who kept not their first estate, no intelligence from heaven would have been requisite to prove their apos- tacy from God. They would soon have found, by painful experience, that human nature was greatly debased ; that they were, in many in- instances, under the control of inordinate appe- tites, and frequently agitated by passions which, in numberless instances, could have no tendency to promote general happiness. As creatures of God, and as subjects of his moral government, they must have considered themselves as ame- nable to some law ; and allowing this law to be founded in justice, which, as originating v/ith God, it must ; impartiality and common sense would have concurred in asserting that they INTRODUCTION. 31 could not, in the very nature of things, be released from obligation to its precepts, nor, in the case of failure, be exempted from suffering its penalty. By tlie scriptures of truth, and by these only, we know that there is forgiveness with God, that he may be feared. Without this astonish- ingly merciful intelligence, we should have been involved in perpetual uncertainty and darkness. For all the light that ever chased the gloom of doubt, or cheered the bosom of despondency ; for all ihat gives confidence to faith, energy to hope, ardency to love, or fervour to devotion ; for whatever can tranquillize the mind in life, or administer consolation at the last hour, we are indebted to the Bible. That this inestimable book exhibits a salva- tion worthy the benignity of God, and exactly suited to the wretchedness of man, I have at- tempted to prove in the following pages. To this salvation, therefore, I have directed my amia- ble friend, from whom, notwithstanding all her doubts, and all her fears, I had satisfactory evi- D 32 INTRODUCTION, dence that her sorrow was not like the sorrow of the world which worketh death. It may, perhaps, be asked, If the salvation revealed in the Bible be so admirably well adapt- ed to relieve our miseries, to encourage hope and inspire confidence in the divine benignity, whence the doubts and the fears with which La- vinia appears to be constantly harrassed ? This, I allow, is a question natural to him who has never felt the bitterness of sin ; who has never experienced the corruption of his own heart; nor ever seen, by the light of divine truth, the purity and the perfection of the blessed God. Let the querist have but a discovery of these, and he wiltsee cause enough for dejection: he will cease to wonder that the trembling sinner should rea- son like the rebel who has ungratefully risen up in arms against his lawful sovereign ; who, when contemplating the heinous nature of his crime, is led to conclude that, if punishment be remit- ted for the present, his rebellion cannot be for- gotten, nor he himself again restored to the favour and affection of his prince. INTRODUCTION. 33 But notwithstanding what the scriptures have said to excite confidence in the divine mercy through Jesus Christ, it will not appear strange that we are so slow of heart to believe, if it be remembered that unbelief is a radical evil in hu- man nature ; that by which it was first contami- nated, by which it is still influenced, and, in fact, the fruitful source of many atrocities that dis- grace the character of man. When that positive law was given by confor- mity to which the first pair v/ere to manifest their submission to the divine v/ill, they were ex- pressly told, that, incase of disobedience, ^They should surely die.' But no sooner was the command made known to Satan, that enemy of all righteousness, than he had the audacity to assert, that the prohibitory injunction might be violated with impunity — ' That they should not surely die' — declaring, at the same time. That this was only an artful pretext by which to pre- elude them from the godlike knowledge which the Almighty knew the fruit of that tree was adapted to impart. 34 INTHODUCTION. Now on this principle all men proceed in at* tempting to extenuate the turpitude of their own actions. For though God have perempto- rily declared, That he will by no means clear the guilty — that the wicked shall be turned into hell, and all the nations that forget God : yet they say, not merely of comparatively small, but of enormous sins, * The Lord shall not see, neither shall the God of Jacob regard it.' Though they continue to indulge their evil pro- pensities in almost every species of iniquity, yet they flatter themselves with the hope of escaping divine justice, or at least that, in consequence of sorrow and repentance at the last hour, the Almighty will mercifully pardon and accept them. Why, therefore, should it be thought unaccountably strange that the. real christian should, when left to himself, feel the painful effects of unbelief? be harrassed with doubts and fears, and sometimes manifest distrust of the divine goodness? Human nature is the same in both, and so totally depraved, that, without foreign aid, it has neither power nor inclination to counteract the pernicious influence of this dia- bolical principle. It is not, thereforcj the mere INTRODUCTION. ^S promulgation of a fact in reference to salvation by Jesus Christ, that will calm the perturbed mind, or excite confidence in divine mercy. The carnal mind is alienated from God j and this alienation, especially if attended with deep conviction of apostacy and guilt, generates sus- picion, and suspicion distrust : the impediments to reconciliation and to peace must therefore be removed before there can be either confidence or affection. But, as the springs to resist evil in the moral system are in man so completely weak- ened, the sinner must inevitably fall a prey to his own disease, unless he that spake the world into being mercifully interpose to save the soul from perdition. If then it be true, that in God we live, and move, and have our being; and that without his divine agency we perform no physical action, surely no argument can be wanted to prove that we must stand solely indebted to him for that faith which counteracts the sinful propensities of our nature, which purifies the heart, and over- comes the world; which, in opposition to sense, is conversant with invisible realities, and which d2 36 INTRODUCTION. not only joyfully receives, but gratefully confides in the divine testimony. If, therefore, we are not sufficient of ourselves to think any thing as of ourselves, but our suffi- ciency is of God : If faith be his gift, and no man can come to Christ except the Father draw him : If, without divine energy, we can neither over- come our natural propensity to evil, love the divine character, nor cordially trust in revealed mercy : If, after having tasted that the Lord is gracious, we cannot stand stedfast in the faith, unless he tkat began the good work perform it until the day of Christ ; what need have we to implore the Father of mercies to work in us both to will and to do of his good pleasure — that he would guide us by his counsel, and afterwards receive us to glory ! ^ THE REFUGE. LETTER I. Come then— a still, small whisper in your c\ He has no hoj)e who never had a fear ; And he that never doubted of his state. He may perhaps— perhaps he may— tou late. ^- lickly, in the synagogue at Nazaijeth, ' The spirit of the Lord is upon me, because he hath anointed me to preach the gospel to the poor ; he hath sent me to heal the broken hearted, to preach deliverance to the captives, and re- covering of sight to the blind, to4et at liberty them that are bruised, to preach fhe acceptable year of the Lord :' and is his arni shortened at THE REFUGE, 5o all, that it cannot redeem ? Know you not that he ever liveth to make intercession — that he is able to save to the uttermost — that he is exalted to be a Prince and a Saviour, to give repentance and forgivness of sins ? * PIo ! eve- ry one that thirsteth,' is the language of divine munificence : ' come, and take the water of life freely — If any man thirst, let him come vmto me, and drink.' ' He that believeth on me,' as the scripture haih said, ' out of his belly shall flow rivers of living water.' Should you $ay, in excuse for not comply- ing with the benevolent invitation, I have nothing to bring that can entitle me to share the inestimable favour ; suffer me to remind you, that the invitation extends not to those that are ricli, but to him that hath no money : nothing with which to purchase the divine clemency, or to satisfy the claims of justice. The question in this case is not, ' What am I worthy to receive : but, what has God graci- ously promised to bestow?' If, therefore, you are among the thirsty and the indigent ; ^ Come, buy, and eat ; yea, come buy wine 54 THE REFUGE. and milk without money and without price/ Poverty of spirit, remember, is no bar to for- giveness. ' For thus saith the high and lofty One that inhabiteth eternity, whose name is Holy ; I dwell in the high and holy place, with him also that is of a contrite and humble spirit, to revivje the spirit of the humble, and to revive the heart of the contrite ones.' If there be one posture of the soul more lovely and desirable than another, it is when at his footstool, in whose sight the heavens are not clean : when it can say, with Jacob, I am not worthy of the least of all the mercies, and of all the truth, which thou hast shewed unto thy servant : or, with Job, behold I am vile ; what shall I answer thee ? I will lay mine hand upon my mouth — I abhor myself, and repent in dust and ashes. The language of your heart, my amiable friend, speaks poverty of spirit : to whom then should you go but to Christ, with whom there are durable riches and righteousness?" Where- fore do ye spend money for that which is not bread ? and your labour for that which satis- THE REFUGE. 55 fieth not ? Hearken diligently unto me, is the language of Jesus, and eat ye that which is good, and let your soul delight itself in fat- ness. Incline your ear, and come unto me : hear, and your soul shall live — Return to the Lord, and he will have mercy upon you ; and to our God, for he will abundantly pardon.' Would you experience peace of conscience, and communion with the Father of mercies I these inestimable blessings, remember, are only to be enjoyed through the medium of a Saviour's blood. ^ Without shedding of blood is no remission — God was in Christ, reconci- ling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them.' Go to him, therefore, just as you are — as wretched and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked. He will clothe you with the garments of salvation. ' I counsel thee to buy of me, saith the faithful land true witness, gold tried in the fire, that thou mayest be rich ; and white raiment, that thou mayest be be clothed, and that the shame of thy nakedness do not appear ; and anoint thine eyes with eyesalve, that thou mayest see. Be- F 56 . THE REFUGE. hold, I Stand at the door, and knock ; if any man hear my voice, and open the door, I will come in to him, and will sup with him, and he with me.' In opposition to the freeness of grace, urge neither the number nor the magnitude of your crimes as a bar to forgiveness. This would be to act like the ' timorous passenger who, in a storm at sea, makes it his only business to tell the waves, and to shriek at the beating of every billow against the ship ; instead of imi- tating the industrious pilot, who hath his hand at the helm and his eye to heaven, and minds more his duty than his danger.' Nei- ther your thinking that pardon cannot be ex- tended to a wretch so vile, nor the depths of your despondency, can be admitted as evidence of your having no interest in divine mercy. Others have known what it is to groan, being burdened ; and have cried in anguish of soul, ' My way is hid from the Lord, and my judg- ment is passed over from my God.' No saint, perhaps, ever experienced more painful anxiety on this account, or exulted more in confidence THE REFUGE. ' 57 of future glory, than the psalmist. ' Will the Lord,' he asks, ' cast off for ever ? a.nd will he be favourable no more ? Is his mercy clean gone for ever ? Doth his promise fail for ever- more ? Hath God forgotten to be gracious ? hath he in anger shut up his tender mercies ? — O my God, my soul is cast clown within me — all thy waves and thy billows are gone over me. Yet the Lord will command his loving kindness in the day time, and in the night his song shall be with me, and my prayer unto the God of my life — Why art thou cast down, O my soul ? and why art thou disquieted within me ? hope thou in God : for I shall yet praise him, vv^ho Is the health of my countenance and my God.' Now, unless it can be proved that divine grace is not free for you, and as competent to supply your wants as those of the royal sup- plicant, your doubts must be groundless. The psalmist had no moral vrorth to encourage his approach to God for mercy, and on which to place his dependence for pardon and accept- 58 • THE REFUGE. ance. He saw nothing in himself, as Du Bosc expresses it, but ground for despair — The se- duction of Bathsheba, the blood of Uriah, and the numbering of his people. He knew, if the Lord were to mark iniquity, that in his sight no man living could be justified. As to the depth of his contrition before conversion, we need saj^ nothing : it is in this case quite sufficient for your encouragement that, though now a saint in glory, he was once a stranger to himself, and his carnal mind enmity to God : and in this awful situation are all the progeny of Adam without exception. The great God beholds from the height of his glory^ all of them wandering far from him in the paths of iniquity and of death. Some, wallowing in sensual pleasures ; others, delighted with gilded baubles exhibited by the world, to catch the eye and fascinate the heart. Some, grasping after riches as the whole of human happiness ; others, climbing the steep ascent of honour, and of applause : some busied about one thing, and some another ; but none that seeketh after God : he is not in all their thoughts. Every THE REFUGE. 