08/Zl /UJ 09 '9QQ 'ON W3OJ A313>ia3 g -83d NV01 Q3dWVlS SV 300 SAW OUV 0311VD38 39 _9 . ^ " V _ 350 3WOH e I : I GQia3d NVCTi '. ^ r UIDW zoz , / '/ /-.//? / SERMONS, BY THE LATE REV. JOHN LOGAN, F. R. S. EDINBURGH, ONE OF THE MINISTERS OF LEITH : INCLUDING A COMPLETE DETAIL OF THE SERVICE OF A C0mmum0rc ACCORDING TO THE USAGE OF THE CHURCH OF SCOTLAND. v IN TWO VOLUMES. A NEW EDITION. TO WHICH IS PREFIXED, A MEMOIR OF THE LIFE AND WRITINGS OF THE AUTHOR. _ VOLUME I. EDINBURGH : PRINTED FOR MACREDIE, SKELLY AND CO. 34, PRINCESS STREET, AND JAMES ROBERTSON AND CO. PARLIAMENT SQUARE, EDINBURGH ; L. B. SEELEY, AND OGLE, DUNCAN AND CO. LONDON. 1822. Jf. Anderson, Printer, Mf lectures during the session 1780-81, with such universal approbation, as to be encouraged to offer himself as a candidate for the professorship of Civil History in the University of Edinburgh. In this, however, it is much to be regretted, he was disappointed ; as that chair, by a peculi- arity for which it is difficult to account, had been always filled by one of the Faculty of Advocates. In the following session he met with a disappointment still more galling. That general approbation with which his lectures had, during the preceding- sessions, been received, now began to veer ; and that patronage, with which he had hitherto been favoured, seems to have been withdrawn. He therefore determined, with a resoluteness pe- culiar to men of independent spirit, to try their fate with the public; and accordingly, in 1781, published the substance of that part of his prelections which related to ancient history, in one octavo volume, entitled, " Elements of the Philosophy of History." It would appear this performance received some encouragement ; for in the following year, herpublished one of his lectures on the manners and government of Asia. In THE REV. JOHN LOGAN. Xlll the same year he gave to the public a volume of poems, which were so favourably received, that a second edition was soon called for. Not only did he distinguish himself in the beaten track of lyric and elegiac poetry, he also cultivated the favour of the tragic muse ; and, in 1783, he produced the tra- gedy of Runnamede ; which, however, was never acted (ex- cept once in Edinburgh), on account of certain references which it was supposed to have to the politics of those times. But although it was never applauded in the theatre, yet it pleases in the closet, though unaccompanied with the magic charm of voice and gesture. Such disappointments could not fail to make a deep impression on his mind ; and they increased that melancholy to which he was naturally subject an effect which every friend to genius must lament, as it produced certain ir- regularities in conduct, rather incongruous with the sacredness of the ministerial character. His parishioners, who, it seems, could not distinguish between transient deviations from the path of rectitude, and determined wickedness, were highly enraged ; and persecuted, with relentless fury, the man who had laboured with assiduity for their good, and whose learning and talents had been devoted for their improvement. Logan, foreseeing the storm that was gathering around him, perceived that it would be inexpedient for him to remain any longer among a people who so ill requited his labour ; and, with a moderation which does him honour, agreed to with- draw from his office. After this he went to London, and was engaged in writing for the l( English Review." He also wrote a pamphlet which attracted considerable notice, entitled " A Review of thePrin- t( cipal charges against Mr Hastings*." His health now began to decline ; and his literary career, and multiplied sorrows, * The following curious fact is related by Dr Bisst-t, in hU History of the Reign of George III. " The late Mr Logan," says he, " well known for his XIV THE LIFE OF were terminated by his death, on the 25th of December 1788. The death of Mr Logan was much lamented by his friends, to whom he was always warmly attached, and by whom he was sincerely beloved ; the fury of his enemies seemed to have sub- sided, and they were willing to pay to his memory that res- pect which he looked for in vain while he lived. He was now, however, secure from the attacks of malice and the shafts of envy ; and to him the praise or blame of mortals had become empty sounds. By his will he bequeathed the sum of six hundred pounds Sterling, in small legacies, to his friends j and appointed Dr Robertson and Dr Grant his executors, to whom he entrusted his manuscripts. Accordingly, in 1790, a volume of his ser- mons was published, under the inspection of his friends, Dr Robertson, Dr Blair and Dr Hardy. In the following year a second volume was published, in which several of the dis- courses are not finished, either from the manuscript being in- complete, or not legible. The fourth edition of both volumes was published in 1800. Besides the works of Mr Logan, which we have mentioned in the course of our narrative, he left a variety of other papers, of which his executor, Dr Ro- bertson, gives the following account, in a letter to Dr Ander- son, dated Dalmeny, September 19, 1795. literary efforts, and author of the most masterly defence of Mr Hastings, went that day (the day which the eloquence of Sheridan has rendered so memorable) to the House of Commons, prepossessed for the accused, and against his accusers. At the expiration of the first hour (of Mr Sheridan's speech), he said to a friend, ' All this is declamation without proof ;' when the second was finished, This is a most wonderful oration ;* at the third. Mr Hastings acted most unjustifiably;' at the fourth, Mr Hastings is a most atrocious criminal;' and at last, ' Of all monsters of iniquity, the most atrocious is Warren Hastings.' This I was told by Mr Pater Stewart, proprietor of the Oracle, who was present." This fact does not affect the merits of the cause; but it is certainly an evidence of the suscepti, bility of Logan's feelings, and a pleasing tribute to the eloquence of th* speaker-? THE REV. JOHN LOGAN. XV w Those in verse consist of Electra, a tragedy ; the Wed- '* ding-day, a tragedy, being a translation into blank verse of " the Deserteur of Mercier ; the Carthaginian Heroine, a " tragedy, but of which there is only the first act finished ; " and about half-a-dozen of short lyric poems. Those in prose " consist of about eight numbers of an intended periodical " paper called The Guardian ; the subject of one of the num- " bers is a capital essay on the genius and writings of Addison. " Besides these I have also in my possession Mr Logan's MS. " Lectures on the Roman History, His Lectures on Roman " History begin with Romulus, and comedown to the fall of the " empire, and the establishment of the feudal system. In a ^ small volume of poems, published under the title of ' Poems by << Michael Bruce,' the following were composed by Logan : " Damon, Menalcus, and Melibceus; Pastoral Song, to the " tune of the Yellow-hair'd Laddie ;' Eclogue in the manner " of Ossian ; O de to a Fountain ; two Danish Odes ; Chorus " of < Anacreontic to a Wasp ;' the Tale of Levina (278 lines), " in the poem of Lochleven ; Ode to Paoli ; Ode to the " Cuckoo*." It is indeed matter of regret, that Dr Robertson did not publish a complete edition of the works of Logan, in- cluding the MS. mentioned above, which, we are told by Dr Anderson, he had meditated some time before his death. It would no doubt have been accompanied with a life of the in- genious but unfortunate author, by which we should have been made better acquainted with the dispositions and character of Logan, whom his friend and companion had better means of knowing than the distant biographer, who must collect his materials from the contradictory reports of tradition, from the censure of enemies, and the applause of friends. Logan has left behind him imperishable monuments of his genius as a historian, a poet, and a preacher. In the remarks Dr Anderson's edition of the British Poets, Vol. XI. p. IOJO. XVI THE LIFE OF which we are now to suggest on his works, we shall confine ourselves to the order in which they were published. His first production was, " Elements of the Philosophy of a History." This was merely an outline of his lectures, and intended, as the advertisement on the title-page in- forms us, for those gentlemen who heard his Prelec- tions ; although, however, it appears his scheme of lecturing had failed about the time of its publication. If we may be permitted to form an opinion of Mr Logan's lectures from this analysis, we would say that they contained a happy applica- tion of moral and political science to the history of mankind ; that they were distinguished by the philosophical accuracy of his investigations, the clearness of the arrangement of his historical materials, the elegance of his diction, and the beauty of his imagery. For although this small volume contains 'only general hints, and is merely an exhibition of the order in which the different facts were detailed, or subjects investigat- ed ; yet it is obviously the production of H mind accustom- ed to take a comprehensive and philosophical view of human affairs, and, from the observation of particular facts, capable of forming general principles. His Poems deserve a more minute criticism than the limits of this memoir permit us to bestow. It is impossible to read them without discerning, that he was animated with the true fire of genius ; that with him poetry was not the frigid pro- duction of art, but the genuine offspring of a mind formed for relishing the beauties of nature, and guided by the inspiration of the muses ; that his imagery is not the meretricious trap- pings of the plagiary, but the production of a mind warmed with poetic enthusiasm ; that his numbers are not merely pro- duced by the laws of criticism, but are the natural dictates of his muse ; and, in short, that he was fully qualified for " w r ak- " ing to ecstacy the living lyre." His hymns ' at the end of the volume are trulv devotional, and seem to be the effusion THE REV. JOHN LOGAN. XV11 of a mind which felt the power of religious truth. The greater number of them have, very properly, been adopted into the psalmody of our national church. Logan's mind seems to have ,been peculiarly attuned to devotional and solemn themes ; and his hymns are admirably adapted for exciting those feelings in his readers. Runnamede, the only tragedy which Logan published, is founded on the occurrences which took place at that memor- able spot, when Magna Charta was obtained, in the reign of King John. As this play is but little known, we shall lay before our readers a short sketch of it. The Norman and Saxon barons being assembled, sacrifice their mutual en- mities to the common cause of freedom. They are inform- ed, that the Dauphin of France, whom they had courted to their aid, intended to ruin them. The archbishop of Canterbury proposes to unite more closely the interests of the revolted barons, by the marriage of Arden, a Saxon Lord, to the daughter of Albemarle, a Norman ; but the lady being betrothed to Elvine, a Norman chief, just re- turned from the holy wars, an obstacle to the wished-for union occurs. This, however, is removed, in the father's ap- prehension, by the intelligence that the lover had joined the Dauphin's army ; but the lady remains unshaken in her at- tachment. In the midst of importunities to comply with the wishes of her father and the other barons, she writes a letter to Elvine, in the Dauphin's camp ; but having omitted to address it, the Dauphin's ambassador, to whom she entrusted it, su- perscribed it to his master, in order to produce a division be- tween Albemarle and Arden, the latter of whom he supposed would be disgusted at the lady's behaviour. The letter is in- tercepted ; the lady condemned to die for her conduct ; and Elvine, as her champion, saves her from the block, by killing Arden in single combat. The fidelity of Elvine to his country- is discovered, and lie is chosen the leader of the rebel host. XV11L THE LIFE OP The conferences with King John are then exhibited. He con- sents to grant the rebels the exercise of their rights, in con- sideration of their pledging themselves to resist the French in- vader. Elvine, mean time, is thrown into despair, by the discovery, that the letter written by Elvina was addressed to the Dauphin ; and, under the influence of this passion, he plunges into the hostile ranks ; where, however, he discovers, from the treacherous ambassador, the truth with regard to the letter. Elvine returns successful and safe from the fight. The piece closes with joy, and the confirmation of liberty by Magna Charta. It evidently has many blemishes ; and is not certainly of the highest order of dramatic writing : but, although it has a double plot, although the characters are thread-bare, and al- though it be apparently without a catastrophe in which all our better passions are interested, it is unquestionably an admirable performance. There is a majesty and fire in the verse truly delightful ; and the train of the incidents being natural, does not materially confuse the progress of the fable. It breathes that ardent and elevated glow of passion, which eminently shone in the character of Logan. The picture of public spirit, strug- gling with private attachments, is most exquisitely painted in the character of Albemarle ; while the language of substantial patriotism blazes in every line. As his Sermons were not prepared by himself, and proba- bly not intended for the public, they want those embellishments, and that finished accuracy, which a man of genius, full of the hopes of transmitting his name with honour to posterity, never fails to bestow upon his compositions. This circumstance, however, is not without its advantages. Those sermons which are carefully prepared for publication in which the author employs all his powers in pruning every exuberance, and re- trenching every superfluity in scrutinizing every figure, and suppressing every unnecessary epithet in smoothing every ex- THE REV. JOHN LOGA.V. XIX pression, and adjusting the cadence of every period ; though they may please the eye and gratify the ear of the fastidious critic, are not to be regarded as specimens of the author's ordi- nary addresses to his congregation, but of his abilities as a writer. The discourses of Logan, on the contrary, are ex- amples of his ordinary preaching ; for they come into our hands almost in the very same form in which they were delivered to his audience : and if we consider them in this view, we shall have the greatest reason to admire his genius. The subjects are well chosen. Removed, on the one hand, from the puz- zling subtilities of controversial divinity, and, on the other, from the dry discussions of abstract morality, they treat of doctrines which are of the last importance, and of duties which are of eternal obligation. To describe the operation of hu- man passion, and to exhibit interesting views of human life ; to enforce the obligation of virtue, and to shew the influence of religion on moral conduct ; to delineate the devout feelings of the pious heart, and to recommend love to God, and affection to the Redeemer, are the themes on which Logan delights to dwell. His sermons are characterised by a spirit of rational and elevated devotion ; by a vein of splendid imagery ; by a warm and impassioned eloquence ; by a simplicity and ele- gance of diction, which render them unrivalled specimens of pulpit oratory. It appears, however, he did not scruple to borrow occasionally from others. Besides the passages in the 4th and 1 1 th sermons at the first part, which Dr Anderson mentions as borrowed from Dr Seed, there is another in the Sermon on Retirement, taken verbatim from Blair's on that subject. And there is a beautiful passage in the Evening Sermon after the communion, taken from Bishop Sherlock's discourse on the " Sufferings of Christ." This circumstance, in the case of Logan, argues on intellectual imbecility, since his own is always equal, if not superior, to what he borrows ; it only shews, that the most ardent genius will at times be in- XX LIFE OF THE REV. JOHN LOGAN. dolent, and that the most fertile imagination has its barren seasons. From the facts and observations we have stated, the reader, it is presumed, will have formed an estimate of Logan's cha- racter. Formed by nature with tender and delicate feelings, he has displayed those feelings in the soothing strains of his delightful poetry. Endowed with vigour of intellect, and warmth of imagination, he has given proofs of his varied powers, in the comprehensiveness of his views as a historian, and the splendour of his eloquence as a preacher. His private cha- racter was distinguished by the sincerity of his friendship, and the ardour of his attachment. As a man, he was not free from failings ; but charity will wipe away the stains which truth often obliges the biographer to record. SERMON I. ON TUB INFLUENCE OF RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS, PSAL. xxvii. 