59 thing else is viewed as desirable and pursued with avidity ; but the one thing needful is ne- glected or forgotten. But while the objects of discriminating- grace are, with others, thus wandering far from their heavenly Father in pursuit of sub- lunary bliss, he views them with unspeakable compassion ; he stops them in their mad career, and says, by his word, or his providence, Hi- therto shall ye go, but no farther. He shows them that they are v/alking in a path that is not good : he turns them back greatly ashamed ; and mercifully brings them to the knowledge of himself by a way which they knew not. But who, I ask, are the men whom the Lord thus turns from the errour of their ways, and to whom he graciously makes known the be- nignity of his heart ? Are such only, or prin- cipally, the objects of attention who are com- paratively moral and devout ; who, because, they are less vile than others, are more proud, and think that, in consequence of this negative goodness, they have a right to monopolize the felicities of glory ? No ; quite the reverse, r 2 60 THE REIUGE. Persons of this description are, in conformity to the estimate which they make of them- selves, denominated in scripture, whole — just persons that need no repentance ; and before whom, publicans and harlots enter into the king- dom of heaven. I came not to call the righte- ous, said the compassionate Redeemer, but sinners to repentance. To the same purpose speaks the great apos- tle of the Gentiles. ^ It is a faithful saying and worthy of all acceptation, that Christ Jesus came into the world to save sinners ;' of whom, he immediately adds, I am chief. ' Re- turn, saith the Lord, for thou hast fallen by thine iniquity; thou hast destroyed thyself; but in me is thy help.' To whom should you carry your complaints ; to whom unbosom yourself, but to the Father of mercies ? There is none else to deliver, and besides him there is no Saviour. Let not the number noF the greatness of your sins excite discourage- ment. When a profligate woman came to Christ, in the days of his humiliation, no men- tion was made either of the multitude, or the THE RBFUGE. 61 magnitude of her crimes ; but the answer given to the pharisee, who brought them as an objec- tion against her, is ; — ' Her sins, which are many, are forgiven.' As no comparative worthiness in the sinner can induce God to bestow mercy , so no de- merit can frustrate the benevolent intentions of divine goodness. Salvation is of the Lord : it is the effect of his own sovereign pleasure. To say, ' I will have mercy on whom I will have mercy, and I will have compassion on whom 1 will have compassion,' is the preroga- tive of Jehovah : and why the inestimable bles- sing should be conferred on any of the sons of Adam, no reason can be given but this ; that salvation, in its origin, completion, and bestow- ment, may redound to the praise of the glory of his grace. Could you exhibit a catalogue of the black- est crimes that ever stained the records of history, or disgraced the character of man ; these crimes could not be urged as too great, or too complicated for the blood of Christ to 62 THE REFUGE. expiate. To a truth so animating, and so ho- nourable to the riches of grace, the great apostle of the gentiles repeatedly bears une- quivocal testimony. Of this, we have a stri- king instance in his first admirable epistle to the Corinthian church. After having repro- ved the brethren for going to law with each other before the unjust, he reminds them of their former situation by reciting enormi- ties, the commission of which had made them deservedly the reproach of men, and justly the objects of divine abhorrence. ' Neither forni- cators, nor idolaters, nor adulterers, nor effe- minate, nor abusers of themselves with man- kind, nor thieves, nor covetous, nor drunkards, nor revilers, nor extortioners, shall inherit the kingdom of God.' Now, had the faithful re- membrancer stopt here, we might, perhaps, have considered these Corinthian profligates as without the verge of divine forgiveness. But the sequel proves, that among these abomi- nable wretches there were many vessels of mercy : and therefore he immediately adds — ' Such were some of you : but ye are washed, but ye are sanctified, but ye are justified in THE REFUGE. 63 the name of the Lord Jesus, and by the spirit of our God.' How wonderful the love, the grace, and the mercy of God! In this list of detestable criminals, we perceive sinners of every class ; sinners of enormous magnitude ; who, conse- quently, could have no moral w^orth to plead as a ground of forgiveness j and yet their iilthy souls were v/ashed in the blood of Christ — were justified by his righteousness, sanctified by his spirit, and made meet for the enjoy- ment of heaven. Surely such incontestable instances of the aboundings of grace over the aboundings of sin, must constrain us to ac- knowledge that Christ is able to save to the uttermost ! Having, therefore, indubitable evidence of the riches of grace in the salvation of such atrocious sinners, attempt not to limit its ful- ness or its freeness respecting yourself. Would you accept of pardon as revealed in the gospel for the relief of the guilty and the wretched, approach the mercy seat just as you are. Carry 64 THt REFUGE. with you all your sins — all your guilt, and frankly confess both before him that searcheth the reins and the heart. Adopt the supplica- tory language of David : ' Lord, pardon my iniquity, for it is great ;' or, rather, plead no- thing in hope of forgiveness, but the blood of him in whose name you are exhorted to come with boldness. Stretch forth the hand of faith : lay it on the head of Christ, who is a sin-bearing Saviour, and he will carry all your transgressions into a land of everlasting forget- fulness. Should you imagine, for a moment, that this merciful High Priest will not receive you as a perishing sinner ; attend to his own com.- passionate words : ' Him that cometh to me, I will in no wise cast out' — Were you charge- able with the adultery of David, the murder of Manasseh, the apostasy of Peter, and the blasphemy of Saul ; the accumulated guilt of these atrocities could not be urged as an ex- ception to the infinitely gracious declaration. Nay, were it possible to produce an individual, the turpitude of whose actions would exclude THE REFUGE. 65 from coming to Christ for mercy ; or one that did come, and was afterwards rejected, the wonderfully encouraging assertion would not be true ; nor could it be consistently affirmed, that he is able to save to the uttermost. But the Lord is the God of truth. ' He is not a man, that he should lie ; neither the son of man, that he should repent : hath he said, and shall he not do it ? or hath he spoken, and shall he not make it good ?' The works of nature may dissolve : nay, they shall certainly perish; but the word of God remaineth sure, and his truth to all generations. The Lord hath graciously declared that he will regard the prayer of the destitute, and not despise their prayer : while, therefore, you acknowledge your unworthiness, and enumerate your own wants, remind him of his own promise ; lest he should complain, and say, as he did in an- other case, ' Thou hast not called upon me, O Jacob ; thou hast been weary of me, and hast not honoured me with thy sacrifices.' No longer doubt the love of Christ revealed for encouragement to the distressed and the guilty : reject the thought as highly dishonourable to 66 THE REFUGE. God : and If the risings of hope be depressed by the prevalence of unbelief, pray that you may be enabled to give implicit credit to the testimony of his own word ; that you may be helped to say w^ith grateful confidence, * I know in v/hom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is able to keep that which I have committed unto him against that day.' Your concluding, that there can be no mercy for such a detestable wretch as your- self, arises from ignorance, or inattention to the way in which the infinitely gracious God h.ilh determined to save sinners. Pie is, remember, the ' God of salvation ; and unto God the Lord belong the issues from death.' Instead, therefore, of ransacking the heart for pious dispositions, or of adverting to good v/orks already performed, with a view to for- giveness ; attend to the gracious and instruc- tive language of him that saith, ' Thou hast destroyed thyself; but in me is thine help — I, even I, am the Lord ; and beside me there is no Saviour.' THE REFUGE. 67 The unworthiness inseparable from depra- vity and guilt, is certainly matter of deep humiliation ; but a conviction of this unworthi- ness, however pungent, ought rather to excite gratitude than despondency ; to rouse the tor- por of dejection : to impel the soul to be urgent for mercy, and to engender a hope that the kind hand v/hich discovered the disease, will not long withhold the remedy. The tes- timony of God speaks louder than the most clamorous conscience ; and to this testimony, and this only, you must appeal in determining whether your fears be ill or well founded. If you search into the cause of your distress, it will perhaps be found to arise, not from a consideration of God's unwillingness to par- don ; not from any want of efficacy in the blood of Christ to cleanse the most polluted sinner ; but from a sense of having nothing to recommend yourself to his favour. It is a conviction of this fact that imperceptibly holds the soul in bondage ; that renders your taking encouragement from God's word altogether impracticable. Should you say, ' No sins are like mine ;' let me add, ' There is no salva- G 68 ' THE REFUGE. tion like Christ's — his blood cleanseth from all sin.' If, however, you will not believe ' while your sins are so great, and your heart so pol- luted ; it is probable, w^ere your heart less defiled, and your sins less in number, that you would not believe in Christ at all. You would be more likely to trust in your own heart, and to rely on your own righteousness, instead of believing and trusting in Christ. Great sins and a bad heart, felt and bewailed, should operate in this csise like hunger, which be- comes an incentive to seek food. If men had clean hearts, it is very likely they would dispose of them otherwise, and rather think that Christ should come to them, than they to him. Instead of a man's poverty making him less desirous of relief, it should make him more importunate. To say, I will not come to Christ because I have great sins, is as if one should say, I will have nothing to do with happiness, if offered, because I have great misery : I will not go to a surgeon for healing, because my wounds are so great : I will eat no THE REFUGE. 69 bread because I am ready to starve with hun- ger. This, surely, is bad logick ; and it is not better to argue, Because I am filthy, there- fore I will not go to the fountain to be cleansed. ' But, admitting that you are a great sinner, nay, one of the greatest ; will your staying away from Christ make your sins less ? Are yo«L so rich as to pay the debt out of your own revenue ? or have you any hopes of another surety? Can complaints of a great load, with- out endeavouring its removal, ease the shoulders that bear it ? If your sins be so great, surely the Lord Jesus Christ, who is an almighty Saviour, and who delighteth in mercy, will not lose an opportunity of evidencing both his power and his pity on such a, miserable subject : for, if there cannot be so great a sinner as you are, this is the last season he can have in which to display them !' Ever since the fall of our first parents, all men invariably manifest a strong propensity to cleave to their own righteousness : to some- 70 THE KEFUGE. thing they have performed, or are to perform, in order to final happiness. When a man contemplates the turpitude of his nature, and the imperfection of his conduct, he must, as a moral agent, be conscious of numberless defects ; of being extremely culpable ; and, as he cannot but acknowledge, on reflection, that his pravity has been the result of his own choice, it is quite natural for him to look to future refor- mation for something that may counterbalance his guilt, and avert the punishment he has reason to expect. Without revelation, he has no other medium by which to obtain forgive- ness : and, if this revelation be neglected or despised, he will not see the absurdity of his conduct ; his deceptive hope will keep pace with his diligence ; and, if divine goodness do not interpose, never perceive his mistake till too late to prevent it. On this principle those Jews acted of whom it is said, ' They trusted in themselves that they were righteous, and despised others. They had a zeal for God, but not according to knojvledge: for they, being ignorant of THE REFUGE. ▼ 71 God's righteousness, and going about to esta- blish their own righteousness, have not sub- mitted themselves unto the righteousness of God.' But, before a man can cordially receive the salvation revealed in the gospel, every pretension to forgiveness, on the ground of human worthiness, must be entirely relin- quished. ' To talk of pardoning one that is innocent, or of forgiving a debt that never was contracted, is absurd in the extreme :' it is, therefore^ a part of the Holy Spirit's work to convince the sinner that in his flesh dwelleth no good thing; that his own righteousness is as filthy rags, and that, if he expect to be justified before God, all he has ever esteemed .gain, in reference to this grand affair, must be esteemed loss for Christ. ' Heaven,' says the very ingenious Spurstow, * stands like a little mark in a wide field, where there are a thousand ways to err from it, and but one to hit it. Yea, though God hath said that there is but one sacrifice by which we can be perfected ; but one blood by which we can be purified ; but one name by G 2 72 THE REFUGE,. which we can be saved ; yet how hardly arc the best drawn to trust perfectly to the grace revealed, and to look from themselves to Christ, as the author and finisher of their blessedness ? Seeing, therefore, Holy Father, that thou hast made the whole progress of salvation to be in Christ, and by Christ ; election to be in him j adoption to be in him ; justification to be in him ; sanctification to be in him ; glorifica- tion to be in him ; grant that, whatever others do, I may never choose the light of reason, but the sun of righteousness to guide my feet into the paths of life ; and that, both in life and in death, I may say as that bles- sed martyr did. None but Christ, none but Christ !' While the awakened sinner surveys him- fself, he can meet with nothing but discou- ragement. If he look within, he perceives that the heart in which he trusted, has turned him aside ; that it is deceitful above ail things, and desperately wicked, and the fruitful source of all the evils committed in his life. If he advert to actions in which there v/as ap- TKE REFUGE. 