4. One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after ; that I may dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of my life, to behold the beauty of the Lord, and to inquire in his temple. the author of this psalm, is much celebrated in the Sacred Scriptures. As a man, he was not without faults ; but as a king, he shines with uncommon lustre. He distinguish- ed himself in early youth, as the champion of his native land; in fighting the battles of Israel he became the hero of his age; and at last he ascended the throne, on which he sat with much splendour during many years. He was VOL. I* A Q ON THE INFLUENCE OF the founder of the Jewish monarchy. From being separate tribes, he made the Jews a na- tion. Their judge in peace, as well as their leader in war, he secured by his counsels what he had gained by his arms, and gave to Judea a name and a renown among the kingdoms of the East. To the bravery of a warrior, and the wis- dom of a statesman, he added what in all ages hasbeennoless admired, theaccomplishments of a poet or bard. " The sweet Psalmist of Is- " rael" consecrated his harp to the praises of the Lord, and composed to it sacred strains, that have ministered to the improvement and to the devotion of succeeding times, till this day. Notwithstanding all his other engagements, he found time for the exercises of religion : notwithstanding all the pleasures and honours of a throne, he found his chief happiness in the house of the Lord. " One thing have I desired of the Lord, that will I seek after, that I may a dwell in the house of the Lord all the days of " my life." Whenever his favourite subject presents itself, he takes fire, and speaks of it, not only with zeal but with transport. " How ami- able are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts ! My soul longeth, yea, even fainteth for the *' courts of the Lord : my heart rind my flesh f 4 cry out for the Jiving God/* RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. 3 It becomes then a subject worthy of our at- tention, to inquire, What there is in the public institutions of religion, to have rendered them an object of so great importance to the king of Israel ? This will appear, if we consider their influence on men with respect to their religious capacity ; with respect to their moral charac- ter ; with respect to their political state ; and with respect to their domestic life. In thejirst place, let us consider the in- fluence of religious institutions upon men, with respect to their religious capacity. There are many qualities which we share in common with the inferior animals. In the acuteness of the external senses, some of them excel our species. They have a reason of their own ; they make approaches to human intelli- gence, and are led by an instinct of nature to associate with one another. They have also their virtues, and exhibit such examples of affection, of industry, and of courage, as give lessons to mankind. But in all their actions they discover no sense of Deity, and no traces of religion. It was reserved to be the glory of man, that he alone should be admitted into the presence of his Creator, and be rendered capa- ble of knowing and adoring the perfections of A 2 4 ON THE INFLUENCE OF the Almighty. As piety is the distinguishing mark of the human race, a tendency to the ex- ercise thereof is in some degree natural to the mind. When we look up to heaven, and be- hold the sun shining in glory, or the moon and the stars walking in brightness, untaught na- ture prompts us to adore him that made them, to bow down and worship in the temple not made with hands. When w r e are surrounded by dangers on every side, and overwhelmed with deep affliction, by the law of our nature we tend to some superior Being for safety and relief: or when we are surprised with a sudden flow of unexpected prosperity, spontaneously we lift up our eyes and hands to Heaven, to pour forth the grateful effusions of the heart to our unseen Benefactor. As there are principles, then, in human nature, which incline men to religion, and principles also which incline them to society, it would not have been extraordinary, if the combined influence of the religious and asso- ciating principles had been so strong as to have prompted men to have assembled in public, for the purposes of devotion, although no law had been given to that end. But it was not left to this. Among all the nations of the world, the public interested itself in the cause ; the RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. 5 legislative authority interposed its sanction, and kings and lawgivers encouraged the pro- pensity of the people to religion. It required no profound wisdom to foresee the manifold advantages that the public worship of a Deity would introduce among men. Accordingly, temples were everywhere built, sacred cere- monies were instituted, an order of men was appointed to officiate in holy things, and cer- tain days were set apart for the people to join in the celebration of divine worship. Indeed, as to the objects, and the manner of worship, little care was taken. The magistrate gave his authority to the current belief, though ever so absurd and ridiculous, and established that form of religion which the people were best disposed to receive. It was thought sufficient, if by public and solemn acts of piety, a sense of Deity, and feelings of religion, could be im- pressed, and frequently renewed in the minds of men. But in some nations this practice, so highly beneficial to mankind, was enjoined by an authority superior to that of human gover- nors. God himself, in the system of laws which he delivered to his ancient people, hallowed the seventh day, and appointed other festivals in which the people should assemble together in order to join in the services of the 6 ON THE INFLUENCE OF sanctuary. In what concerns the celebration of the Sabbath, Christianity confirms the Mo- saic law. Our Saviour, whose practice ought to be a rule of life to Christians, attended up- on the public worship in the Jewish syna- gogues ; and the Apostles folio wed his example, till by their labours in the ministry, they had gathered together in one place, a sufficient number of converts to form a church. Then they constituted regular assemblies of Christ- ians, they ordained proper persons to preside in the public worship, and both by their pre- cept and example, recommended a constant at- tendance on these meetings of the faithful. That there must be an established religion in every state, is a principle in which not on- ly Christians, but infidels, have been agreed. In order that the public religion may be pro- ductive of any good effects, it is necessary that it make a deep impression upon the minds of the people. But if it were not for our assem- bling together on the Lord's day for public worship, that form of Christianity which is es- tablished in this country would perhaps take too feeble a hold of the mind to produce its proper effects. The Christian religion is very different from those systems of superstition which prevailed in the Pagan world, The RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. 7 heathen religion had attractions for every feel- ing of the human frame. It contained every thing that could strike the senses, or please the imaginations of men. All the apparatus of false religion, which at once amuses and en- gages the mind, was exhibited: ceremonies, pompous festivals, costly sacrifices, were con- tinually passing before the eyes of the wor- shipper. In the majesty of the temple and the splendour of the worship, the Deity seemed to be present. Ancient superstition introduced the fine arts into her train, called the powers of genius to her aid, and employed the pain- ter and the poet to hold out her charms to the world. Very different was that religion of which Jesus Christ was the author. When the Son of God descended, he appeared not like the idols of the nations. The Christian religion is pure, spiritual, divine. It is the religion of the mind and the heart ; the worship of God, who is a spirit, in spirit and in truth. There is nothing here but the simplicity of truth, and the majesty of reason, 'to persuade the world, Man, however, is not a pure intelligence, and reason is not the only attribute of his nature. Were it not, therefore, for the mode of com- munication by discourse in public assemblies, 8 ON THE INFLUENCE OF Christianity, in its simplest form, could never be a popular religion. It might employ the leisure of philosophic men ; it might operate its effect upon the few who are given to in- quiry ; but it never could engage the genera- lity of mankind. They who have not consider- ed the subject, cannot possibly conceive the astonishing difference that there is between written and spoken language; between the dead letter that appears to the eye, and the living voice that comes to the heart. The same discourse that, in a popular assembly 7 would raise the passions of the audience to the highest pitch ; send it abroad in print, and it will often have no effect at all. Add to these, that it is to the meetings of the faithful, that the promise of the divine presence is made. In the gates of Zion, God delights to dwell: and when his disciples are gathered together, Jesus has promised to be in the midst of them. True piety indeed is not confined to the sanc- tuary. High is the pleasure, and great the benefit of private devotion. But sure I am that they who have entered into the spirit, and tasted the pleasures of devotion in secret, will not be thereby prevented from approach- ing to God in the ordinances of public wor- ship. Society heightens every feeling, and RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. 9 improves every delight. All that charms the eye, or the ear, or the imagination, or the heart, is attended with double pleasure, when we share it in the company of others. In the presence of striking and exemplary piety, the careless worshipper will become devout, and the devout will become fervent. A holy em- ulation will rise in the bosoms of the faithful : the ardour will spread frombreastto breast, and the passions of one inflame the passions of all. May I not appeal to your own experience, and ask, When you have been in the spirit on the Lord's day r when the word of life was spoken from the heart to the heart, have you not felt that there was a divinity in virtue ? have you not found yourselves as if translated from earth to heaven, and experienced the emotion of mind which the Patriarch felt, when he awoke from his dream, and cried out in rapture, 6 < Surely the Lord is in this place ! " This is none other than the house of God, " and this is the gate of heaven." Secondly, Let us view the effect of religi- ous institutions upon men, with regard to their moral character. Whatever brings men together, and con- nects them in society, has a tendency to ci- 10 ON THE INFLUENCE OF vilize and improve them. Especially when they assemble together for such important purposes as the worship of a Deity, this will be the effect. There is something in the very idea of drawing nigh to God, that inspires vir- tue. When men accustomed to meet together as busy and as social creatures, assemble at stated times as rational and immortal beings, a sense of propriety will prompt them to act up to that high character. When the sons of God come to present themselves before the Lord, whatever is displeasing to God, and hostile to men, will vanish from their mind. The connection between such exercises of piety, and the practice of virtue, is nearer and more intimate than superficial reasoners are apt to imagine. There are indeed pretences to religion, without any virtue, as there are pretences to virtue without any religion ; but whoever in reality possesses the fear of God, will be thereby determined to keep his com- mandments. It must be obvious, at first view, that the sense of a Supreme Being, the inspector of human affairs, the patron of vir- tue, the avenger of sin, and the rewarder of righteousness, has a powerful tendency to strengthen ityoral obligation, to annex a new sanction to the laws, and to inspire purity in- to the manners of a people. RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS, 11 By the operation of such a principle, open violence will be restrained, and secret enmity would be checked. Society will assume a happier form, the insolence of the oppressor will be humbled, and the wild passions of the licentious be subdued. What the Scripture calls, " the power of the world to come," is felt strongly through every corner of this world. Heaven improves the earth; and the life which is to come, is a source of happiness to the life which now is. There are, indeed, I acknowledge, to the honour of the human kind there are persons in the world who feel that the possession of good dispositions is their best reward ; who would follow goodness for its own sake, and do their duty, because it is their duty, although there were neither re- wards nor punishments to come. But I know as well, that the world is not composed of such persons. Men in general are governed by their passions, their interest, the prevailing bias of their minds; and whenever their pas- sions, their interest, or the bias of their mind stand in one scale, f a and their duty in the other, it is very evident where the balance will incline. To such persons you might declaim for ever, to no purpose, on the beauty of virtue, and the harmony of a well-governed mind: 12 ON THE INFLUENCE OF they hear you not ; they are deaf to the voice of the moral charmer : Nothing less than " Thus saith the Lord," will influence their conduct. The unjust judge in the parable re- presents and characterizes the great body of mankind; if they fear not God, neither will they regard men. Thus, if the public institutions of religion were laid aside, private virtue would not long remain behind. Men in general have no prin- ciple of moral conduct but religion, and if that were taken away, they would work all impurity with greediness, whenever they could withdraw from the public eye. Human laws would of- ten be of little avail, without a sense of divine legislation; and the sanctions of men have lit- tle force, unless they were enforced by the au- thority of God. There would then be no secu- rity for the public peace; the mutual confidence between man and man would be destroyed ; the bond which keeps society together would be broken ; oaths would become mere words of course, and an appeal to the Great GOD of Heaven no more regarded than if he were an image of stone. Human life would be thrown into confusion, the safety of mankind would be endangered, and the moral' world totter to its ruin, if such a pillar were to fall. And what RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. 