73 parently nothing to blame, but rather every thing to praise, he finds, on minute inspec- tion, enough to convince him that he imper- ceptibly sought his own honour, and not the honour that cometh from God only. He feels that he is inwardly defiled; he is convinced that all his duties have been shamefully defec- tive ; he discovers nothing on which he can safely depend for pardon and acceptance. Like the unclean spirit, when dispossessed of his peaceful residence, he turns this way and that ; seeking rest, but finding none : and the reason is obvious : he is looking for that in himself which is only to be found in Christ. Peace for a troubled conscience is not to be attained in this v.^ay ; nor will the trembling- sinner ever experience the inestimable bles- sing, till his attention be called from himself to the cross — till, as a perishing wretch, he look to him that said, when referring to his own death, ' If I be lifted up from the earth, I will draw all men unto me.' The inquiry of a soul, in this perplexed state, is — How the Judge of tlie world can, 74 THE REFUGE. consistently with the holiness of his nature, and the immutability of his truth in the threat- enings, justify a sinner who, during his whole life, has paid little or no regard to either ? Now, in the cross of Christ, this question is explicitly answered — the whole mystery is completely developed. ' He that commanded the light to shine out of darkness, shineth in the heart, to give the light of the knowledge of the glory of God in the face of Jesus Christ.' The eye of faith discovers how God can be just, and the justifier of him that be- lieveth. The just God' and the Saviour arc beheld with awful reverence and delightful astonishment ! Tears of gratitude stream from the eyes of the adoring penitent: he looks upon him whom his sins have pierced, and mourns, * Surely,' he exclaims with the prophet, ' he hath born our griefs, and carriedour sorrows — He was wounded for our transgressions ; he was bruised for our iniquities ; the chastisement of our peace was upon him ; and with his stripes we are healed. All we like sheep have gone astray ; we have turned every one to his own way ; and the Lord hath laid on him the ini- THE REFUGE. 73 ity of US all — God forbid that I should hence- forth glory, save in the cross of our Lord Jesus Christ — who loved me, and gave himself for me.' In the cross of Christ, the loving kindness of God to man appears with meridian lustre. By this despised means of human happiness, and this only, the divine perfections are glo- rified, and the chief of sinners saved. Not, be it remembered, by works of righteousness which we have done ; for there is nothing we ever have done, or ever shall do, that can me- rit an interest in the divine favour. Suppose a character, among the apostate sons of Adam, in whom resides all the moral excellency that ever dignified human nature since the fall ; and, on the other hand, one in whom con- centres all the moral evil committed since that fatal period ; and it will be found on exami- nation that, in point of justification before God, they stand on a perfect level. The accu- mulated virtue of the former, if pleaded as that which might render him acceptable to his Judge, would avail nothing ; nor would 76 THE RETUGE. the enormous guilt of the latter, simply consi- dered, be an obstacle to the bestowment of grace and of glory. Moral rectitude in all its forms, we ought, nevertheless, to admire, and studiously endea- vour to cultivate. A disregard of this, where iinal, renders eternal happiness impossible, and condemnation absolutely necessary. That virtu- ous actions are praiseworthy in the sight of men, and, in a comparative view, in the sight of God, is certain ; but that these actions, how- ever numerous, or however splendid, are of no use in the affair of justification is demonstrable : and it is this grand fact, and this only, that abolishes, in a religious view, all human dis- tinctions J that exalts the riches of sovereign grace ; opens a door of hope for the guilty ; and effectually secures all the glory of salvation to our adorable Immanuel. That Christ is the only author of salvation, must never be forgotten. It may be said, in reference to all he did as surety of the church, as well as to the complete conquest of his ene- THE REFUGE. ^f mies ; ' Of the people, there was none with him : there was none to help, none to uphold : therefore his own arm brought salvation.' The work of redemption was assigned to him in the everlasting covenant ; it was what he then voluntarily undertook to perform, and what, as mediator, he came to execute in the state of his humiliation on earth. By perfect conformity of heart and of life to the moral law ; by suffering on the cross the dreadful penalty annexed to transgression ; the stupen- dous undertaking was accomplished. That it was complete in all its parts we can have no doubt, because to this the divine Jesus bore unequivocal testimony when, in the agonies of death, he cried, ' It is finished \ and gave up the ghost.' As, therefore, he had no co- partner, no assistant in the work, we are not to imagine that he will give his glory to ano- ther. He that glorieth must glory in the Lord only. ' We are not saved, says an apostle, by works of righteousness which we have done, but according to Iiis mercy he saveth us, through the redemption that is in Jesus Christ : whom God hath set- forth to be 78 THE RETVGE. a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righteousness for the remission of sins. Where is boasting then ? It is excluded^ By what law ? of works ? Nay ; but by the law of faith. Therefore we conclude that a man is justified by faith without the deeds of the law.' The apostle, Paul, who made these asser- tions, and who laboured much in all his preach- ing and writings to establish the sovereign- ty of grace, is, in this affair, extremely tena- cious of the honour of his Master. ' Who, he asks, maketh thee to differ from another.^ and what hast thou that thou didst not re- ceive ? Now, if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory, as if thou hadst not received it ?' Sinners are not ^ called according to their works, but according to God's purpose and grace, given them in Christ Jesus before the world began.' Salvation is of grace ; and if by grace, then, he adds, ^ it is no more of works : otherwise grace is no more grace. But if it be of works, then it is no more of grace : otherwise work is no more work.' On this l^» imnortai THE REFUGE. TO important subject, however, I cannot now en- large : it shall, therefore, be resumed in my next. I am yours, &c. 80 THE RErUGE. LETTER II. What is all righteousness that men devise. What, but a sordid bargain for the skies? But Christ as soon will abdicate his own. As stoop from heaven to sell the proud a throne. COWPER. X HAT good works can have no place in the justification of a sinner before God, was asserted in my last: want of leisure, however, prevented me from attempting to vindicate that asser- tion. I shall now, therefore, in pursuance of my promise, transmit my thoughts on this high- ly interesting subject. Good works, performed by the apostate sons of Adam, have no intrinsick merit. The best performances of the most emi]Q,ent saint are imperfect. They fall vastly short, both in motive and in practice, of what the moral law, which is the rule of duty, invariably re- quires : and can therefore have no influence ^Bin the article of justification. Every man must see the absurdity of pleading the worth of partial and defective duties in order to answer the demands of a law that enjoins per- fect and perpetual obedience. Nay, there never was, in fact, any period or situation in which the works of the first parent of man- kind could deserve recompense. ' For, having received ail from God, he could display no excellence, nor communicate any favour, which was not derived from divine bounty. Far from increasing the glory or happiness of his Maker, he could only promote his own I felicity and dignity, by exerting his powers in the service of him who gave them.' Besides, if we hope to obtain compensation in a way of merit, our services must not be a ^K debt previously due to him from whom the compensation is expected. But this is not the case with angels, much less with rebellious man, respecting the insulted Sovereign of hea- ven. We owe him ten thousand talents, and I are absolutely insolvent: or, to use the lan- guage of scripture, We have nothing to pay. S2 " THE REFUGE. The law of God, which is holy, and just, and good ; which was adapted to promote our own happiness and his glory, we have violated in a thousand instances. Nor is this all : sin has not only introduced disorder and misery into the moral world, but it has so far debased human nature, as to render us incapable, with- out foreign aid, of yielding that obedience wiiich it is at all times, and in all circum- stances, our duty to perform. This incapa- city, however, which is purely moral, can by no means be pleaded in extenuation or excuse. Men ' love darkness rather than light, because their deeds are evil.' All obedience or diso- bedience is properly, or at least primarily, in no part but the will ; so that though other faculties of the soul in regeneration are sancti- fied, and thereby made conformable to the will of God, yet obedience and disobedience are formally acts of the will, and according to its qualities, a man is said to be obedient to God or disobedient. If therefore we have lost all inclination to obey the great Legislator of heaven and of earth, he has not lost his right to command universal and perpetual obcdi- , THE REFUGE. 83 ence. His law, which is the standard of per- fection, and the rule of duty to moral agents, cannot, on that account, dispense with partial observance : nay, could we henceforth comply with all its requirements, we should do no- thing more than our duty. Instead, there- fore, of attempting to palliate the guilt of remissness, we ought to cry with the trembling- jailor. What shall I do to be saved ? or in the more pertinent language of the publican, God be merciful to me, a sinner ! That good works cannot be profitable to God, nor serviceable to man, in the impor- tant affair of justification, is a truth that ex- tends to men of every description. The real christian, who is renewed in the spirit of his mind, and enabled to act on principles very different from men in a state of nature, can claim no exception ; na}^, it will be the lan- guage of his heart. My goodness, O Lord, extendeth not unto thee. Morality, in this case, can have nothing meritorious in it ; ' it being,' says a celebrated writer, ' but wisdom, pru- dence, or good economy, v/hich, like health, H 2 k J^4 THE REFUGE, beauty, or riches, are rather obligations con- ferred upon us by God, than merits in us towards him: for though we may be justly punished for injuring ourselves, we can claim no reward for self preservation ; as suicide de- serves punishment and infamy, but a man deserves no reward or honours for not being guilty of it.' ^ Can a man be profitable to God, as he who is wise may be profitable to himself? Is it any pleasure to the Almighty that thou art righte- ous ? or is it any gain to him that thou makest thy ways perfect ? If thou be righteous, what givest thou him, or what receiveth he of thine hands ? Thy wickedness may hurt a man as thou art, and thy righteousness may profit the son of man — Who hath first given to him, and it shall be recompensed unto him again ? For of him, and through him, and to him are all things ; to whom be glory for ever — What hast thou that thou didst not receive ? now if thou didst receive it, why dost thou glory, as if thou hadst not received it ?' Instead, therefore, of attempting to claim the blessedness of heaven THE REFUGE. 