13 is it that maintains and spreads religious prin- ciples in the world ? What is it that keeps alive on the minds of the people, the fear of God and the belief of his providence ? It is the public institutions of religion ; it is the obser- vance of the Lord's day ; it is our assembling together in this place for the celebration of divine worship. The people, in general, have no religious principles, and no rule of life, but what they learn here ; and if these churches were once shut up, the hand of the civil magis- trate would soon force them open, in order to reclaim the criminals that would thus be let loose upon the world. In the third place, let us view the effect of re- ligious institutions upon men, with regard to their political state. The political systems that take place in the world, the facility with which the many are governed by the few, is one of the most won- derful things in the history of man. That mankind in all ages, and in all countries, should allow a few of their number to divide this globe among them; to appropriate to themselves the possessions, distinctions, and honours, and leave nothing to the majority but burdens to bear, if we had not beheld it from 14 ON THE INFLUENCE OF the first, would have appeared one of the most astonishing of all events. Would it be at all surprising, to hear a man, struck with a sense of this state of things, complain thus : 4c Is " Nature unequal in the care of her children ? " A mother to some, and a stepmother to " others ? Has she appointed me to labour in " the sweat of my brow, and another to riot *' in the fruit of my labours ? No. The fault u is not in Nature. She has no favourites. " She gives to all her sons an equal right to " inherit the earth. The fault is in them " who tamely bend their necks to the yoke, " who kneel and kiss the rod which the haugh- " ty lord waves over their heads. It never " surely was the will of heaven, that the " worthy should be scorned by the vile, and " the brave be trampled upon by the cow- " ard. Cannot I then find a band of men as " valiant and as determined as myself, to " rectify these caprices of fortune, to vindi- " cate the rights of Nature, and restore man- " kind to their original inheritance. By doing " violence at first, this usurpation on nature " was made ; and by a similar violence, Nature " requires that her reign be restored." What is it that prevents such a spirit, as I have been now describing, from frequently break- RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. 15 ing out ? What prevents bloodshed and de- vastation, and all the evils of war ? What pre- vents the world from being turned upside down? Nothing so much as the influence of religious principles upon the minds of men. Christianity gives honour to civil government, as being the ordinance of God, and enjoins sub- jection to the laws, under its own awful sanc- tions. And not only by particular precepts, but by its secret and less visible influence, it prepares the minds of men for submission to lawful au- thority. When we meet together in this place under the sanction of law, and under the pro- tection of the civil magistrate, we are put in mind of our relation to the state, and of our duty to the higher powers. Fear God and ho- nour the King) have more than a local connec- tion in scripture.* Obedience to spiritual au- thority paves the way for subjection to the ci- vil power. Hence wise legislators have, even on this account, favoured the progress of reli- gion : hence those who have attempted innova- tions in government, applied, in the first place, to the ministers of religion, and endeavoured to gain the pulpit on their side. Julian, known by the name of the Apostate, the most formi- * gee 1 Pet.-ii. 17. 16 ON THE INFLUENCE OF dable enemy the Christians ever had, was so sensible of the influence, and of the effects of preaching to the people, that he appointed a similar institution among the heathens. " My son, fear thou the Lord and the king," (said the wisest of mankind,) " and meddle " not with them that are given to change." In confirmation, we may observe, that men, characterized as given to change, have, either from infidelity, not attended upon ordinan- ces, or from enthusiasm, been above them? For, who have been innovators and disturbers ? who have been the authors of seditions and rebellions ? who have been the enemies of or- der and civil government, in many an age ? a mixture of atheists and fanatics ; two classes of men, who, though seemingly oppo- site, have been found in close bonds of union. In the fourth and last place, we have to con- sider the influence of religious institutions upon men with respect to domestic life. < It is chiefly on account of their domestic situation, that we can pronounce men happy or miserable. Here the pleasures are enjoyed which sweeten life ; here the pains are felt which embitter our days. No' uneasiness a- broad will sit heavy on a man, when the RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. 17 pleasing reflection rises in his mind, that he has happiness at home : No enjoyment from without will give real and lasting satisfaction, when he knows that he has a curse in his own house. It is no small advantage attending the insti- tutions of divine worship, that they minister to the happiness of domestic life. A new bond will be added to the conjugal union, when those whom it connects walk to the House of God in company, take sweet coun- sel with one another, and set out jointly in the way that leads to life. Watered by the dews of heaven, which fall here, the olive plants will flourish round your table. What sacred sensations will fill the bosom of a parent, when, viewing his family sitting at the feet of Jesus, he says, in the fulness of a grateful heart, u Lord ! behold me, and the children whom " thou hast given me !" There is a beauty, also, when the rich and the poor, when the high and the low, who sel- dom meet together on other occasions, assem- ble here in one place^ one great family, in the presence of their common Lord, when they are stripped of every adventitious circumstance, and where virtue makes the only distinction among them. It is the image of those golden VOL. I, B 18 ON THE INFLUENCE OF times when society began ; it is the image of the state which is to come, when God shall be all in all. Such are the effects of religious institutions upon men, with respect to their religious ca- pacity, their moral character, their political state, and their domestic life. Whoever, therefore, habitually absents him- self from attending on public ordinances, has to answer for it to his God, to his neigh- bours, to his country, and to his family. He partakes with other men in their sins ; he associates with the enemies of mankind ; and does what in him lies to undermine the ba- sis on which the order and happiness of ci- vil society is built. He teaches the false sw r earer to take the name of God in vain ; he directs the midnight robber to his neigh- bour's house ; and he delivers into the hand of the assassin, a dagger to shed innocent blood. But, blessed be God ! that, corrupted as the world is, there are not wanting instances of exemplary piety in every station of life j not only in the. middle, the lower, and the higher, but in the highest of all. While piety shines, as it now does, from the thixme ; while it has the beam of Majesty to adorn it ; let RELIGIOUS INSTITUTIONS. 19 none of the subjects fail in copying the pattern : and while we meet together in this place, let us remember, that many who have worshipped, in times past, within these walls, are now in the Higher House, in the Church of the First- born, in the Assembly of Angels, and in that Temple where the beatific presence of the Lord displays his glory, in a manner which hath not entered into the heart of man to conceive. SERMON II. ON THE PRACTICE OF DEVOTION, ROM. xii. 11. Fervent in spirit ; serving the Lord. A HE manners of mankind are perpetually varying. Two nations differ not more from one another, than the same nation differs from itself, at different periods of society. This change of customs and manners has given rise to two opinions, both of them generally re- ceived, and both of them founded on mis- take. These are, that we are always improv- ing upon our ancestors in art and in science, and always degenerating from them in religion and morals. When we talk of any work of ingenuity or of industry, composed or per- formed by our forefathers, from the highest liberal science, to the lowest mechanic art, if ON DEVOTION. 21 we allow it any praise at all, our panegyric runs in this style : " It is very well for the " time in which it was done." On the other &and, we always allow our ancestors the pre- ference in virtue. For these five thousand years past, the philosophers and moralists of every nation have extolled the times of anti- quity, and decried the age in which they liv- ed, as the worst that ever was known. " These " wicked times," " This degenerate age," are phrases that have rung in the public ear almost since the general deluge. The ages of antiquity are always ages of gold ; the pre- sent always an age of iron. The origin of these opinions I take to be this. As customs and manners are perpetu- ally fluctuating, the reigning mode is always reckoned the best, because they have no other standard but fashion. But fashion is not the standard of morals. The hand of the Al- mighty hath written the moral law, the stand- ard of virtue, upon the living tablets of every human heart. Here then the standard is fix- ed and eternal. , Accordingly, as quite a dif- ferent set of virtues and vices prevail in one age, from what prevail in another ; as we are naturally disposed to bury the faults of our forefathers in oblivion ; as we insensibly con- 22 ON DEVOTION. tract a veneration for what is great in antiqui^ ty ; hence arises the opinion, that the virtues / of a former age are greater than those of a following one. We think we degenerate from our fathers, because we differ from them. But were I to pronounce of the times in which we live, I would say that the present age is not inferior in virtue to the past. We have im- proved upon our ancestors in humanity, cha- rity, and benevolence ; we have exchanged the rage'and rancour of animals of prey, for the meek and gentle spirit of the dove. The gall of asps is transformed into the milk of human kindness. Great and enormous crimes are less frequent than they have been ; we are better members of society, better neighbours, better friends than our ancestors were. People of different opinions and sects in religion, who some hundred years ago would have been put- ting one another to death, now live together in amity and peace. Would to God I could carry on my pane- gyric, and add, that we are more religious and devout than our ancestors were ; that our zeal for the honour of God, and the interests of religion, shines with a brighter lustre, and burns with a purer flame. But alas ! my brethren, I must here change my strain, Your ON DEVOTION. 23 own eyes, your own hearts, will tell you the dismal truth. Is it not a deplorable fact, that instead of being fervent in spirit to serve the Lord, an indifference about religion almost universally prevails ? The very face of seri- ousness is banished from society, and were it riot for this day, on which we assemble toge- ther to worship the God of our fathers, the very form of godliness would be exterminated from the earth. To induce you to the practice of devotion, it is proposed, in the^r^ place, to illus- trate the importance and the advantage of serving the Lord ; and, in the second place, to explain and to enforce, with a few arguments, the duty of serving the Lord with fervency of spirit. In thejirst place, let us consider the impor- tance and the advantage of serving the Lord. We are urged to the practice of some vir- tues, by our strong sense of their inviolable obligation ; we are allured to the love of others, by the high approbation of their native beauty, which arises in every well-disposed mind ; we are engaged to the performance of others, by our experience of their utility and influence upon the public good. Piety is equally enforced in all' these respects, Its ob- 24 ON DEVOTION. ligation is indispensable ; its beauty is su- preme, and its utility is universal. It is not so much a single virtue, as a constellation of virtues. Here reverence, gratitude, faith, hope, love, concentre their rays, and shine with united glory. Whatsoever things are lovely, whatsoever things are pure, are ho- nest, or of good report ; if there be any me- rit, any praise in human action, piety compre- hends the whole. There is not a disposition of the mind which is more noble in itself, or is attended with greater pleasure than piety. It is accompanied with such inward satisfac- tion, that the duty is sufficiently rewarded by the performance ; and it hath such grandeur in it, that when duly performed, it exalts us to a state but little lower than the angels. The most illiterate man, under the impres- vsions of true devotion, and in the immediate acts of divine worship, contracts a greatness of mind that raises him above his equals. Thereby, says an admired ancient, we build a nobler temple to the Deity than creation can present. Piety is adapted to the notions of happiness and chief good which all men entertain, al- though these notions were as various in them- selves as the theories of philosophers have been ON DEVOTION. 25 about their object. If we are actuated by the mild and gentle affections, lovers of nature, willing to retire from the bustle of the world, and to steal through the vale of life with as little noise, and as much peace as possible, re- ligion sanctifies our choice, and doubles all the joys of life with the peace of heaven. Are we lovers of society, delighting to enlarge the sphere of our acquaintance in the world, and to cultivate universal friendship with all ranks and degrees of men ? Here, too, religion be- friends us, as it unites all men under one com- mon interest, that of being probationers for eternity. Are we ambitious of fame and ho- nour among men ? This is indeed the univer- sal passion. Nothing more distinguishes the nature of man, than this restless desire of ri- sing above his fellows, of becoming famous, and acquiring a name. But it does not lie in the way of every one to rise in the world, by being advanced to honour and distinction, and commanding the applause of attending multitudes : Fame unbars the gates of her temple but to a chosen few; the candidate will infallibly meet with many a disappointment and man) a downfall in climbing the steep ascent ; but tho paths of religion, that lead to glory, honon* and immortality, are ever open 26 ON DEVOTION. and safe ; by piety we already enjoy a reputa- tion among the just, arid the approbation of our own hearts, and have the certain expectation of that immortal honour which cometh from God only, who writes our name in the book of life. Hither let the man of the world turn, that he may find durable riches, more to be de- sired than gold and all earthly possessions* Here the man of pleasure may find a perpetual fund of enjoyment, in drinking of that stream which proceeds from the river of life ; a stream whose fountain never fails, which has no sedi- ment at bottom, and which runs for ever un- mingled with the waters of bitterness. Piety is the foundation of virtue and mo- rality. True devotion strengthens our obli- gations to a holy life, and superadds a new motive to every social and civil duty. Upon an impartial observation of mankind* it will be found, that those men who are the most conscientious in the public and private exer- cises of divine worship, will be most diligent in performing the duties they owe to their neighbour, and in observing the rules of mo- rality. Our holy religion lays us under strong obligations to duty ; the spirit of Christianity dwelling in the heart, must of Tiecessity in- spire it with an ardent desire to p^form what- ON DEVOTION. 27 ever things are virtuous and praiseworthy ; and the example of Jesus Christ, which the true Christian sets continually before his eyes, will engage him, by all the laws of love, to walk as he also walked, who, according even > to the testimony of his enemies, " did all " things well." On the other hand, impiety and immorality naturally go together, as cause and effect. Who is it that is altogether cor- rupt, and a worker of iniquity ? It is the fool, who has said in his heart, There is no God. When we read of the unjust judge in the Gospel, who feared not God, we natural- ly infer that he regarded not man. Under this particular, we may likewise take notice, that serving the Lord with sincere piety, is the most successful method of becoming pub- licly useful in the world. Man, fallen as he certainly is, is still a benevolent being. Formed for society, he delights in the ex- ercise of his social faculties, he aspires to be eminently useful in the station in which he is placed, and is in his proper element, when he is dispensing happiness around him. The sympathetic emotions that rise in the bosom at the sight of an object in distress, the smile that wakens on the cheek, the tear that starts spontaneous from the eye, at the representar 28 ON DEVOTION. tion of scenes of human joy or sorrow, are indisputable indications of the benevolence of our nature. But the low station of many, checks the benevolence of their hearts, and circumscribes it to a narrow sphere. Few have it in their power to become useful to their country, by contriving or effectuating public-spirited designs ; few have it in their power to save their country from the miseries of war, by being its shield in the day of battle; few can act as the instruments of Pro- vidence, in bringing about national happiness. But all of us can be pious, and by serving the Lord with fervency of spirit, can become uni- versally useful to our country and to the world. By piety, like the prophets of old, we can shield our country from the wrath of heaven ; we can interest Omnipotence on its side, and even derive blessings to ages un- born. A good man is the guardian angel of his countrv. * I shall only add on this head, that by serv- ing the Lord here, we have an earnest and anticipation of the happiness of the heavenly state. It is a pleasant reflection, and well worthy of our most serious thought, that we are now entering upon a course of life that will be our employment through eternity. As ON DEVOTION. 29 man is a progressive being, gradually tending to perfection, it is a law of his nature, that he should endeavour to act beforehand, the part to which he is destined in a higher state of being. The child, from his earliest years, an- ticipates in sport the employment of maturer age, loves to imitate the actions of men, and is pleased with the name, We are all of us chil- dren, with respect to our future existence ; and should it not be as natural for him who is born from above, to act over the exercises and enjoyments of that state of being to which he is advancing ? Piety is the beginning of heaven in the mind: Here the sun faintly beams, as in the dubious twilight ; there he shines forth in full meridian glory. What an inestimable privilege then is this, which God hath put into our power ? A life sacred to piety, and to the observance of true and unde- filed religion, introduces us beforehand into the world to come, and gives us an acquaint- ance with the state and society of the angels and blessed spirits who dwell in light. I come now to the second thing proposed, which was, to explain that fervour of spirit, so requisite in the exercises of devotion, and en- force it with a few arguments. 30 ON DEVOTION. By fervour of spirit, in general, is meant an uncommon application of mind in the per- formance of any thing, a warmth bordering upon transport, that moves every spring of the heart, and carries all before it, to gain its end. So that by fervency of spirit in serving the Lord, must be understood, an ardent and ac- tive desire of loving the Lord, of worshipping him in sincerity, and obeying his commands with all our heart, with all our soul, with all our mind, and with all our strength. It con- sists not in a few transient ^fits and starts of natural devotion when we are in jeopardy, without help of man ; neither is it a wild blaze of religious passion, that flashes and vanishes; much less shall it be profaned by confounding it with those furies, Enthusiasm and Supersti- tion, who would drench a country with inno- cent blood, under pretence of serving the Lord. " Cursed be their anger, for it is fierce, and " their wrath, for it is cruel. O my soul en- " ter not thou into their secret." True fervour of spirit proceedeth from above. It is a beam from the father of lights, pure and benign, which at once enlightens and warms the mind. It is a ray from the Sun of Righteousness, bright even at the be- ginning, and which shineth more and more ON DEVOTION. 31 unto the perfect day. It is a temper wrought into the heart by the Holy Spirit, compound- ed of love to God, and of zeal for his honour, attended with charity to man. This fervour of mind, in its full extent, is one of the brightest ornaments of the Christian. It enters into the heart, and engages the whole man on the side of devotion ; it gives a double measure of force and alacrity to that religion which before was sincere. In a word, it is to the spiritual life, what health is to the natural; it makes that spirited and 'cheerful, which otherwise would only breathe and move. Con- scious that religion is his grand concern, the fervent Christian will set about the duties of it with suitable ardour and intenseness of mind. The passions and affections which God hath given man, as the springs of action, will in him be exerted to their noblest purpose, to inspire him with alacrity and cheerfulness in the ways of the Lord. He will be in pain till he has performed his duties of devotion, and labours of love, holding nothing too dear which will procure to him that robe of holi- ness, which is beautiful in the eyes of Heaven. He feels in his heart all the devout affec- tions and desires so passionately described by the holy Psalmist, which we know not whether 32 ON DEVOTION. to admire most as beautiful strains of poetry, or raptures of devotion. " As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so panteth my soul " after thee, O God. My soul thirsteth for " God, yea, the living God : when shall I " come and appear before God ? How amiable " are thy tabernacles, O Lord of hosts ! My " soul longeth, yea, fainteth for the courts " of the Lord. For, a day in thy courts is " better than a thousand. The desire of my " soul is to thee, O God, and to the remem- " brance of thy name. With my soul have I " desired thee in the night, yea, with my spi- " rit within me will I seek thee early. My " soul waiteth for thee, O Lord, more than " they that watch for the morning ; yea, more " than they that watch for the morning." To engage us more effectually to the per- formance of this part of our duty, let us con- sider the general obligations we lie under, as rational creatures, to serve the Lord with fer- vency of spirit, and then the particular obliga- tions that arise from Christianity. And, in theirs/ place, As the Almighty is the Creator of the world, and the Father of the human race, he is likewise their Preserver, and the author of order and harmony in the uni- verse. ON DEVOTION. 33 In his Providence, he takes us, the children of men, into his particular tuition, in giving us, from his immediate hand, all things requi- site for our subsistence, well-being, and de- light in this world, our well-ordered habita- tion ; in making nature spontaneously unlock to us her hidden stores ; in causing the wide creation, one way or other,* administer to our pleasures, as if heaven and earth contended which should be most liberal of their favours to happy man ; and, in fine, admitting us, above all the other inhabitants of our earth, into the plan of his creation, and making us specta- tors of that beauty, original and supreme, the image of himself, which he hath poured forth over all his works. But when we consider his particular Provi- dence, with respect to every one of us, our ob- ligations will be infinitely heightened. Here we discern the finger of God. His goodness lent a favourable ear to all our feeble cries and complaints, when we were upon the breast ; he guarded us from a thousand dangers and diseases which hung over our heads, and cut off more than one half of our equals in age ; he hath led us, as it were, by the hand, through the various stages of life, affording us many de- VOL. i. c 34 ON DEVOTION 1 . liverances, and many tokens of his loving kind- ness, which only ourselves and Heaven were privy to ; and when all things in the world seemed to combine against us, he was a friend that never failed. Seeing, then, he upholds our existence, and is the parent of so many mercies, has he not, as our Supreme Benefac- tor, a title to the service of our whole lives, and to all the fervour of our spirits? This will appear still more, in the next place, when we consider the superior obliga- tions which we are laid under by Christia- nity. While many nations are sitting in dark- ness, and the shadow of death, on us hath the Sun of Righteousness arisen, in full glory. We are let into the mystery kept hid from ages. We have seen the Deity, in human form, descending upon earth, to teach the be- nighted nations the knowledge of salvation; to set a pattern of goodness and perfection for the world to imitate ; and, by expiating the guilt of sin upon the cross, to finish our re- demption. We have now a new and living way opened into the Heaven of Heavens, by the blood of Jesus. Life and immortality are brought to light, and promised to all who sin- cerely believe and obey the gospel. So that we may now rejoice with the Poet of Israel, ON DEVOTION. 35 " As the heaven is high above the earth, so " great is the mercy of the Lord towards us ; " for as far as the east is from the west, so far " hath he removed from us all our iniquities : " He redeemeth our lives from destruction, " and crowneth us with loving-kindness and " tender mercies." When we are obliged to any of our fellow- creatures for an important favour, what plea- sure is it to a generous heart to be able to make the least return ! If our benefactor be above us in his station in life, if he bestowed the favour without any solicitation on our part, and promises still to continue our friend, shall we not take every occasion of shewing that we are not ungrateful, and search for opportunity of serving him, as for hid treasure ? What thanks, what praises, what services, shall we not then render to our Supreme Benefactor, who had translated us from his kingdom of darkness into the kingdom of his Son ; who delivered up his Son unto the death for us, and with him freely gives us all things ! We have abundance of ardour and zeal in our temporal concerns. We rise early, and sit up late : we deny ourselves the pleasures and comforts of society : we forego our native country, and all the dear connections of early c 2 36 ON DEVOTION. life : we traverse the whole terraqueous globe, expose ourselves to the mercy of winds and waves, and bear alternately the extremities of heat and cold : we breathe in the regions of infection and of death, to amass a few pieces of shining dust, whose acquisition costs us such sore trouble, and whose possession gives us so little happiness. Almighty God ! shall we be thus fervent and zealous in every temporal, in every trivial concern, and remain cold and dead unto thee ! If thus we continue, my brethren, the very heathens issuing forth from their re- gions of darkness, will set up a tribunal and call us before them : " The men of Nineve " shall rise up in judgment with us, and shall " condemn us ; because they repented at the " preaching of Jonas, and behold a greater than " Jonas is here ! The Queen of the South shall " rise up in judgment with us, and shall con- " demn us ; for she came from the uttermost " parts of the earth, to hear the wisdom of " Solomon, and behold a greater than Solo- " mon is here !" u Verily, it shall be more " tolerable for the land of Sodom and Go- " morrha, in the day of judgment, than for our city." Do you consider, my brethren, the digni- ty and importance of that religion, to which ON DEVOTION. 