85 on the ground of personal worthiness, it would be acting more in character for a sinful wretch to cry, ' Behold, I am vile ; what shall I answer thee ? I will lay mine hand upon my mouth. Once have I spoken ; but I will not answer : yea, twice ; but I will proceed no further — Enter not into judgment with thy servant : for in thy sight shall no man living- be justified.' Another reason why good works cannot be meritorious, is the vast disparity between them and the salvation they are supposed to merit. ' A natural work can give no title to a super- natural reward.' There must be a just propor- tion between the work and the wages : if the wages exceed the work, they are so far gra- tuitous — favours to which we have no claim, and of course not merited. But can the best services of a creature, depraved beyond descrip- tion, be brought into comparison with the debt he owes to his Maker, or with that con- summate happiness which in its duration is eternal ? No ; it is impossible. ' The greatest human virtue,' says Dr. Johnson, ^bearsno pro- 86 THE REFUGE. portion to human vanity.' Nothing short of an obedience commensurate to the requirements of divine law, and to the threatenings of eternal justice, can afford the sinner a well grounded hope of that blessedness which it is the glory of God to bestow as a gift ; but which never was conferred on any as a debt, or as a recom- pense for diligence in dut3% Ascriptions of merit to man may be the lan- guage of mortals on earth ; but it is not the language of saints in heaven. Concerning that great multitude which stood before the throne, and before the lamb, clothed with white robes, and palms in their hands, not a word is said of their having deserved the honour and the hap- piness to which they were exalted ; but, on the contrar}^, that they themselves ' Cried with a loud voice, saying, Salvation to our God which sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb. And all the angels stood round about the throne, and about the elders and the four beasts, and fell before the throne on their faces, and worshipped God, Saying, Amen. Blessing, and glory, and wisdom, and thanks- THE REFUGE. * 87 giving, and honour, and power, and might, be unto our God, for ever and ever, Amen.' Not an individual of that innumerable com- pany is heard attributing his deliverance and his triumph to himself — to the possession of moral qualities, the performance of moral du- ties, nor yet to the patient endurance of great tribulation ; but the reason given by one of the elders, why they were before the throne of God, and serve him day and night in his tem- ple, is this — ' They have washed their robes, and made them white in the blood of the Lamb.' The unanimous voice of the church militant and the church triumphant is — ' Worthy is the Lamb that was slain, and has redeemed us to God by his blood, out of every kindred, and tongue, and people, and nation ; and has made us unto our God kings and priests — Blessing, and honour, and glory, and power, be unto him that sitteth upon the throne, and unto the Lamb for ever and ever.' I But while it is positively asserted that good works have nothing to do in the justification of a simier before God, it is maintained with 88 THE REFUGE. equal confidence, that there are other highly Important purposes for which they are indis- pensably necessary. The scriptures declare, that the elect of God are chosen in Christ Jesus before the foundation of the world — that when the time to manifest this infinite grace is come, they are called with a holy call- ing, not according to their works, but according to his own purpose, and grace — that they are his workmanship, created in Christ Jesus unto good works, which God hath before ordained that they should walk in them. That faith without works is dead, is an established maxim with the christian. If there be time and opportunity, every believer is taught, by the Holy Spirit, to * maintain good works for necessary uses — to let his light so shine before men, that they may see his good works, and glorify his Father which is in hea- ven.' In this case, faith and holiness are inse- parable : and it was a conviction of the impor- tance of this truth that induced the apostle, James to ask, when writing to the Jewish converts, Was not Abraham our father justi- I THE REFUGE. 89 fied by works when he had offered Isaac his son upon the altar ? He knew there was a con- nexion between the faith of which he then spoke and moral duties : that it would be as congruous to expect grapes of thorns, or figs of thistles, as to suppose faith in the heart un- productive of real holiness in the life. It is as ^ impossible for the sun to be in his meri- dian sphere, and not to dissipate darkness, or diffuse light, as for faith to exist in the soul and not exalt the temper and meliorate the conduct.' Faith, as a divine principle in the soul, purifies the heart ; and is, in fact, the only source of good works. The tree must be made good before the fruit can be good. ' But without faith it is impossible to please God :' and hence we learn that Abraham's faith was prior to that striking proof of filial obedience hich he is said to be justified ; and, there- Sfe, neither the cause nor the condition of his justification. In examining another part of the same chap- we find the apostle asserts, when speak- iqg of the extent and spirituality of the moral 90 THE REFUGE. law, * That whosoever shall keep the whole law, and yet offend in one point, is guilty of all.' Now as Abraham had, in many instan- ces, violated this divine statute ; his works could not so justify him, as to render him guiltless and acceptable in the sight of God. Throughout the whole of the apostle's reason- ing there is a beautiful connexion and con- sistency. For, by reciting the affecting story of Abraham and his beloved Isaac, he has shown, that by the venerable patriarch's obe- dience to the command of God, was manifested both the genuineness and the strength of his faith. It is an article of the christian's faith, and from which he ought never to depart, that God, for the display of his own almighty pow- er, sovereignty, and grace, does at the last hour, and perhaps in the latest moments, some- times snatch sinners from the very jaws of hell, without any consideration as to moral worth, of what they have been, or what they then are. For the glory of infinite mercy, it may proba- bly be said of nvimbers at the last day as was THE REFUGE. 91 said in reference to the ancient Jewish high priest — ' Is not this a brand plucked out of the fire ?' Or at least this will be said of him whom the compassionate Saviour took from the cross to the crown — who was introduced in triumph to bear witness in heaven, as he had done upon earth, that salvation is not of works, but of grace ! What advantage, it may be asked, do those gain over their opponents, who zealously main- tain that good works are essential to salvation? For whatever is essential to the completion of any purpose cannot be relinquished. On this hypothesis, the salvation of the expiring thief w^as absolutely impossible. He had neither time nor opportunity to perform good works. Impossible also must it be to thousands, per- haps to millions, who have died, or may die, if not in similar situations, yet so circum- stanced as to have no space for amendment : and equally impossible to infants, more than half of whom die before they are capable of moral action. This incapacity may probably be urged to prove, that, in reference to them I 92 THE REFUGE. the cases are dissimilar ; and that their not having committed actual sin, is a sufficient warrant to believe that they are not obnoxious to the divine displeasure. But this 'conclusion is not just. The scriptures positively declare, that we are by nature the children of wrath — that we are shapen in iniquity, and conceived in sin ; the offspring of a degenerate head, in whom we sinned, and from whom we derive pollution and guilt : and unless these facts be admitted, it is impossible to reconcile the con- duct of Providence with the oracles of truth ; because death, which is the wages of sin, passes upon infants, though they have not sinned after the similitude of Adam's trans- gression. But this would not be the case — it would be incompatible with divine goodness and the tlivine government, were they not fe- derally connected with him, involved in his guilt, and the subjects of moral evil. ^ To deny the imputation of that offence, and yet grant, as it must be, that we suffer in conse- quence of it, necessarily supposes that we are condemned and punished, considered as inno- cent ; than which nothing can be more unjust.' THE REFUGE. 93 But, were it admitted that there never ex- Usted any federal relation between Adam and I his posterity, the difficulty with which the subject is supposed to be embarrassed would not be lessened. It is demonstrable, as far as cause and effect can be, that children are na- turally depraved — ^that they are, without ex- ception, agitated by sinful passions, long before the mind can possibly be influenced by exam- ple. Nov/, as these passions must arise from a corrupt principle latent in the heart, it cannot reasonably be denied, that defiled nature in an infant is, in its degree, as inconsistent with the purity and felicity of heaven, as that which ; is peculiar to those who have committed actual transgressions; and that the comparatively small depravity of the one will as effectually bar the way to blessedness, as the enormous load of the other. But, heaven and glory are not to be obtain-^ ed by any of the sons of Adam, on such con- ditions. They possess no moral qualities that merit the divine favour, nor that fit them to enjoy it. The gift of God is eternal life 94f THE REJUGE. through Jesus Christ. Grace reigns — and is, I have no doubt, glorified in the salvation of infants : and it will reign, and will be glori- fied in all that are finally saved. He, there- fore, who shall think, that because he has lived to augment his debt, he has thereby increased his capacity for payment, will find himself at last — more than insolvent! I am, said Jesus, the w^ay, and the truth, and the life : no man Cometh unto the Father, but by me : and he that shall presumptuously attempt to climb to heaven in any other way, will be treated as a thief and a robber. Were justification by works, either in whole or in part, what encouragement could I ad- minister to you, whose distress originates in a conviction of having none to plead as a ground of forgiveness ? What could he say that is called to the bed of a wretched sinner, who, in the prospect of death, is alarmed with a consciousness of enormous guilt — of having lived without God in the world, and of being shortly to appear before him as his Judge ? or what to the condemned criminal who, the next I THE REFUGE. 95 hoar, is to pay his forfeited life to the laws of his country, as the only possible expiation of his crimes against society ? — He must leave them both a prey to dejection and sorrow : he could not, consistently with his own princi- ples, say any thing either to remove the pangs of guilt, or to assuage the horrours of despair. The hopeless delinquents might each, in their turn, adopt the expostulatory language of Job. ' How hast thou helped him that is without power ? how savest thou the arm that hath no strength ? how hast thou counselled him that hath no v/isdom ? How forcible are right words ! but thou art a miserable comforter — ' a physician of no value.' But while it is maintained that salvation is entirely of grace — that good works have no- thing to do in the justification of a sinner before God — that dying infants are redeemed from sin and all its consequences by the blood of Christ ; and that it is possible for the most notorious offender to be saved, even at the last lOur ; it is, at the same time, affirmed with :qual confidence," ^ That God never intended I 2 96 THE llEFUGE. mercy as a sanctuary to protect sin' — That this doctrine gives to the sinner, continuing in sin, no reason to expect forgiveness : nay, the want of an habitual disposition to keep the divine commands, is unequivocal proof of his being in a state of spiritual death, and of his having no evidence that he shall ever experience the blessing of pardon. Divine grace is a ' vital, active, influential principle, operating on the heart, restraining the desires, affecting the general conduct, and as much regulating our commerce with the world, our business, plea- sures, and enjoyments, our conversations, de- signs, and actions, as our behaviour in publick worship, or even in private devotion.' There are some, indeed, who * retire from the world, not merely to bask in ease or gra- tify curiosity ; but that being disengaged from common cares, they may employ more time in the duties of religion : that they may regulate their actions with stricter vigilance, and purify their thoughts by more frequent meditation, To men thus elevated above the mists of mortality, I am far from presuming myself THE REFUGE. 9?" qualified to give directions. On him that ap- pears to pass through things temporary, with no other care than not to lose finally the things eternal, I look with such veneration as inclines me to approve his conduct on the whole, without a minute examination of its parts -j yet I could never forbear to wish, that while vice is every day multiplying seduce- ments, and stalking forth with more hardened eifrontery, virtue would not withdraw the in- fluence of her presence, or forbear to assert her natural dignity, by open and undaunted perseverance in the right. Piety practised in solitude, like the flower that blooms in the desert, may give its fragrance to the winds of heaven, and delight those unbodied spirits that surv^ey the works of God and the actions of men ; but it bestows no assistance upon earthly beings, and however free from taints of impurity, yet wants the sacred splendour of beneficence.' He that is commanded to let his light so I shine before men, that they may see his good v/orks, and glorify his Father which is in hea- 98 THE REFUGE. ven, cannot descend from the conspicuous situation in which he is placed, without leaving his post, and incurring the charge of cowardice, if not of desertion. The wicked, indeed, flee when no man pursueth ; but the righteous are bold as a lion. They are to be steadfast, unmoveable, always abounding in the work of the Lord : and the man who is born of God, and mercifully reserved to bear testimony in the world to the riches of sove- reign grace, will demonstrate, by his conduct, that sanctity of heart and of life is inseparably connected. ' They that are Christ's have cru- cified the fiesh with the affections and lusts. — They reckon themselves to be dead indeed unto sin, but alive unto God through Jesus Christ. The heavenly seed, in this case, cannot but be productive of fruit. There are no barren trees in God's vineyard ; or at least, none of his planting : and even in those persons who are naturally incapable, or who have no time al- lotted for demonstrating the salutary effects of divine culture, the same immortal principle is implanted ; the image of Christ is stamped on the soul ; and though the impress be not per- THE REFUGE. 