37 your attachment is required ? Do ye reflect, that this is the masterpiece of infinite wisdom ; that here the Almighty made bare his holy arm, and put forth all his strength ? The in- troduction of this religion was the object of all the dispensations of the Deity upon earth. This is the centre in which terminates every line in the great circle of Providence. If one nation was victorious, and another put under the yoke ; if war was commissioned to ravage and lay desolate the earth, or peace to make the joyful inhabitants sing beneath the vine ; if kings were crowned, or were dethroned ; if empires rose or fell, all was preparatory and subservient to this grand event. The mo- narchies which prevailed in the world, whe- ther Assyrian, Persian, Grecian, or Roman, were erected as introductory to the Messiah, whose kingdom was to be without bounds, and whose reign was to be without end. That great image which the Monarch of the East beheld in his dream, whose head was of gold, whose breast was of silver, whose thighs were of brass, and whose feet w r ere of iron, was set up by Providence, to prepare the way for the Stone which was cut out without hands, which was destined to smite the image, become a great mountain^ and fill the whole earth. AH SB ON DEVOTION. events, whether prosperous or adverse, whe- ther malignant or benign, have co-operated towards the advancement of our religion. Saints have established it by their lives : mar- tyrs have confirmed it, by their deaths : hypo- crites have added strength to it, by their dis- simulation : tyrants have purified it, by their persecutions : infidels have corroborated it, by their opposition : the arrows of its enemies have served for its protection : the resistance which it has met with, from the combined wit and genius and malice of mankind, have brought forth those illustrious and immortal defences, which establish its truth upon the basis of demonstration. Shall we not, then, reckon ourselves eter^ nally indebted to the infinite goodness of God, and stir up all that is within us to bless his holy name ? saying in the language of true fervour of spirit, " We will praise thee, O " God ! we will praise thee with our whole " heart ! our lives shall be thy sacrifice ! we " will adore thee in death, and through eter- " nity!" God, from his throne in heaven, doth not behold an object more noble, and more worthy of his view, than a pious man r ; a man who, conscious of the dignity and immortality of ON DEVOTION. 39 his nature, employs himself with fervour and zeal, in those devout exercises which assimi- late him to the Divinity, who, measuring time by his improvements in devotion and virtue, never loses a day. He is the favourite of Heaven. The arm of the Almighty is stretch- ed out in his behalf. The Lord loves him, and keeps him as the apple of his eye ; he gives his angels charge concerning him, to preserve him in all his ways, lest at any time he should dash his foot against a stone. He delights to speak his praise in the assemblies of his saints and angels above : he writes his name in the book of his remembrance, and gives him the honourable title of the friend of God. He makes all things work together for his good in this world, and, in the dark vale of death, opens his eyes to discern the dawning of heavenly day. In fine, he holds his very ashes sacred ; and, raising him up at the last day, carries him to his throne in heaven above, with the glorious company of the redeemed, to be made partaker of his own happiness. These are thy palms, O piety ! thine is the kingdom prepared above, thine the power with God and with man, and thine the crown of glory that fadeth not away ! SERMON III. ON EARLY PIETY. ECCLES. xii. 1. Remember now thy Creator in the days of thy youth. WHEN Solomon, in early youth, had ascend- ed the throne of Israel, the God of his fa- thers appeared to him in a dream. The Al- mighty was graciously pleased to condescend thus to visit his creature. He put in his offer all the pleasures of the world, and desired him to ask, and he should receive ; to wish, and he should enjoy. The young king pos- sessed a wisdom beyond his years, and a great- ness above his crown. He did not ask to have his palace filled with the beauties of the East, to have his treasury stored with the gold of Ophir, or to wear the laurel of victory ON EARLY TIETY. 41 over the nations. He asked a greater boon than all these. " Give thy servant, O Lord," replied the wise prince, " Give thy servant '* wisdom and understanding." What he then made the object of his own choice, he recom- mends to you under another name, in the words of the text : " Remember now thy " Creator in the days of thy youth." This is the last chapter of the works of So- lomon, and these words may be regarded as his dying advice to the young. The philoso- phers of antiquity, who held out the lamp of wisdom to the heathen world, gave the same achice to their followers. But between them raid Solomon, there is this remarkable differ- ence; they, from the obscure retirement of the schools, declaimed against pleasures which they had never tasted, and affected to despise honours to which they never had it in their power to ascend. But Solomon, a great and powerful prince, in the pleasurable time of life, had in his own person tried the experi- ment. He made the tour of the sensual world. He went in quest of happiness through all the scenes of life. He extended his search over the broad and flowery way, as well as in the narrow path, as it should seem by a par- ticular permission of Providence, to save the 42 ON EAHLY pains of future inquirers. Solomon acted the libertine upon a principle of inquiry. The re- sult of his researches was, that all unlawful pursuits began with vanity, and e-nded in vexation of spirit, and that the true happiness of man consisted in that understanding which teaches us to depart from evil, and in that wisdom which instructeth us to fear the Lord. It is common in Scripture, to express all the acts of devotion and virtue by some part or principle of religion, sometimes by wisdom and understanding ; at other times, by faith, love, the fear of God, walking with God, and many other phrases ; all of which express the same meaning, and denote the whole economy of a religious life. So that remembering our Creator in the days of our youth, implies an early and an entire dedication of ourselves to the service of God. In further discoursing upon these words, I shall enforce the exhortation in the text, and endeavour to persuade you to remember your Creator in the days of your youth, from the peculiar suitableness of religion to the early period of life. And, in thejirst place, let me exhort you now, in the days of youth, to re^ member your Creator, from your being as yet uncorrupted by the world. ON EARLY PIETY. 43 Although both Scripture and experience testify that man is fallen, and that our nature is corrupted, yet it is equally certain, that our earliest passions are on the side of virtue, and that the good seed springs before the tares. Malice and envy are yet strangers to your bosom. Covetousness, that root of evil, hath not yet sprung up in your heart ; the selfish, the wrathful, and the licentious passions, have not yet obtained dominion over you. The modesty of nature, the great guardian of vir- tue, is not seduced from its post. You would blush, even in secret, to do a deed of disho- nesty and shame. High sentiments of honour and of probity, expand the soul. The colour comes into the cheek at the smallest appre- hension of blame ; the ready lightning kindles in the eye at the least appearance of treachery and falsehood. Hence, says our Lord to his followers, Unless you become as a child ; unless you assume the candour, the innocence, and the purity of children, you cannot enter into the kingdom of God. Therefore, whilst you are yet an offering fit for heaven, present your-* selves at his altar ; devote yourselves to his service. How beautiful and becoming does it appear for young persons, newly arrived in this city of God, to remember the end for 44 ON EARLY PIETY. which they were sent into it, and to devote to their Maker's service the first and the best of their days ? When they are in the prime of youth and of health, when the mind is untaint- ed with actual guilt, and alive to every gener- ous impression, to consecrate to religion the vernal flower of life ? The virgin innocence of the mind, is a sacrifice more acceptable to the Almighty, than if we should come before him with the cattle upon a thousand hills, and with ten thousand rivers of oil. If there be joy in heaven over a great and aged sinner that repenteth, how pleasing a spectacle will it be to God, to angels and to the spirits of just men made perfect, to behold a person in the critical season of life, acquit himself glorious- ly, and despising the allurements, the deceit- ful and transitory pleasures of sin, choose for himself that better part which shall never be taken away ! Dare, then, O young man, to remember thy Creator in the days of thy youth, Have the courage to be good betimes. Beware of fall- ing into the usual snare of the inexperienced ; beware of thinking that you have time enough to be religious, and for that reason may defer the work of your salvation to maturer age? when, as you foolishly imagine, seriousness ON EARLY PIETY. 45 and sanctity will come of their own accord. In answer to this, let me ask you, my friends, How often have you observed time reform any one ? Did time reform Saul ? Did time reform Ahab ? Did time reform Jezebel ? On the contrary, did they not grow bolder in wickedness ? You generally, indeed, observe a greater decency in maturer age. The ebul- lition of youth is then spent, its turbulence is over ; but, too often, I am afraid, the wild passions have only given place to an external sobriety, whilst the heart is far from God, and as carnal as ever. If you suspect this to be a hasty decision, examine what passes in the world. Do you not observe great part of men in the decline of life as earthly-minded as before ? The passion for pleasure has indeed abated, but the love of lucre, the most sordid of all passions, hath come into its place. If such persons have any regret for their past life, it is only because it is past. Even then they look with envy upon the gay and the flourishing state of the young. With what joy and tri- umph do they talk over the excesses of their early days, and seem to renew their age in the contemplation of their youthful follies ? Alas, my friends, is not God the Lord of all your time ? Is there one of your days which doth 46 ON EARLY PIETY. not pertain to him? Why would you then take the flower of life, and make it an offer- ing to the enemy of souls ? Is your time too long to be all employed in the service of God ? Is the prime of your days too precious to be devoted to heaven ? And will you only re- serve to your Maker the refuse of life, the leavings of the world and the flesh ? If you would speak it out, the language of your heart is this: That whilst you are good for any thing^ you will mind the world and its pleasures ; that you will crown yourselves with rose-buds before they are withered, and let no flower of the spring pass away ; but if at any time the world shall forsake you, if your passion for pleasure shall have left you* you will then seek the comforts of religion; any part of your time, you think, is good enough for God ; you will apply yourselves to the work of your sal- vation, when you are fit for nothing else ; and when you cannot make a better of it, you will seek the kingdom of heaven. Is it thus that ye requite the Lord, O people, foolish and unjust ? Is this your gratitude to your benefactor ? Is this your love to your Father? Is this your kindness to your Friend? Whilst he now calls upon you in 'the sweetest language of Heaven, My son, give me thy ON EA11LY PIETY. 47 " heart," ought it not to be the natural move- ment of your heart, to answer, with the good man of old, " With my soul have I desired " thee in the night ; with my spirit within me, " will I seek thee early:" -" Whom have I in " heaven but thee? and there is none in all the <6 earth whom I desire besides thee." In the second place, Let me exhort you to early piety, from the consideration of those evils which await you in your future days. Now is your golden age. When the morn- ing of life rejoices over your head, every thing around you puts on a smiling appearance. All nature wears a face of beauty, and is animated with a spirit of joy. You walk up and down in a new world j you crop the unblown flower, and drink the untasted spring. Full of spirit, and high in hope, you set out on the journey of life : visions of bliss present themselves to view : dreams of joy, with sweet delusion, a* muse the vacant mind. You listen and ac- cord to the song of hope, " To-morrow shall be as this day, and much more abundant." But ah ! my friends, the flattering scene will not last. The spell is quickly broken, and the enchantment soon over. How hideous will life appear, when experience takes off the 48 ON EARLY r-IETY. mask, and discovers the sad reality! Now thou hast no weariness to clog thy waking hours, and no care to disturb thy repose. But know, child of the earth, that thou art born to trouble, and that care, through every subse- quent path of life, will haunt thee like a ghost. Health now sparkles in thine eye, the blood flows pure in thy veins, and thy spirits are gay as the morning : but, alas ! the time will come when diseases, a numerous and a direful train, will assail thy life ; the time will come, when pale and ghastly, and stretched on a bed, " chastened with pain, and the multitude of " thy bones with strong pain, thou wilt be " ready to choose strangling and death rather " than life." You are now happy in your earthly com- panions. Friendship, which in the world is a feeble sentiment, with you is a strong passion, But shift the scene for a few years, and behold the man of thy right-hand become unto thee as an alien. Behold the friend of thy youth, who was one with thine own soul, striving to supplant tliGe, and laying snares for thy ruin ! I mention not these things, my friends, to make you miserable before the time. God forbid that I should anticipate the evil day, unless I could arm you against it. Now re- ON EARLY PIETY. 49 member your Creator, consecrate to him the early period of your days, and the light of his countenance will shine upon you through life. Amid all the changes of this fluctuating scene you have a Friend that never fails. Then let the tempest beat, and the floods descend, you are safe and happy under the shelter of the Rock of ages. Thirdly, The season of youth devoted to piety, will yield you a comfortable old age. When the fire and spirit of youth are decay- ed ; when sober age retires from the noise and bustle of a busy world, and loves to spend in peace the tranquil Sabbath of life, what joy will it afford to be able to look back with pleasure on the actions of other years ! Worn out and weary of his pilgrimage, the traveller now entertains himself by recalling the times that are past, and recollecting the scenes of his early days. In particular, he now loves to recall the period of childhood and of youth, when he wandered up and down, a stranger to care and sorrow, and passed his days in in- nocence. Often does the fond idea recur; often the pleasant period return. It will add much, my friends, it will add much to the plea- sures of the reflection, if you have it in your VOL. i. D 50 ON EARLY PIETY. power to recall to mind that your early clays were not only innocent but useful, and devot- ed to the service of your Creator. To look back on a life, no season of which was spent in vain ; to number up the days, the months, and the years, spent in the service of God, will be inward rapture only to be felt. This will- cause the evening of life to smile, and make your departure like a setting sun. I shall conclude with one consideration, which I hope will have weight, and that is, if you seek God now in the days of youth, you are certain of success. Go out in the morn- ing of youth, and you are sure to gather the manna of everlasting life. God himself will- bend from his throne, and teach your spirits to approach unto him. They who seek him early shall find him, and shall be guarded from evil on his holy mountain. SERMON IV. ON THE IMPROVEMENT OF TIME, COLOSS. iv. 5. Redeeming the Time. AMONG those who have their time most at their own disposal, there prevails a maxim very different from that which is recommend- ed in the text. The maxim of the world is, to spend time in idleness and folly, or* to speak in their own language, < 4 to kill time" by dissipation and amusement. Life, which appears so short upon the whole, is neverthe- less so long in particular parts, that vast num- bers of men are overstocked with its days and hours ; their time hangs heavy on their hands; they know not how to employ it, or what to 52 ON THE IMPROVEMENT make of themselves. As they have no fund of entertainment within, and for that reason no happiness at home, they naturally look out for it abroad. Hence every pastime is greedily sought after, that can banish thought, and save them from their own company. Hence places of public entertainment are fre- quented, parties of pleasure are formed, plans of dissipation are concerted ; and amusement, frivolous amusement, becomes the serious oc- cupation of life. Only look around you into the world ! Observe what policy and contri- vance are continually put in practice by men, for pre-engaging every day in the week for one idleness or another ; for doing nothing, or worse than nothing, and that with so much ingenuity and forecast, as scarce to leave an hour upon their hands to reproach them. Such, my brethren, is the life of what is called the world, a repetition of the same childish conceptions, a perpetual round of the same trifling amusements. If you had been sent on earth to play the fool ; if your pilgri- mage through life were merely a jaunt of plea- sure ; it would be cruel and injurious to awaken you from the delusion. But as you profess to be Christians, and believe this life to be a state of moral discipline and proba- OF TIME. 53 tion for the next, it will be proper and sea- sonable to warn you of the folly of such a course, and to point out a nobler and a happier path, where at once you may see the world, and may adorn it ; where at once you may improve your time, and enjoy life. In order to this, I shall, in the first place, give you some directions for redeeming or improving the time ; and, in the second place, set before you the obligations to the practice of this duty. We begin with directions for redeeming the time. In thejlrst place, Treasure up in your memory a store of useful knowledge, as a pro- per foundation of employment to the mind. It has been the complaint of discontented men in all ages, that life is a scene of dulness, not worth a wise man's care, where the same things come over and over like a tale that is told, which, however entertaining it may ap- pear when it is new, yet, by frequent repe- tition, at last becomes tedious and insipid. The consequence of which has been, that ma- ny, viewing the picture in this disagreeable light, have been inclined to throw off all seri- ous concern about their duty, to give them- selves up to habits of indolence and languor, 54 ON THE IMPROVEMENT mid to make no other use of their time, but to study how to trifle it away. True it is in- deed, that the days of many have thus been spent in vain ; that their life has been a barren circle, within which they have been enchant- ed, going round and round, ever in motion, but never making any advances. But although many have made life a dull round of insigni- ficant actions, yet no man had ever occasion to make it so. It is indeed so to the brutes, who soon arrive at that pitch of perfection which is allotted to their natures, where they must stop short without a possibility of going farther. Sense, which is their highest power, moves in a narrow sphere ; its objects are few in number, and gross in kind, and there- fore not only come more quickly round, but also grow more insipid at every revolution. But man is endowed with nobler faculties, and is presented with nobler objects whereon to exercise and employ them. The contem- plation of all divine truth to engage his un- derstanding ; the beauties of the natural and moral world to attract and captivate his affec- tions ; the power, the wisdom, and the good- ness of God, manifested in the works of Crea- tion, of Providence, and of Redemption, to exalt his admiration, and call forth his praise. OF TIME. 55 What employment can be more worthy a ra- tional being, or better adapted to the faculties of an immortal spirit, than thus to search out the order, the beauty, and the benevolence of nature ; to trace the Everlasting in his works, andtomark the impression of hiscreatinghand, yet recent, on a beautiful world ? Or if we turn our eyes towards the moral system, to observe a higher order of things, and a greater exertion of Divinity, in adjusting the plan of Providence, in bringing light from darkness, and good from evil, in causing the most unconnected and contrary events co-operate to one great end, and making all to issue in the general good. Here is a noble path for a rational creature to travel in. Whilst day unto day thus teaches wisdom, night unto night will increase plea- sure. The man who is thus trained up to the admiration of the works of God, and who has tasted the spirit of these sublime enjoyments, will not complain of the insignificance and languor of life. These studies will afford an occupation at all hours. They will make your own thoughts an entertainment to you, and open a fountain of happiness at home. They will diffuse somewhat of heaven over the mind ; they will introduce you before-hand into the .society of angels and blessed spirits above, and 56 ON THE IMPROVEMENT already prepare you to bear a part of that beau- tiful hymn of heaven : " Great and marvellous " are thy works, Lord God Almighty ; just " and true are all thy ways, thou King of " Saints." Secondly, Have some end in view ; some object to employ the mind, and call forth its latent powers. In devising, or in executing a plan ; in en- gaging in the whirl of active life, the soul seems to unfold its being, and to enjoy itself. Man is not like the soil on which he lives, which spends its powers in exercise, and re- quires repose, in order to recruit its wasted strength, and prepare it for new exertions. Activity is an essential attribute of mind. Its faculties exist only when they are exercised ; it gains a new accession of strength from every new exertion, and the greater acquisitions it makes, it is enabled to make still greater. It is not a brook formed by the shower ; it is a living fountain, which is for ever flowing, and yet for ever full. This will account for an ob- servation that we have often occasion to make in life, that none have so little leisure as those who are entirely idle ; that none complain so much of the want of time as those' who have nothing to do. The fact is, they want that OF TIME. 57 energy of soul which is requisite to every exer- tion, arid that habit of activity which applies to every thing. Indolence unmans the faculties ; impairs and debilitates the whole intellectual system. Those who, under its influence, be- come a kind of perpetual sleepers, degrade themselves from the honours of their nature, and are dead while they live, A habit of ac- tivity is a most valuable acquisition. He who is possessed of it is fit for all events, and may be happy in every situation. This habit is only to be acquired by pursuing some great object that may agitate the mind. Think not that your labour may be spent in vain. No- thing is in vain that rouses the soul ; nothing is in vain that keeps the etherial fire alive and glowing. The prospect of something coming forward ; the pleasure and the pride which the mind takes in its own action, beget insensibly that habit of industry which will abide through life. Thirdly, Set apart fixed and stated hours for the important duties of life. It is the misfortune of great part of men, that they have no fixed plan of acting. They live extempore. They act at random. They are always led by instantaneous impulse, and are driven to arid fro as inclination varies. 58 ON THE IMPROVEMENT Their life rolls on through a course of mispent time, and unconnected years, and appears upon review like the path of a cloud in the air, which leaves no trace behind it. It was the custom of the great Alfred, one of the English kings, to divide the day into three parts, which he measured by the burning of tapers. One part he employed in the cares of the government ; another part he dedicated to the cultivation of the liberal arts ; the third he devoted to religion. It would be happy for you, my brethren, if, in this respect, you would imitate such an illustrious example. Let, at least, one part of your time be devoted to the service of God. When the morning ascends from the east, let it be your first care to offer up your earliest thoughts as incense to heaven ; to add your praises to the hymns and hosannahs of the angels in light, and spi- rits of just men made perfect. When the shades of the night fall around you, let it be your constant care to implore the pardoning mercy of God for the errors of the past day, and to commit yourselves to the protection of His Providence who slumbers not nor sleeps. In particular, let this day, which is sacred to the memory of a Saviour's resurrection from the dead ; which is a memorial of the full ac- OF TIME. 59 complishment of our redemption ; let this clay be set apart for holy contemplation on the wonders of redeeming love, on the height, and depth, and breadth, and length of the love of Jesus to our race, which passeth all understanding ; which prompted him to forego the glories of his divine nature for a time, to take upon him the robe of humanity, to lead a life of sorrows upon earth, and to suffer a cruel and ignominious, and an accursed death. Let us contemplate this amiable and divine love, till we are changed into the same image, and feel within ourselves an earnest and anti- cipation of that everlasting Sabbath of joy which is reserved for the righteous in the world to come, when time shall be no more. In the fourth place, Endeavour to distinguish your days by some good deed. As those who are intent to amass a fortune, attend to small sums, in like manner, if you would wish to improve your time, you must take care not to lose a day. Many are the ways, and frequent the occasions, which daily pre- sent themselves, of adding to your true happi- ness, of improving your natures, and promot- ing the interests of society. You have all the world before you where to act, and the whole of human life as a theatre of virtue, Through the 60 ON THE IMPROVEMENT assistance of divine grace, conquer the excess of passion, correct some irregular desire, and obtain a victory over the vices that war against the soul. Let your goodness extend to socie- ty, and spread over the land like the light in the morning. Can there be any employment so agreeable to a benevolent mind, and so congenial to the spirit of Christianity, as to assuage the boisterous passions, and reconcile the jarring interests of men ; to open the eye which prejudice has shut; to charm down the spirit of party, and to unite all your neigh- bours in one great family of love ? Is not the employment god-like ; is not the joy divine, to brighten up the face that was overcast with sadness ; to wipe the tears from the cheek of sorrow ; to turn the voice of mourning into the notes of joy ; to make misery and woe va- nish before us like darkness before the sun ; to refresh with showers of blessings the dfy and barren land wherein no water is, and, co- operating with a beneficent Providence, to watch for the happiness of the world ? Where is there any one so destitute of the gifts of grace, of nature, and of /ortune, as to have no mite to throw into the public treasury? He who cannot pretend to enlighten or reform the world, may instruct his ignorant, or com.