99 ceptible to human view, it will, nevertheless, l^hereafter appear with his likeness. To be delivered from the condemnation and Idominion of sin in the present life ; to rejoice |in the glorious liberty of the gospel, and to have a conscience void of offence towards God and towards man, are privileges that the heirs of glory ardently desire to enjoy, and which they consider as the summit of earthly bles- sedness. How shall we, that are dead to sin, live any longer therein ? ' He that hath tasted the bitterness of sin, will fear to commit it ; and he that hath felt the sweetness of mercy, will fear to offend it !' As the saints are made, through grace, heirs according to the hope of eternal life, they zea- lously contend, and constantly declare, that those who have believed in God, should be careful to maintain good works. But then that love of holiness, and this zeal for the honour of God, arise, not from an expectation of being justified, either in whole or in part, by their personal conformity to the moral law ; loo THE REFUGE. but from a heartfelt conviction that these things are in themselves lovely, as well as good and profitable to men. The believer, like the great apostle of the gentiles, 'counts all things but loss for the excellency of the knowledge of Christ Jesus ; for whom he can cheerfully suffer the loss of all things, and reckons them but dung, that he may win Christ, and be found in him, not having his own righteousness, which is of the law, but that which is through the faith of Christ, the righteousness which is of God by faith.' Like his divine Master, he finds it his meat and his drink to do the will of his hea- venly Father. But were he to do all that is commanded, or that inclination or gratitude might prompt him to perform ; yet would he say, I am an unprofitable servant — I have done that only which it was my duty to do. He feels sin to be his heaviest burden, and holiness his principal delight. He presses towards the mark, for the prize of the high calling of God in Christ Jesus : anxious that he may know him, and the power of his resurrection, and THE REFUGE. 101 the fellowship of his sufferings, and be made conformable unto his death. He knows that in his flesh dwelleth no good thing ; for to will is present with him ; but how to perform that which is good he finds not. He feels a per- petual conflict, between the flesh and the spirit, that mars every duty ; which makes him dissa- tisfied with himself in every attainment ; and this dissatisfaction and that conflict will conti- nue till he be devested of the body of sin and death. But when mortality is swallowed up of life, then shall he awake in the likeness of him to whose image it will be his glory and his happiness to be eternally conformed. The followers of him, who went about doing- good, are taught to distinguish between good works, which are the fruit of divine grace im- parted to the heart, and that expiation by which forgiveness is obtained at the hand of God. In all they do, they act, or ought to act, from a principle of love. They know that their best services constitute no part ot their sal- vation : yet are they assiduous in the perform- j^ance of every branch of duty, desirous that 102 THF REFUGE. they may be ' blameless and harmless, the sons of God, without rebuke, in the midst of a crooked and perverse generation, among whom they shine as lights in the world.' The practice of virtue stands as a discriminating mark of their being disciples of him who was holy, harmless, undefiled, and separate from sinners. But in this they have learned not to glory. They constantly declare that their endeavours to honour the government and grace of God, arise not from depraved nature, but from the law of the spirit of life in Christ Jesus, which hath made them free from the law of sin and death ; and who, as their head, worketh in them both to will and to do. It is a sense of continual dependence on his gracious influence that keeps alive the sincerest gratitude ; that lays them in the dust ; which teaches them to glory in the Lord their strength; in whose name it is their privilege constantly to rejoice, and in whose righteousness alone they shall be everlastingly exalted. If the disciples of Jesus see others running in the broad way that leadedi to destruction, THE REFUGE. 103 tEeir sorrow is excited : they attribute no me- rit to themselves ; but, on the contrary, adore the restraining and the sanctifying hand that has made the diiFerence — which has not permit- ted them to wallow in the mire of sin, nor to run into the same excess of riot. Sin is that which the new man created in Christ Jesus abhors. The follo^vers of the despised Gali- lean are, like their divine Master, nevertheless, stigmatized as friendly to sin. But it is an indubitable fact, that he who is bori? from above, delights in the law of God after the inward man. The uniform language of the redeemed on earth is, ' Blessed be t^^ God and Father of our Lord Jesus '^^'^^ist, who hath chosen us in him befor'^^ ^^^ foundation of the^world, that we '.aould be holy and without blame before him in love.' Should you ask, Are all who profess the name of Christ thus minded ? there are who will tell you, ' even weeping'—that many, very many, are otherwise minded— that they mind earthly things— turn the grace of God into las- civiousness— trample on the blood of the cove 104 THE REFUGE. nant — glory in their shame, and are altogether enemies to the cross of Christ. They name the name of Christ, but depart not from iniquity : they cause the doctrine of God to be blasphemed, and his ways to be evil spoken of; so that those that are without, become presumptuous, and are not afraid to speak evil of the things which they understand not. But, notwithstanding this repugnancy of prin- ciple to practice, surely it will be acknowledged that the abuse of a doctrine is no proof of its being false. What truth of revelation, what precept in morals, what ai^ what science has not been perverted by either th^ ignorance or the obstinacy of some of its advocates -i There have always been ^ vain talkers and deceive*, who have professed to know God, but have in works denied him ;' but, was it ever concluded from the inconsistency of such characters, that atheism was rational ! The doctrine of salvation by grace has gene- rally been treated with contempt by men of the ^vorld; and has, indeed, sometimes been abused THE REFUGE. 105 by those from whom better things might have been expected. But the notoriously wicked, who seem as if studious to evince their having no desire of maintaining good works, are fre- quently the most clamorous against it. If we are not to be saved by v/orks, w^e may, it is said, live as w^e list : v/e may sin that grace may abound. ^ Adieu ! Viwosa cries, ere yet he sips The purple bumper trembling at his lips ; Adieu to all morality I if grace Make works a vain ingredient in the case." But the conclusion is false : it is a vile slan- der on the conduct and character of God. As if he, in whose sight the heavens are not pure, should redeem the vessels of his mercy from all iniquity, in order that they might continue to commit it ; or were to purify unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works, with a view to their wallowing at pleasure in defile- ment ! ^ Loudly have opponents exclaimed, that the doctrines of grace enervate the obligatio lis of 106 THE REFUGE. morality, by rejecting the claims of human merit, by exhibiting a full and perfect atone- ment for all crimes, and by denying that good works are essential to salvation. But though a christian will not admit that man can merit any thing from his Creator, he is far from deny- ing that there are different degrees of worth and excellence in human characters. Nor does the righteousness of a Saviour imply any dis- pensation from the eternal and immutable obli- gations to virtue, but rather enhances their force, by shewing the dreadful effects of their violation, and by rendering the infinite love and grace of their divine Author more conspi- cuous.' It may be said, without being charge- ble with bigotry or presumption, that he who shall venture to abuse the mercy of God, be- cause it IS great ; or the grace of God, because it is free , never felt his utter unworthiness of either ; has never tasted that the Lord is gra- cious: he is in a state of spiritual death ; the guilt of sin is upon him ; and he may rest assured, that unless he so feel its pressure as to groan for deliverance — as to hate the sin, as THE REFUGE. 107 well as the punishment connected with it; except he experience a sincere love of holiness, and of entire conformity to the moral image of Christ, he has no ground to hope that he shall ever awake with his likeness. When we seriously reflect on the present state of man as a moral agent, and as account- able for his conduct to God, the governour of the world, it is, in one view, astonishing that an individual should be found unfriendly to the doctrine of salvation by grace. But, alas ! so blind and prejudiced by nature is the human mind, that this way of escape from deserved ruin, though exactly suited to his wretched condition, and the only means of deliverance, is nevertheless rejected and despised. Christ becomes a stone of stumbling, and a rock of ojfFence ; and the presumptuous sinner, going about to establish a righteousness of his own, will not submit to be justified by that righte- ousness which divine mercy hath graciously provided. To search into the cause of this melancholy fact, we must advert to the primeval state of our first progenitors : but I have alreadv K 2 108 THE REFUGE, trespassed too long on your patience : the sub- ject shall, therefore, be resumed in my next, I am, &c- THE REFUGE. 109 LETTER III. Of man's first disobedience, and the fruit Of that forbidden tree, whose mortal taste Brought death into the world, and all our woe. With loss of Eden, till one greater Man Restore us, and regain the blissful. seat. Sing heavenly Muse ' MILTON. \J UR first progenitors, when recent from the hand of Omipotence, were perfect models of human excellence, possessed a nature untainted by sin, and capacitated to abide in the perpetual enjoyment of paradise. But, alas : the trial of their filial obedience soon terminated in the most heinous act of rebellion. Their listening to the vile insinuations of Satan, opened a door for the entrance of sin, the existence of which was immediately evidenced by actual trans- gression. Thus were their understandings darkened, their affections depraved, and the condition on which felicity was promised, completely violated. The loss of original recti- 110 THE REFUGE, tude rendered all their future services imper- fect ; and, of course, inadequate to secure the happiness formerly annexed to obedience". Per- feet obedience and perfect happiness were inse- parably connected. But this offence was not attended merelv with a privation of present happiness : it was a forfeiture of all claim to future blessedness. Our first parents stood as condemned criminals at the bar of their beneficent Creator ; and in consequence of their detestable ingratitude, became obnoxious to the punishment threat- ened in case of disobedience to the divine precept. But the evil did not terminate with them. Adam stood as the federal head of the numerous posterity that should spring from his loins : they were considered as one with him, as interested in his happiness. The forfeiture, therefore, of God's favour, which was his pro- per life, extended itself to all his natural de- scendants. They were involved in his guilt, and subject to the same condemnation. ' The violation of that original covenant not only polluted and disarranged the constituent prin- THE REFUGE. Ill ciples of his nature, but impressed the same hereditary stains on all his descendants, and subjected the whole progeny to those penalties which had been incurred by its first propaga- tor.' Thus, Adam, having by transgression, virtu- ally renounced his allegiance to the best of sovereigns, became the vassal of that treache- rous adversary who, by the power of tempta- tion, had stripped him of all his pristine glory and happiness. He forsook the standard of his beneficent Creator, and enlisted under the banner of Satan. After his example all his posterity naturally copy. They cheerfully obey the crafty dictates of the same tyrannical sove- reign. It is said, without exception, ' They are all gone aside, they are altogether become fil- thy : there is none that doeth good, no not one.' They are led captive by ' the prince of the power of the air, the spirit that now worketh in the children of disobedience,' All the pow- ers and faculties of the soul, and all the mem- bers of the body, are under his control, and devoted to his service. ' God is not in all their 112 THE REFUGE. thoughts — nay, the carnal mind is enmity against God : for it is not subject to the law of God, neither indeed can be.' It is allowed, indeed, that there is a vast disparity, as to moral turpitude, between the actions of individuals. Some men, in a compa- rative view, may be properly denominated vir- tuous, and others completely vicious : and the number of those is not small, ' who regulate their lives, not by the standard of religion, but by the measure of other men's virtue : who lull their own remorse with the remembrance of crimes more atrocious than their own, and seem to believe that they are not bad while another can be found worse.' Very different, however, were the conclusions of the learned and excellent Boerhaave, who relates, that he never saw a criminal dragged to execution without asking himself, ' Who knows whether this man is not less culpable than I ?' But the concession I have made does not in the least militate against the doctrine of universal and equal depravity : because every perceptible gradation of excellence arises, I presume, not I •■ .^^ ^Kfrom one man being less corinipt than another, ^^but from the interposition of God, operating by natural causes, with a view to subserve his own glory in the government of a world entire- ly under the dominion of sin. Every christian may with propriety say, If I have not, like David, committed murder and adultery ; nor with Peter, denied the Lord that bought me, it is not because my nature is less depraved, but because I have been either kept out of the way of temptation, or preserved from falling by it» The interposition of God in restraining the evil propensities of human nature is strikingly exemplified in the character of Hazael. After Elisha, the prophet, had answered the inquiry of Benhadad the king of Syria, he fixed his countenance stedfastly on the messenger, and wept. Then Hazael said, Why weepeth my Lord ? And he answered. Because I know the ^^'^ that thou wilt do unto the children of Israel ; 4-\^q\y strong holds wilt thou set on fire, and their yc^^^g men wilt thou slay with the sword, and wilt Jash their children ; and rip 114 THE REFUGE. up their women with child. And Hazael said. But what, is thy servant a dog, that he should do this great thing? And Elisha answered. The Lord hath shewed me that thou shalt be king- over Syria. When Hazael heard the predictions of the prophet, he was, I have no doubt, struck with horrour. He never imagined that he could be capable of perpetrating such outrageous acts of barbarity. But the sequel demonstrates, that the seeds of all these atrocities were latent in his nature. The Almighty withdrew the re- straints by which his depravity was bounded. The hour of trial speedily occurred — the next day he murdered the king his master, and reigned in his stead, and afterward, fulfilled all that Elisha had predicted. It was said by one, well acquainted with hu- man nature, Let him that thinketh he standeth take heed lest he fall. The salutary ca-^^^^ is the language of wisdom and be^^-^^^^^^^' The best of men, when left to th'^"^selves, have given awful proof of the^- incompetency to THE REFUGE. 115 withstand temptation. Witness the case of Hezekiah, whom God left to try him, that he might know the corruption of his heart : and it may repress the vanity of selfconfidence to recollect, that an apostle was, as Dean Young expresses it, pious in the house, courageous in the garden, and, in the hall, both a coward and a trait^^r. That the allwise Governour of the universe is pleased, for purposes of his own glory, to restrain the passions of men, is clear from the case of Abimelcch respecting Abraham ; and also from these words of the psalmist ; ' Surely the wrath of man shall praise thee : the re- mainder of wrath shalt thou restrain :' and, perhaps, both these clauses, and also the prin- ciple on which I reason, were never more aw- fully, nor more clearly exemplified than in the character and conduct of Pharaoh king of Egypt. Man is not only dreadfully deprkved, but is K said to be without strength — to have no under- Istanding — He receiveth not the things of the 116 THE REFUGE. Spirit of God ; for they are foolishness unto him : neither can he know them, because they are spiritually discerned. ' Nor is it strange that the natural man should not discern the things of the Spirit ^ for, in all other cases, a simple perception can only be excited by its proper object. The ideas of sound and colour, of proportion and symmetry, of beauty and harmony, are never found in the mind, till the objects, by which these pleasing sensations or emotions are inspired, have been presented to our observation. How then shall we rightly apprehend the nature and effects of communi- cated grace, before they are felt ? or how can we explain to others sensations for which language has no words, and to which the persons whom we would enlighten have no feeling analogous in their own minds ^ The language of the heart of a natural man to God is. Depart from me ; for I desire not the knowledge of thy ways. I say the lan- guage of the heart ; because the existence of this diabolical aversion is by multitudes pe- THE REI'UGE. 117 remptorlly denied. But every act of sin is rebellion against the authority of God in his law ; a contumacious disregard of the sanc- tions by which it is enforced ; and while men indulge themselves in criminal pursuits, in vain do they disown the being of a disposition hostile to the divine character. There have always been men that have professed to know God, but who have in works denied him : and, while this ignorance and aversion continue, the sinner will persevere in the paths of ini- quit}" and of death, suspecting neither danger nor deception. ' Though he walk in the ima- ginations of his heart, to add drunkenness to thirst, yet doth he bless himself in his heart, saying, I shall haye peace.' Selfiove flatters him with undoubted assurance of mercy. Ima- gination pictures a God all benignity and love. No regard is paid to his truth and his holiness as rector of the w^orld ; nor is it remembered that it is in the nature of things impossible divine justice should, without satisfaction, remit punishment where transgressions are committed. 118 THE HEFUGE. If the deluded sinner become at all serious, and the thought of eternity obtrude on his reflection, and disturb his quiet ; he purposes amendment of life, as the most likely means of making God propitious. ' Remorse begets reform. His master lust Falls first before his resolute rebuke, And seems dethron'd and vanquished* — This alteration of conduct, joined to the mercy of God, will, he thinks, completely save him, though it be at the last hour. If, how- ever, conscience do her work faithfully, he is exceedingly alarmed : he begins to proportion his diligence to his danger, ' and purposes,' as Hawkesworth expresses it, ^ more uniform vir- tue and more ardent devotion, in order to secure himself from the worm that never dies, and the fire that is not quenched ;' but until convinced by the Holy Spirit that 'all his righteousness is as filthy rags,' he is never brought, even at the last extremity, to reject his own supposed moral worth. Such are the views, and such the principles, on which the natural man reasons, v/hen guilt THE REJUGE. 119 arrests the conscience, and the salvation of his soul becomes a matter of serious inquiry. The tear of sorrow is to purchase oblivion for the past, and future reformation to merit the felicity of heaven. He never considers that the imperfection of his duties renders eternal blessedness in this way unattainable. But when the Spirit of God strips him of all his imaginary excellence, and shews him that the divine law is spiritual ; that it requireth per- fect purity of heart as well as of conduct, he then sees that he is indeed 'wretched, and miserable, and poor, and blind, and naked.' He cries, in the anguish of his soul, What! will nothing that I can do entitle me to happiness ? If so, ' How then can man be justified with God ? or how can he be clean that is born of a woman ?' Such is the inquiry of an awakened soul : and such, Lavinia, I know is the language of your heart. While, therefore, I am endea- pring to answer the inexpressibly important question, pray 'that the God of our Lord Jesus Christ, the Father of glory, may give unto L 2 and I l^^your 120 • THE REFUGE. you the spirit of wisdom and revelation in the knowledge of him.' In attempting this, we must return to that once happy paradise, t\'here our first parents forfeited their title to present and to future happiness. Here, while lamenting over their apostasy from God, we discover the interpo- sing hand of divine mercy extended to admi- nister relief — to point the way to ' a paradise,' as Witsius expresses it, ' far preferable to the earthly, and to a felicity more stable than that from which Adam fell. Here a new hope shines upon ruined mortals, which ought to be the more acceptable, the more unexpected it comes. Here conditions are prescribed, to which eternal salvation is annexed ; condi- tions, not to be performed again by us, which might throw the mind into despondency ; but by him that would not part with his life be- fore he had truly said — It is finished.' No sooner is the rebellion of our apostate ancestors acknowledged, than a Saviour is graciously promised — ' The seed of the woman shall bruise the serpent's head.' I T HE REFUGE. 121 The promulgation of this act of grace was the effect of everlasting love : and also a decla- ration of the future incarnation of the Son of God 5 which incarnation was, in the first ages of the church, prefigured by various types and shadows, ' but is now made manifest by the appearing of our Saviour Jesus Christ, who hath abolished death, and hath brought life and immortality to light through the gos- pel. In the eternal covenant of grace, all things were settled and provided for the re- demption of man. ' God so loved the world, that he gave his only begotten Son, that who- soever believeth in him should not perish, but have everlasting life.' The divine Redeemer foresaw the wretchedness and the ruin to which the members of his mystical body would be exposed, in consequence of sin ; and in order to rescue them from this ruin and that wretchedness, he voluntarily sanctified himself — or in other words — ' gave himself an offering and a sacrifice to God, for a svveet smelling savour.' He most cheerfully engaged as a substitute for the guilty, and undertook to redeem from death and all its consequences, 122 THE REFUGE, the many sons he was appointed to bring to glorj'. In a compact so characteristick of the Father of mercies, it appears, from scriptural repre- sentation, to have been stipulated, that the Son of his bosom should take the nature of man into union with his divine person ; ' that he should, in that nature, bear the sins of many — be numbered with transgressors — make his soul an offering for sin — finish transgression, make an end of sins — make reconciliation for miquity, and bring in everlasting righteous- ness :' and, as a reward fo^ the work he was to perform as Mediator, his eternal Father promised, * that he should see his seed ; should prolong his days ; should see of the travail of his soul and be satisfied ; and that the pleasure of the Lord should prosper in his hands.' In consequence of his own engage- ment and of this promise, the compassionate Savioiu' saith, ' Lo, I come : in the volume of the book it is written of me, I delight to do thy will, O my God : yea, thy law is within my heart.' THE REFUGE. 125 To accomplish the astonishing work of re- demption, the Son of God must become incar- nate ; assume the nature that had sinned, and in that nature make complete reparation to the law which his people had grossly violated : for, without reparation, no sinner covdd be saved. As a transgressor, he must inevitably have perished ; or the divine law have relin- quished its claim on him as a debtor ; which, in the very nature of the case, was impossible. No law, human or divine, founded injustice, and given as a rule of moral conduct, can dispense with a breach of its commands. Were a desperate assassin to plunge a dagger into the bosom of his most inveterate enemy, the law of his country would demand his life, as an atonement for the crime : it could not Bio otherwise. It is allowed, indeed, that the nurderous villain might escape the penalty of leath, by the intervention of a pardon ; but or this pardon he would not be indebted to the benignity of the law, but to the unjust in- terposition of his prince. The law would remain invariably the same : it must ever view him as a notorious transgressor; and unless its require- 124 THE REFUGE. ments be granted, or its violated honours am- ply restored, oppose all his efforts to obtain liberty or to preserve life. Now thus it stands with sinful man, re- specting the great Governour of heaven and of earth. The divine law, which was given as a rule of conduct, has been broken in a thou- sAid instances ; and its language to the candi- date for eternal happiness, on the ground of human worthiness is. Pay me that thou owest! — ' Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things written in the book of the law to do them.' This demand is founded in equity, and can neither be evaded nor complied with by tlie culprit : he lies under an arrest of jus- tice ; and unless the demands of the claimant be answered by the sinner, or his substitute, he must remain perpetually a debtor, and feel the weight of its sentence forever. ' Without an adequate atonement,' says the ingenious Black- lock, ' no sinner can possibly escape the hands, or elude the awards of justice. But such a compensation can by no means be given, if the delinquent's capacities of suffering be li- THE REFUGE. 125 mited, or his station and character of no higher importance than those of his brethren ; for the malignity of moral evil is too diffuse and per- manent to be cured by any exemplary punish- ment, whose duration and extent are circum- scribed. Even penitence itself cannot obliterate the evils which it deplores. Transgressions already past, and recorded in the books of hea- ven, are not to be reversed by resolutions of future reformation. The purest virtue of which human nature is capable, extends not to the sanctity of those laws which are prescribed for its obedience. Our best actions demand the exertions of mercy and forgiveness : how then can we atone for them that are bad ?' I Let it, therefore, be remembered, that on the ground of personal desert, no sinner can be saved. This is absolutely impossible : and the reason is obvious. He has violated the divine precept, and no future conduct, how- ever exemplary and exact, can atone for crimes previously committed. ^ The punish- gment of vice,^ says Mr. Jenyns, ' is a debt due to justice, which cannot be remitted without J2G THE REFUGE. compensation : repentance can be no compen- sation : it may change a man's dispositions, and prevent his offending for the future ; but can lay no claim to pardon for what is past. If any one, by profligacy and extravagance, con- tract a debt, repentance may make him wiser, and hinder him from running into further distresses ; but can never pay off .'his old bonds ; for which he must be ever ac- countable, unless they are discharged by him- self, or some other in his stead.' As, therefore, a continuance of happiness was conditionally- annexed to perfect and perpetual obedience only ; that happiness cannot be enjoyed with- out entire conformity to the conditions on which it was promised. The scriptures posi- tively assert, ' that the w^hole world is become guilty before God — that, by the deeds of the law, there shall no flesh be justified in his sight : for, by the law is the knowledge of sin. If, therefore, righteousness come by the law, then Christ is dead in vain!' But to make this matter, if possible, more pUun. Let it be considered that man either is. iHE REFUGE. 