- OF TIME. 61 fort his afflicted neighbour: he who cannot communicate instruction, may give alms. If even these are not in your power, the gate of heaven is ever open ; the throne of grace is ever accessible ; and by your intercession with God, society may reap more benefit, than from the bounty of the opulent, or the labours of the learned. It was thus that Job improved his time, as we learn from his affecting com- plaint, when he reviewed the days of his pros- perity : " O that I were as in months past, as in " the days when God preserved me ; as in the " days of my youth, when the candle of the " Lord shined upon my head, when the Al- 66 mighty was yet with me, when my children " were about me ; when the ear heard me, " then it blessed me ; when the eye saw me, " it gave witness to me ; because I delivered " the poor that cried, the fatherless, and him " that had none to help him. I was eyes to " the blind, feet was I to the lame : I was a " father to the poor, and the cause which I " knew not, I searched out. The stranger " did not lodge in the street; I opened my " doors to the traveller. The loins of the " naked blessed me, and were warmed with " the fleeces of my flock. The blessing of " him that was ready to perish came upon me, 62 ON THE IMPROVEMENT fi and I caused the widow's heart to sing for In the last place, Accustom yourselves to frequent self-examination. Call yourselves to an account at the close of the day. Inquire what you have been do- ing ; whether you have lost a day, or redeem- ed the time. Have you learned any useful truth ; treasure it up in your heart, as a valu- able acquisition ; make it a principle of ac- tion, and bring it into life. Have you done a good deed? then enjoy the self-approving hour, and give thanks unto God for the pleasures of virtue, and the testimony of a good con- science. Have you been led astray by temp- tation, and overtaken in a fault? repent sin- cerely of your past transgression; implore the mercy of God, through the merits of Jesus Christ, and resolve, through divine grace, to be more guarded in the time to come. Did we, my brethren, thus make a study of a holy life; were we as much in earnest about im- proving the soul in piety and virtue, as we are about many trifling concerns, to what high de- grees of sanctity might we ascend ! How plea- sant would it be, at the close of any period of time, to look back on a life, no season of which was spent in vain; to number up the days, the OF TIME. 63 months, the years, that are marked with good deeds; to behold our youth, our manhood, and our age, as so many stages in our journey to the land of Emanuel? This would inspire us with that peace of God which passeth all understanding. This would cheer the travel- o ler in the decline of his days. His evening would be bright and pleasant, and his sun go down in glory. Life thus spent would make us triumph in death. Time thus improved, would make us rejoice through all eternity. I have thus given you some directions for the proper improvement of time. The second thing proposed was, to set before you the obli- gations to the practice of this duty; which I shall do by considering, in the first place, your nature as men, and, in the second place, your expectations as Christians. In the first place, Let us consider our na- ture as men. It is a study full of instruction to the curi- ous or the pious mind, to contemplate the ap- pearances in the universe, and trace the laws by which it is governed. All nature is busy and active. Something is ever coming for- ward in the creation ; in the moral world, as well as in the natural, there is a design going 64 ON THE IMPROVEMENT on. The great purpose of nature in our sys- tem is to diffuse existence ; to multiply all the forms of matter and classes of being. Every element is stored with inhabitants, Even the loneliest desert is populous, and putrefaction is pregnant with life. Worlds are inclosed in worlds, and systems of being going on, that escape the eye of sense. Such is the plan of Providence in this infe- rior world. The order established at the first of time is still advancing. The divine Spirit, who at the beginning moved upon the face of the deep, and turned a chaos into a beautiful world, still continues to move, inform, and ac- tuate the great machine. Nothing in nature is at rest ; all is alive, all is in motion in the great system of God. Thou, too, O man ! art appointed to action. The love of occupation is strongly implanted in thy nature. One way or another, thou must be always employed. Woe to the man who, by his own folly, is doomed to bear the pains and penalties of idleness. Rest is the void which mind abhors. An idle man is the most miserable of all the creatures of God. He falls upon a thousand schemes to fill up his hours, and rather than want employment, is contented to lie upon the torture of the mind, while the cards are shuf- OF TIME. 65 fling, or the die is depending. The glory of our nature is founded upon exertions of acti- vity. From the want of them, those in the more affluent stations of life, whose fortune is made at their birth, so often fail in attaining to the higher improvements and honours of their nature. Have you not, on the other hand, seen men, when business roused them from their usual indolence, when great oc- casions called them forth, discover a spirit to which they were strangers before, and display to the world abilities and virtues which seem- ed to be born with the occasion? While there are so many splendid objects to allure the mind, why trust your character to be evolved by ac- cident ? Why leave your glory in the power of fortune ? This activity is not only the source of our excellence, but also gives rise to our greatest enjoyments. Even the lower class of enjoy- ments, animal pleasures, are not only consist- ent with a life of activity, but also derive from it additional sweets. Hours of leisure, sup- pose hours of employment ; they alone will relish the feast, who have felt the fatigues of the chase. But mere animal pleasures are not of themselves objects for a wise or a good man. Unless they are under the direction of VOL. i. E 66 ON THE IMPROVEMENT taste ; unless they have the accompaniments of elegance and grace ; unless they promote friendship and social joy ; unless they come at proper intervals, and have the additional heightening of being a relief from business, they soon pall upon the appetite, and disgust by repetition. Has sensuality a charm when thy friend is in danger, or thy country calls to arms ? Who listens to the sound of the viol, when the trumpet sounds the alarm of battle? When the mind is struck with the grand and the sublime of human life, it dis- dains inferior things, and, kindling with the occasion, rejoices to put forth all its strength. Obstacles in the way only give additional ar- dour to the pursuit ; and the prize appears then the most tempting to the view, when the ascent is arduous, and when the path is mark- ed with blood. Hence that life is chosen, where incentives to action abound ; hence se- rious engagements are the preferable objects of pursuit ; hence the most animating occa- sions of life are calls to danger and hardship, not invitations to safety and ease ; and hence man himself, in his highest excellence, is found to pine in the lap of repose, and to exult in the midst of alarms that seem to threaten his being. All the faculties of OP TIME. 67 frame engage him to action : the higher powers of the soul, as well as the softer feel- ings of the heart ; wisdom and magnanimity, as well as pity and tenderness, carry a mani- fest reference to the arduous career which he has to run, the difficulties with which he is destined to struggle, and the sorrows he is ap- pointed to bear. Happiness to him is an exertion of soul. They know not what they say, who cry out, u Let us build tabernacles " of rest." They mistake very much the na- ture of man, and go in quest of felicity to no purpose, who seek for it in what are called the enjoyments of life ; who seek for it in a ter- mination of labour, and a period of repose. It is not in the calm scene ; it is in the tempest ; it is in the whirlwind; it is in the thunder that this Genius resides. When once you h&ve discovered the bias of the mind ; when once you have recognised your path in life ; when once you have found out the object of the soul, you will bend to it alone ; like an eagle when he has tasted the blood of his prey, who disdains the objects of his former pursuit, and follows on in his path through the heavens. Thus have I set before you your obligations as men, to make a right use of life, and have shewed you, from the principles of nature a- E2 68 ON THE IMPROVEMENT lone, without having recourse to Christianity, that the excellency and the happiness of man consists in a virtuous course of action, and in making a proper improvement of time. Let us now, in the second place, take in the con- siderations suggested by the Christian religion, and see what new obligations arise from it, to urge us to redeem the time. It is the doctrine of revelation, then, that the present life is a state of probation for the life to come ; that we are now training up for an everlasting existence ; and that, accord- ing to our works here, we shall be judged in a future world. According, therefore, as you now sow, hereafter you shall reap. The time is now passing that decides your fate for ever. The hours are at this instant on the wing, up&n which eternity depends. In this view, let me exhort you to look back upon your past life. Call your former hours to an ac- count. Ask them what report they have car- ried to Heaven. Is there any thing in your life to distinguish it from mere existence^? Do you discern any thing but shadows in that mirror which remembrance holds up ? Is the book of memory one vast blank, or blotted all over ? If this be the case, and I am afraid it is the case with a great part of men, What OF TIME. 69 better are ye than the animals of the field or the forest? Like you they sleep and they wake; like you they eat and* they drink ; like you they perform the various functions of nature. Alas ! my brethren, did Almighty God create you after his own image, that you might sink that image to the resemblance of a beast ? For what have you done since you came into being to distinguish yourselves from the brutes that perish ? Have you glorified God in all your actions ? Have you made your calling and election sure, by a lively faith in the Lord Jesus Christ, by repentance from dead works, and by universal purity of heart and life? Have you enriched your mind with the trea- sures of wisdom ? Have you adorned your life with the beauties of holiness ? Have you laid up many deeds of piety and charity, as a good foundation against the time to come ? Un- less you have done these things, you have done nothing. You have been blanks in the uni- verse. You are as if you had never been. You have been fast asleep ; nor has your sleep been the less sound, that you have dreamed you were awake. I now call upon you to arise, or be for ever fallen. It is now high time to awake. Al- mighty God now calls upon you to finish the 70 ON THE IMPROVEMENT work which he hath given you to do. Glory, and honour, and immortality are set before you. Up then and be doing, and the Lord shall be with thee. With such views of your duty, and upon these principles of action, you will never join in the apology which some make for themselves, that the general tenor of their life is innocent, and that they have at least the negative merit to do no harm. Per- haps this account may be true ; but let me ask such persons, have you ever considered the parable of the master who called his servants to account ? He delivered talents to each of them, according as he saw fit, with this charge, " Occupy till I come." The servant who re- ceived the one talent was negligent and sloth- ful. He wrapt up his talent in a napkin, and hid it in the earth. He thought he did well, if he secured the capital till his Lord's return. But the master received the talent with indig- nation. He cast the unprofitable servant into utter darkness, and condemned him to weep- ing and wailing, and gnashing of teeth. The poor wretch was neither a thief nor a murder- er. He had not wasted his Lord's goods. He had your plea, he had done no harm. But lie was found guilty of idleness and sloth ; he received his sentence, and was condemned to OF TIME. 71 punishment. That which is the ground of your security, could not save him from con- demnation. But, in good earnest, do you no harm ? Is it no harm to wander from the cradle to the grave, in a labyrinth of amusements, either vain or childish ? Is it no harm to waste in dissipation and expensive pleasure, that wealth which might have saved an honest family from beggary and want ? Is it no harm to squander in one continued round of vanity and folly, those precious hours on which your future happiness depends ? If there be harm in hu- man actions, this is harm. It is a criminal ne- gligence which will turn the scale of your eter- nal doom. To you, my younger friends, this duty re- commends itself under the most interesting claims. You are now in that period when time can be improved to the best advantage. With you every hour of life is precious. The misimprovement of youthful days is more than the loss of time. It were of little conse- quence to throw away a few days from your life; but along with these, you cut off the substantial improvements, the real joys of maturer age. Figure to yourselves the loss which the year would sustain, if the spring 72 ON THE IMPROVEMENT were taken away ; such a loss you sustain. No tears, nor lamentations, nor bitter up- braidings, will ever recall that golden period. The star sets to rise no more ; the flood rolls away never to return. Your own experience, my aged brethren, will urge the instant necessity of redeeming the time. Consider the fate that awaits you soon; A few steps will bring you to the threshold of that house which is appointed for all living. Man that is born of a woman is of few days. He cometh forth as a flower, and is cut down ; he flieth as a shadow, and continueth not. By the unalterable law of nature, all things here hasten to an end. An irresistible rapidity hurries every thing to the abyss of eternity ; to that awful abyss, to which all things go, and from which nothing returns. The great drama of life is perpetually going on. Age succeeds to age> and genera- tion to generation. Not long ago our fathers trod the path which their fathers had trodden before them ; we have come into their room, and now supply their places. In a little time we must resign to another race, who in their turn also shall pass away, and giye place to a new generation. The race of men, saith a Jewish writer, is like the leaves of the trees, OF TIME. 73 They come forth in the spring, and clothe the wood with robes of green. In autumn they wither; they fall; the winter wind scatters them on the earth. Another race comes in the season, and clothes the forest again. Consider the world, my friends, as you saw it at first, and as you see it now. You have marked vicissitude and alteration in all human affairs. You have seen changes in almost every department of life. You have seen new ministers at the court, new judges on the bench, and new priests at the altar of the Lord. You have seen different kings upon the throne. You have seen peace and war, and war and peace again. How many of your equals in age have you survived ? How many younger than you, have you carried to the grave ? Year after year hath made a blank in the number of your friends. Your own coun- try hath insensibly become a strange land, and a new world hath arisen around you, before you perceived that the old had passed away. The samefate that hath taken awayyour friends, awaits you. Even now the decree is gone forth. The king of terrors hath received his commission, and is now on his way. If you have misemployed your time, that talent which God hath put into your hand ; if your 74 ON THE IMPROVEMENT life is marked with guilt or folly, how will you answer to your own heart at that awful hour? For, previous to the general doom, Almighty God hath appointed a day of judg- ment in the breast of every man. The last hour is ordained to pass sentence on all the rest. The actions of your former life will there meet you again. How will you then answer at the bar of your own heart, when the collected crimes of a lengthened life at one