127 or is not dependent on God. If dependent, ^^ which is the fact, for independence is peculiar ■| to Jehovah, he must be a subject of moral ^B government ; for no reasonable creature can ^^B exist without being subject to some law ex- pressed or implied ; nor can there be a law without a penal sanction. This is absolutely impossible : because the law that requires supreme love to any object as a duty must, as * it cannot be framed on principles of compas- sion to guilt,' necessarily condemn hatred or opposition to it as a crime. If, therefore, it was right, in the first instance, that man should love his Creator, and conform to the precepts given as the standard of obedience, it must be right to inflict the penalty annexed to transgression. If, then, it be allowed that man is account- able to the Almighty for his conduct ; that the rule of duty is founded in righteousness; and that he has violated this rule ; it is, I think, demonstrable that, if salvation by Jesus Christ be rejected, he must suffer the penalty of the htw — or, in other words, he must inevitably M 128 THE R.EFUGL. perish. This conclusion appears to me indis- putable. The moral law, which is a transcript of the divine purity, is, we are told by one well ac- quainted with its perfection and extent, sum- marily comprehended in love to God and love to man. It enjoins nothing but what is abso- lutely good in itself — what is adapted as much for the creature's happiness, as for the glory of the beneficent Creator : nor does it prohibit any thing but what is positively evil — what is naturally ruinous to the soul and body, as well as derogatory to the supreme Governour of • heaven and of earth. Now, in attending to this incomparable law, there is no fear of excess. ' In the love of God,' says one, ' there can be no possibility of exceeding, while there is no limitation in the command : nor are we in danger of loving our neighbour better than ourselves ; and let us remember that we do not go beyond, but fall short of our duty, while we love him less.' I THE HEFUGE. t"2*-3 The iioly and blessed God will not, nay, he cannot absolve a rational creature from obliga- tion to the precepts of the moral law: for this would be a practical declaration, that aversion from himself, and hatred of our neighbour, are no crimes. It is therefore a capital mistake to imagine that the righteous Legislator of the universe may, or may not, punish sin. Punishment is, in this case, not an act of sovereignty, but necessarily results from the supreme perfection of God. Sin is the abominable thing that his soul hateth : it cannot exist but in opposition to the purity of his nature and the rectitude of his government. While, therefore, it is suffered to remain in his dominions, it must be the object of his abhorrence ; and, vfhat, as Ruler of the world, he cannot but punish either in the person of the sinner, or in his substitute. Were a con- sidet^ation of this aw^ful fact suffered to impress the mind as it ought, we should see our situa- tion to be dreadfully calamitous — that in our- selves we are utterly undone. The necessity of a Saviour would be at once apparent : and instead of attempting to extenuate the guilt of 130 THE REFUGE. Sin, or of cavilling against the infliction of punish- ment for it, we should adore the wisdom and the grace that devised and promulgated the means by which it is forgiven. It must be obvious to him who shall duly consider the perfection of the divine nature, and the rectitude of the divine government, that the law under which our first parents were, both as a covenant and as a rule of duty, must be perfectly fulfilled, previous to the bestow- ment of heavenly blessedness on their apostate descendants : for without such fulfilment, this blessedness never could, consistently with the rights of holiness and of justice, be enjoyed. The law could never remit its claim to universal obedience, nor, as such, suffer the offender to escape with impunity. It is, however, proper to remark, that mere obedience, Were it absolutely perfect,- could not, circumstanced as we now are, be viewed as an adequate reparation for the insult and injury done to the divine government. The penalty connected with disobedience must also THE REFUGE. 131 be endured ; and both in the nature by which it was first dishonoured : because angelick obe- dience to the same commands, would not an- swer the requisitions of a statute given as the rule of human duty. As, therefore, we are all breakers of the divine law, and as no future conformity to its precepts, were it absolutely perfect, can compensate for this violation, we are all inevitably undone, if not interested in the righteousness and propitiation of Jesus Christ. Of the need vv^e stand in of this propitiation, and of that righteousness there can be no doubt, if the remarks made on the divine law, and the divine government be accurate. By the law, we are told, is the knowledge of sin. By this rule we discover what is duty or, in other vrords, what is prohibited — what is commanded, and the penal sanction by which obedience is enforced. In the scriptures of truth, the fatal consequences of our apostasy from God are affectingly described ; and the plan formed by infinite wisdom and infinite goodness for our delivery from eternal ruin graciously revealed. M 2 132 THE REFUG£. So that while we sorrow after a godly sort, we are not like those that have no hope : we have, it is true, destroyed ourselves, but in theXord are our help and our deliverance found. Cheering, however, as this delightful truth certainly is, yet it is too commonly neglected or despised. Men are unwilling to think them- selves so degenerate as represented by the sa- cred writers, or to believe there is that intrin- sick evil in sin which is constantly affirmed. Hence the objections against the spirituality, purity, and extent of the moral law — the sub- stitution and the atonement of Christ i and also against other glorious truths inseparably con- nected with the redemption of man — ^but these objections must be considered in my next. Till then, believe me very sincerely, Yours, &c. THE REFUGK. ISy! LETTER IV. — — ^— — Man disobeying. Disloyal breaks his fealty, and sins Against the high supremacy of heav'n. Affecting Godhead, and so losing all. To expiate his treason hath nought left. But to destruction, sacred and devote, He with his whole posterity nnust die ; Die he or justice must; unless for him Some other able, and as willing, pay The rigid fatisfaction, death for death. MILTON. A HAT a condemned rebel should reject a pardon, which exempts from sufferings and from death ; that he should ungratefully treat with ridicule or with insult the herald who announced the merciful intelligence, and obstinately choose rather to run the risk of escaping deserved ruin by his own projects, than to accept deliverance by the merciful int'Tposition of his prince, is a ph^nom: Qon in the criminal world, that must excite astonishment and nonplus credibility. 134. THE REFUGE. But what less do those who disregard the righteousness and the atonement of Christ ? who represent the scriptures that inculcate the salutary doctrine as absurd, and who presump- tuously seek to escape final perdition on the ground of personal worthiness ? Few, indeed, will be found hardy enough to commend the conduct of such a contumacious wretch, though they manifestly act on the same principle. It can scarcely be imagined that those persons to whom Solomon (or rather Solomon's antitype) has reference, were so audacious as to declare in so many words — ^that they paid no regard cither to the reproof or counsel of God : and yet their conduct is interpretatively exhibited to shew that this was the genuine language of their tongues and of their hearts. ' Wisdom crieth without; she uttereth her voice in the streets ; she crieth in the chief place of con- course, in the openings of the gates , in the city she uttereth her words, saying, How long, ye simple ones, will ye love simplicity, and the scorners delight in their scorning; and fools hate knov/ledge ? Turn you at my reproof: behold, I will pour out my spirit upon you, I THE REFUGE. 135 will make known my words unto you — Be- cause I have called, and ye have refused ; I have stretched out my hand, and no man re- garded ; but ye have set at naught all my counsel, and would none of my reproof: I also will laugh at your calamity ; I will mock when your fear cometh ; when your fear cometh as desolation, and your destruction cometh i as a whirlw^ind ; when distress and anguish cometh upon you. Then shall they call upon me, but I will not answer : they shall seek me early, but they shall not find me : for that they hated knowledge, and did not choose the fear of the Lord : they would none of my counsel : they despised all my reproof. Therefore shall they eat of the fruit of their ow^n v/ay, and be filled wdth their own devices.' I know it has been asked. Is not God infi« nitely merciful ; may he not therefore glorify his name in saving sinners on the ground of mere mercy without the intervention of an atonement ? If the reasoning in my last be just, certainly he cannot — and this will appear very evident, if it be considered that mercy has 136 THF REFUGE. regard to the object as miserable — not to iii» guilt, which is the source of his misery. ' To pardon sin, as an absolute act of mercy, would be a total neglect of holiness, which is no more possible with God, than it is to put forth acts of power w^ithout wisdom. Now, the manifestation of divine holiness, in rela- tion to guilt, can only be in the infliction of deserved penalty. As he cannot act pov/er- fully without the exercise of infinite wisdom ; %o he cannot act mercifully without manifest- ing his infinite holiness. But to forgive sin, as an act of absolute mercy, would not be an act of holiness ; and therefore no such act of absolute mercy is possible with God.' Besides, if an atonement for sin be not indispensably necessary to forgiveness, the in- carnation — the life — the sufferings — and the death of Christ were superfluous: because whatever was requisite to qualify a sinner for the enjoyment of heaven might, on this hypo- thesis, have been effected by the agency of the Holy Spirit. But, in addition to thi3 gracious THE REFUGE. 137 work of the divine Comforter, there are other offices to perform. H^ is to take of the things of Christ, and show them to the church: to bring all things, in reference to his mediation, to remembrance ; and to apply his blood to the conscience, which operations necessarily in- volve an atonement. If the way was so short, that by pure favour, without satisfaction, sin might have been pardoned ; why, says Dr. Bates, should the infinite wisdom of God take so great a circuit?. — The apostle Paul sup- poses this necessity of satisfaction as an evi- dent principle, when he proves wilful apos- tates to be incapable of salvation, 'because there remains no more sacrifice for sin :' for the consequence were of no force, if sin might be pardoned without sacrifice, that is, without satisfaction. If Jesus Christ satisfied not for us, says the eloquent Daille, what mean the prophets and apostles, who proclaim at the beginning, in the middle, and at the end of all their preach- ing, ' that he died for our sins, was wounded for our transgressions, and bruised for our ini-* 138 THE REFUGE. quities : that the chastisement of our peace was upon him, and b;^ his stripes we are healed : that his soul was made an offering for sin : that he is our propitiation, through faith in his blood : that he is the Lamb of God, which taketh away the sin of the world : that he offered up himself a sacrifice for sin, and sanctified us by this oblation, and purged away our sins by himself.' There are but three ways in which a sinner can hope to escape final perdition : namely, by personal conformity to the moral law, the ab- solute mercy of God, and the atonement of Jesus Christ. As to the moral law, that excludes all ex- pectation of blessedness. ' As many as are of the works of the law are under the curse : for it is written, cursed is every one that conti- nueth not in all things which are written in the book of the law to do them. But that no man is justified by the law in the sight of God, it is evident: for, the just shall live by faith. — But all have sinned and come short of the THE REFUGE. 13§ glory of God : therefore by the deeds of the law there shall no flesh be justified in his sight.' With regard to the mercy of God, that, I have already observed, has relation to the object as miserable — not to his guilt. In reference to the righteousness and atone* ment of Christ, these lay a solid foundation for hope. He is * God's righteous servant, by the knowledge of whom, many are justified — Him hath God set forth to be a propitiation through faith in his blood, to declare his righte- ousness for the remission of sins — God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto himself, not imputing their trespasses unto them — Christ was once offered to bear the sins of many — he put away sin by the sacrifice of him- self — and unto them that look for him shall he appear the second time without sin unto salvation.' Your friend, Theron, I know, will- treat this consolatory doctrine with contempt and with N 140 THE llEIVGZ. ridicule. To suppose, it is said, that God will mark with rigorous exactness the deviation of his creatures from the strict rule of duty, is to impeach the divine goodness — to represent the Almighty as inexorable and cruel ; espe- cially when it is considered that human nature is frail and imperfect ; that the commission of particular sins is only a compliance with natural propensities, and which, therefore, if not free from blame, cs^.n never be viewed as enormities of such magnitude as to incur ever- lasting displeasure. Were I to suppose that Theron might im- pose on your simplicity and your candour by * partial representations of consequences, intri- cate deductions of remote causes, or perplexed combinations of ideas, which, having various relations, appear different as viewed on different sides ; yet what must be the event of such a triumph ? A man cannot spend all his life in frolick : age, or disease, or solitude will bring some hours of serious consideration ; and it will then afford no comfort to think, that he has extended the dominion of vice, that he THE REFUGE. 141 has loaded himself with the crimes of others, and can never know the extent of his own wickedness, nor make reparation for the mis- chief that he has caused. There is not, perhaps, in all the stores of ideal anguish, a thought more painful, than the consciousness of having propagated corruption by vitiating principles ; of having not only drawn others from the paths of virtue, but blocked up the way by which they should return ; of having blinded them to every beauty but the paint of pleasure, and deafened them to every call but the alluring voice of the sirens of destruction.' But in the appeal which your friend has made to the clemency of our beneficent Crea- tor, no regard is paid to his holiness or his justice ; to his truth and faithfulness as the moral governour of the universe. Considered in this light, his sovereign authority must operate by no rule, but must bend to the corrupt passions and inclinations of men : nay, it must, in fact, relinquish its claim to obedience ; and the Maker of all things become himself subject to the caprice of his own creatures ! 142 THE REFUGE. The drunkard thinks it hard that his mo- mentary intemperance, which is injurious to no one but himself, should be regarded as un- pardonable indulgence. The thief can never believe that his forcibly taking from others what he considers as superfluous, in order to supply his own absolute wants, is a^ crime that calls for the interposition of vengeance. Thus, respecting every species of iniquity, and through ail gradations of guilt, each transgres- sor has, in his turn, a thousand argi-ments to plead in extenuation of his crimes : and these arguments, if not sufficiently weighty to balance his guilt, ought, he thinks, so far to prevail as to secure him from final perdition. Every man becomes his own judge, and imagines himself possessed of both capacity and right to decide in his own cause. Now, according to this hypothesis, there is no fixed standard of right and wrong. There must be as many laws by which to judge, as there are individuals to be judged. The great Arbiter of the universe can give no award. He has erected his tribunal in vain ; ard must THB REFUGE. 143 either tamely acquiesce in the sentence which the criminal himself shall pronounce, or be stigmatized as a merciless tyrant. ' If,' says a sensible writer, ' the feelings of every man's mind were to be the standard of obligation, what duty that crosses their incli- nations will men perform, or what vice that flatters them will they forego, for the sake of what others call reason, and in deference to an equivocal authority arising from what philo- sophy itself, which hath talked most loudly about this authority, hath not agreed to give any name or definition to ? For every man's own feeling, that is, his inclination, will be his standard of duty, without a settled law to which to appeal, a fixed and decisive criterion of good and evil, in spite of all the fine things that have been said on the beauty of virtue — fitness and unfitness — the moral sense — and all — '^ which Theocles in raptur'd vision saw/ When men of this description are told of their situation and their danger, nothing is N 2 144 THE ni:iuc.?:. more common than for them to reply, God is merciful; but *this,' as an ingenious writer expresses it, ^ is a false and fatal application of a divine and comfortable truth. Nothing can be more certain than the proposition, nor more delusive than the inference. The truth is, no one does truly trust in God, who does not endeavour to obey him. For habitually to break his laws, and yet to depend on his favour ; to live in opposition to his will, and yet in expec- tation of his mercy ; to violate his commands, and yet look for his acceptance, would not, in any other case, be thought a reasonable course of conduct ; and yet it is by no means as uncommon as it is inconsistent. ' But the life of a dissipated, or rather a nominal christian, r.eems to be a perpetual struggle to reconcile impossibilities ; it is an endeavour to unite what God has for ever sepa- rated, peace and sin ; unchristian practices with christian observances ; a quiet conscience and a disorderly life ; a heart full of this vvorld and an unfounded dependence on the happiness of the next.' THE REFUGE. 145 That Lill attempts to separate what God has joined together are as impious as they are vain you need not be told. ' Christianity must be embraced entirely, if it be received at alL It must be taken without mutilation, as a per- fect scheme, in the way in which God has been pleased to reveal it. It must be ac- cepted, not as exhibiting beautiful parts, but as presenting one consummate whole, of which the perfection arises from coherence and de- pendence, from relation and consistency. Its power w^ill be weakened and its energy de- stroyed, if every caviller pulls out a pin, or obstructs a spring, with the presumptuous view of new modelling the divine work, and making it go to his own mind. There is no breaking this system into portions of which we are at liberty to choose one, and reject another. There is no separating the evidence from the doctrine ; the doctrines from the pre- cepts ; belief from obedience ; morality from piety ; the love of our neighbour from the love of God. If we profess Christianity at all, if we allow the divine Author to be indeed unto us wisdom and righteousness, he must be also anctification and redemption.' san 146 THE REFUGE. That all appeals to the absolute mercy of God, unconnected with his holiness and his justice, are not only fallacious, but impious in the extreme, and as inconsistent with the first principles of justice as they are repugnant to the oracles of truth, is demonstrable. If sin be really hateful to God, and incompatible with the perfect purity of his nature ; if it be inimical to the happiness of the universe ; the source of all the misery felt on earth or expe- rienced in hell ; and a transgression of a law that is denominated holy, and just, and good ; surely it cannot be unjust to punish it! The penal sanction of the law, as recorded by an apostle, runs thus : Cursed is every one that continueth not in all things written in the book of the law to do them. Now this awful sanction is just, or it is not: if it be just, it cannot be unrighteous to enforce it; if it be not perfectly equitable, it was an act of injus- tice to appoint it. One of these consequences must follow. Was the divine Lawgiver sincere, I ask ; did he or did he not mean what he said when he prohibited sin, and annexed a penalty to the IHE REFUGE. l^T precept ? If sincere, If really in earnest, his truth, in case of transgression, stands engaged to inflict the punishment incurred. ' If God, like man, his purpose could renew, His laws could vary or his plans undo ; Desponding faith would droop its cheerless wing, Religion deaden to a lifeless thing : Where could we, rational repose our trust, But in a power immutable as just?' To suppose, that he who is emphatically styled the true and faithful witness, should bear testimony to a falsehood — should be guilty of such duplicity as would stamp infamy on the character of a man, is shocking — is blas- phemy. ' God is not a man, that he should lie ; neither the son of man, that he should repent : hath he said, and shall he not do it ? or hath he spoken, and shall he not make it good ? Righteousness and judgment are the habitation of his throne : he will judge the world in righteousness, and the people with his truth.' That the m.ercy of God is great, even from everlasting to everlasting, upon them that fear 148 THE REFUGE. him, is a delightful truth. But this mercy is not manifested in a way that has the least ten- dency either to countenance or to extenuate the malignant nature of sin ; but in a way that exhibits the infinite wisdom and benevolence of God — that evinces the purity of his nature and the rectitude of his government. ' God was in Christ, reconciling the world unto him- self, not imputing their trespasses unto them.' The saints are said to be ^ blessed with all spiritual blessings in Christ ; in whom they have redemption through his blood, the forgive- ness of sins, according to the riches of his grace, and are made accepted in him the be- loved,' In the cross of Christ, mercy and truth are met together ; righteousness and peace have kissed each other. Here we behold, with astonishment and with gratitude, the just God and the Saviour ! and he that shall hope for mercy in any other way, will find that he has deceived his own soul ; ^ for' there is salvation in no other, nor any other name under heaven, given among men, whereby we must be sa» ved,' THE REFUGE. 149 This, however, is a way of saving sinners that mortifies the pride of man. It implicates him in extreme depravity, and abominable guilt : it strips him of all his supposed excel- lency, and in the grand article of justification before God, places him on a level with har- lots, publicans, and profligates. It attributes nothing to great natural abilities, shining ta- lents, eminence in science, philosophy, or lite- rature — to the possession of immense riches, extensive influence, or the pomp of princely magnificence : these are adventitious circum- stances that have no influence in the momen- tous transaction. Though charity have found- ed a thousand hospitals, erected a thousand edifices for benevolent purposes, and sup- plied the wants of millions, she cannot com- mute for one sin, nor by these acts of splendid munificence, contribute any thing to facilitate acceptance v/ith God. No moral worth, though the only thing that stamps intrinsick value on any character, and one grain of which is ten thousand times more excellent than all the elegant accomplishments, or the useful acqui- sitions ascribed to man, can plead a right to 150 THE REFUGE. share the inestimal)le blessing. These arc not actions, nor qualities for Avhich apostate men arc raised to the dignity of sons of God, and made heirs of an everlasting kingdom. Honours and privileges like these, claim a divine origin; nor will he that shall happily experience the unutterable felicity, either here or hereafter, hesitate to sing with the church triumphant — ' Unto him that loved us, and washed us fronfi our sins in his own blood, and hath madd^^is kings and priests unto God and his Father, to him be glory and dominion for ever and ever. Amen.' Salvation is a gift freely bestowed on man, not as deserving it — not as being merited by the performance of certain duties, but as a grant of absolute grace through Christ. The praise, the honour, and the glory belong to him — not to the sinnner : and the invaluable blessing must be received, if received at all, as that for which the recipient has paid no equiva- lent, performed no stipulations — as a gift gratui- tously conferred on a wretch that deserves t« perish. THE REFUGE. 151 This is a way of deliverance from eternal ruin that is honourable to all the perfections of God, exactly suited to the abject condition of man, and without which he must inevitably perish. But though it be so completely fitted to expiate his guilt, to relieve his wretchedness, and restore him to purity and to happiness ; yet the methods that infinite wisdom has adoped to effect it are so degrading to human pride, so diametrically opposite to the ideas men entertain of their own dignity and virtue, that it is frequently either wholly neglected or treated with scorn. It may, perhaps, be asked. Is it not unwar- rantably censorious to ascribe dislike to this way of salvation to the pride of man ? But to what else can it be attributed ? I appeal to the candour of those who oppose the salutary truth, and ask, whether they do not really think that there is something in their virtue and their piety which God must regard, and for which he will be finally propitious ? Now, if this be the crse, the doctrine of mere grace must of course be viewed with a frowning aspect, o 152 TtlE REFUGE. because it indicates total depravity — entire helplessness : it resists all claims to merit, and excludes every degree of regard to human excel- lence : it proceeds on a supposition of there be- ing nothing good in man, which is a degrading fact that is not credited. It is, therefore, quite natural for men with such sentiments, to explode I the doctrine altogether ; and it would be con- sistent and honourable, frankly to acknowledge that, in opposing it, the principles of selfimpor- tance did imperceptibly operate, and that there- fore, it is no breach of christian charity to attri- bute aversion from it to the influence of these principles. The doctrine of the cross has ever been, to them that perish, foolishness. The ancient Jews required a sign, and the learned Greeks sought after wisdom : Christ became to both a stumbling stone and rock of offence. He was beheld as a root out of dry ground ; as having no form nor comeliness ; no beauty to render him desirable. The means, when com- pared with the end, appeared hateful to the Jew, and absurd to the Greek ; bat to them THE REIUGF. 153 that believed, ' both Jews and Greeks, Christ became the power of God and the wisdom of God.' It is a lamentable fact, that the generality of those persons who are perpetually talking of the mercy and goodness of God, are very far from being eminent for sanctity of life. It should seem, therefore, from this circumstance, that there is a strong propensity to believe, either that sin is not so hateful as represented, or that the Almighty will not finally punish it. But this is an awful deception. ' He is not a God that hath pleasure in wickedness ; neither shall evil dwell with him.' It is a fact — an incontestable fact, ' that God is angry with the wicked every day — that he will by no means clear the guilty.' That the soul that sinneth shall die, is the irrevocable decree of heaven. Men may attempt to extenuate the turpitude of their own actions, and ' blegs themselves in their hearts, saying. We shall have peace, though we w^alk in the imagina- tions of our hearts, to add drunkenness to thirst: but the Lord will not spare them— .-He will ren- 154 THE RErUGE, der to them that are contentious, and obey not the truth, but obey unrighteousness, indigna- tion and wrath, tribulation and anguish, upon every soul of man that doth evil, of