view, shall flash upon the mind ; when the ghosts of your departed hours, of those hours which we have murdered, shall rise up in ter- rible array, and look you in the face ? What would you then give for that time which you now throw away ? What would the wretch who lies on a bed of agony, extended and groaning, who feels in his heart the poisoned arrow of death; who, looking back on his past life, turns aside from the view ; who, looking forward to futurity, discerns no beam of hope to break that utter darkness which overwhelms him ; what would he then give for those hours which you now despise, to make his peace with Heaven, and fit him for his passage into the world unknown ? Ke- member, my friends, that this is no imagin- ary case ; it is a case which may soon be your OF TIME. 75 own. Be wise, therefore, while wisdom can avail, and save yourselves from the agony of repenting in bitterness of soul, when all re- pentance may be in vain. To sum up all : My friends, the time is short. We are as guests in a strange land, who tarry but one night. We wander up and down in a place of graves. We read the epi- taphs upon the tombs of the deceased. We shed a few tears over the ashes of the dead ; and, in a little time, we need from our sur- viving friends the tears we paid to the memo- ry of our friends departed. Time is precious. The time is now pass- ing that fixes our fate for ever. The hours #re, at this instant, on the wing, which carry along with them your eternal happiness or eternal misery. Time is irrecoverable. The clock is wound up once for all; the hand is advancing, and, in a little time, it strikes your last hour. SERMON V. ON REVERENCE AND HOLY FEAR. PSALM iv. 4. Stand in awe. WHEN the Patriarch Jacob departed from his father's house, and entered on that state of pilgrimage, which only terminated with his life, he lighted on a certain place, where he tarried all the night. Agreeably to the sim- plicity of the ancient world, he laid himself down to rest upon the open plain ; without any pillow but a stone of the field; and with- out any covering but the curtains of heaven. A stranger he was to the elegance and luxury of after times, but he enjoyed pleasures of a higher kind. The God of his fathers was with ON REVERENCE AND HOLY FEAR. 77 him. In the patriarchal ages, before a public revelation was given to the world, the Deity frequently appeared to holy men in dreams and visions of the night. Accordingly, Jacob, in his dream, beheld a ladder set upon the earth, the top of it reaching unto the heavens, and upon it the angels of God ascending and descending : and behold ! the Lord stood above, and said, " I am the Lord God of " Abraham, thy father, and the God of Isaac; " the land whereon thou liest, to thee will I " give it, and to thy seed; and thy seed shall " be as the dust of the earth; thou shalt spread " abroad to the east and to the west ; to the " south and to the north; and in thee, and in " thy seed, shall all the families of the earth " be blessed." Did the Patriarch awake in a rapture of joy, when he had been thus so highly favoured of the Lord ? You shall hear : " And Jacob " awakened out of his sleep, and he said, Sure- " ly the Lord is in this place, and 1 knew it " not : and he was afraid, and said, How dread- " ful is this place ! This is none other but the " house of God, and this is the gate of heaven." Though he had ascended in the visions of God, and beheld scenes of glory which few are ad- mitted to see ; though he had received the 78 ON REVERENCE AND most gracious promises of personal safety, of prosperous increase to his descendants, and of the Messiah who was to spring from his race, nevertheless an impression of reverence and awe was the last which remained upon his mind. In like manner, my friends, although you have the near prospect of commemorating the most joyful event which signalizes the annals of time, yet if, at the approaching solemnity, God shall be in this place, you will experience that state of mind which the Patriarch was in when he awoke from his dream, and an im- pression of seriousness and awe will keep its hold of your heart. There is a decree of re- verence and holy fear which ever attends reli- gion. Even when God manifests his mercy,, it is that he may be feared. Hence we are called to serve the Lord with fear, and rejoice before him with reverence. All objects make an impression upon the mind correspondent to their own nature. A beautiful object calls forth pleasing ideas, and excites a gay emo- tion. A grand object leaves upon the mind an impression of grandeur. In all sublime scenes, there is a mixture of the awful. The view of the skies by night; the 'moon moving in the brightness of her course; and the host HOLY FEAR. 79 of heaven in silent majesty performing their eternal rounds, strike an awe and adoration in- to the mind ; we feel divinity present ; we bow down and worship in the temple which the Most High God hath built with his hand, and hath filled with his presence. The pre- sence of a respectable character raises a simi- lar impression on the mind ; and the man who sets the Lord always before him, will feel his heart impressed with that mixture of serious- ness and holy fear, which the Psalmist here re- commends, when he says, " Stand in awe." In farther treating upon this subject, I shall, in the first place, point out the advantages of this seriousness and reverence which we ought to maintain upon our minds ; and, in the se- cond place, shew you the suitableness of this temper of mind to our present state. Thejirst thing proposed is, to point out the advantages of this seriousness and reverence which we ought to maintain upon our minds. The great art of happiness consists in regu- lating, with propriety, the various offices of human life. To allow no duty to interfere with another ; to prevent devotion from grow- ing austere ; and to restrain enjoyment from being criminal, is the mark of true wisdom and of true piety. Every department of life 80 ON REVERENCE AND is beautiful in its season. There is a time to be cheerful, and a time to be serious ; an hour for solitude, and an hour for society. Provi- dence hath appointed a great part of our hap- piness to consist in society. We find, in every situation of life, that it is not good for us to be alone. Hence, civil society at first was instituted; hence attachments are daily formed ; and man is cemented to man by every feeling of nature, and every tie of the heart. But, as we abuse and corrupt every thing, the blessing of society is often turned into a curse. To innocent cheerfulness, a wanton levity succeeds, which banishes sober thought, and laughs at every thing that is se- rious. How often, in life, do we meet with the sons and daughters of folly, whose sole business is amusement ; whose life is one con- tinued scene of idleness and dissipation ; ever- lasting triflers, whose volatile minds ar6 per- petually on the wing, as if they had been sent to this earth merely to play the fool. Not that I condemn cheerful society and innocent enjoyment. When God gives, let man enjoy. Let us drink from the fountain of joy, when we are sure there is no poison in the cup. But, my brethren, I' must remind you, that but a narrow interval, often but a HOLY FEAR. 81 single step lies between enjoyment and ex- cess ; between the voice of mirth and the roar of riot ; between innocent entertainment and a loose and licentious indulgence. Look back on your past life, and tell me, O man ! when was it that you felt yourself most strongly inclined to go astray ? When was it that you found yourself seduced in thought, to wander from the paths of purity and upright- ness ? Was. it not in the hour of levity and indulgence ? Did not your heart betray you when your spirits were elevated ; when you had banished sober recollection, and deli- vered yourself over to the delirium of exces- sive joy ? Here then is the advantage of se- riousness and reverence. It places a guard upon the heart. It keeps the world and its temptations at a due distance. It consecrates the mind in which it resides, as with the pre- sence of the Deity. A heart thus impressed with the fear of God, will not so readily be assaulted by the tempter, nor so easily yield to the temptation. An impure and profane guest will hardly venture upon hallowedground, or dare to violate the sanctity of a temple. The presence of a good man is a check upon the turbulence and uproar of the giddy ; they are inspired with a reverence for his charac- VOL. i. F 82 ON REVERENCE AND ter ; they feel how awful goodness is, and train themselves from those indecent levities to which they are accustomed. If a regard for man has such influence upon the mind, what may the fear of God be supposed to have? The man who is possessed of this holy fear, sets the Lord always before him. He enters beforehand into heaven, and dwells in the presence of God. And canst thou, O man ! defile the purity of heaven with the deeds of hell ? Barest thou violate the law in the presence of the Lawgiver? Barest thou sin in the very face of thy Maker ? Wilt thou make the Judge of all the earth the wit- ness of thy wicked actions, the beholder of thy loose moments ? No. In such a presence thou wilt banish all impure thoughts, and all unhallowed affections, like Moses at the burn- ing bush, because the place whereon thou standest is holy ground. Thus, of itself, this serious frame of mind is the guardian and the protector of religion ; and it also associates with other virtues which belong to the Christian character. Those who are acquainted with the nature of the mind, know the influence and extent of association upon human life and manners. It is not a single quality that marks and characterizes a HOLY FEAR. 83 man ; the virtues and the vices come in a train ; it is the temper of the soul which is all in all in the conduct of human life. But to the temper and disposition here recommend- ed, the most respectable attributes of the mind, and the most amiable qualities of the heart, are allied and peculiar. In the first place, this serious frame of mind cherishes those higher virtues of the soul, which, in the emphatic language of the Sa- cred Scripture, are called " the armour of " God." In the solemn silence of the mind are formed those great resolutions which de- cide the fate of men. That magnanimity which rises superior to the events of life ; that fortitude which bears up under the pressure of affliction ; and that Christian heroism which, neither moved with the threatenings of pain, nor with the blandishments of plea- sure, holds on rejoicing to the end ; are all of them but expressions of this character, varied and diversified according to the occurrences of life. They are the light, the giddy, and the volatile, who are the sport of caprice or the prey of passion. Persons of such a cha- racter have no permanent principle of action ; they are the sinners or the saints of accident ; and assume every folly to which the fashion 84 ON REVEREMCE AND of the world gives its sanction. Very differ- ent is the serious man who communes with his own heart. He follows not the multitude. He possesses that strenuous and steady mind, which walks by its own light, which holds its purpose to the last ; that self-deciding spirit which is prepared to act, to suffer or to die, as duty requires. Being thus, by the grace of God, the master of his own mind, he is above the world ; and through prosperity or adversity, through life or death, goes forth conquering and to conquer. He is not guid- ed by evencs like the giddy multitude, who fall into any form by the fortuitous concourse of accidents ; but, imitating the Providence of Heaven, he takes a direction of events, and makes the course of human affairs bend to his purposes, and terminate in his honour. Further, this temper and disposition is no less favourable to the milder virtues of huma- nity. A serious mind is the companion of a feeling heart. It is akin to that virtuous sen- sibility, from which all the sympathetic emo- tions are derived ; and readily associates with those good affections which constitute the most amiable part of our nature. The thoughtless and the dissipated are unconcern- ed spectators of human happiness or misery ; HOLY FEAR. 85 they mar not their enjoyments by rushing into foreign woe ; and are never so much in earnest, as to give a tear to the distresses of mankind. " They lie upon beds of ivory," saith the prophet ; " they stretch themselves " up'/ii their couches ; they chant to the " ',ound of the viol ; and they anoint them- " selves with the chief ointments ; but they " are not grieved for the affliction of their "brethren." But he who feareth God, will also regard man. The hour of incense has always been the hour of alms-giving. Whilst the heart is lifted up in devotion to God, the hands will be stretched out in beneficence to man. Think not, my friends, that these are duties of inferior importance, and not proper to be called up to your remembrance upon this occasion. The ordinance which you are soon to celebrate, is the communion of saints, and the feast of love. The cup of blessing which we bless, saith the Apostle, is it not the communion of the blood of Christ ? The bread which we break, is it not the commu- nion of the body of Christ? As we are all partakers of that one bread, so by that parti- cipation, we being many, become one body. Being thus the members of one body, the great law follows, which he afterwards lays 86 ON REVERENCE ANP down, That if one member suffers, all the members should suffer with it ; and if one member rejoices, all the members should re- joice. The second thing proposed, was to shew the suitableness of this temper of mind to our present state. And, in the jirst place, it is suited to that dark and uncertain state of being in which we now live. Human life is not formed to an- swer those high expectations which, in the era of youth and imagination, we are apt to entertain. When we first set out in life, we bid defiance to the evil day ; we indulge our- selves in dreams and visions of romantic bliss ; and fondly lay the scene of perfect and unin- terrupted happiness for the time to come. But experience soon undeceives us. We awake, and find that it was but a dream. We make but few steps in life, without finding the world to be a turbulent scene ; we soon experience the changes that await us, and feel the thorns of the wilderness wherein we dwell. Our hopes are frequently blasted in the bud ; our designs are defeated in the very moment of expectation, and we meet with sorrow, and vexation, and disappointment, on all hands- HOLY FEAR. There are lives besides our own, in which we are deeply interested ; lives in which our hap- piness is placed, and on which our hopes de- pend. Just when we have laid a plan of happy life ; when, after the experience of years, we have found out a few chosen friends, and have begun to enjoy that little circle in which we would wish to live and to die, an unexpected stroke disappoints our hopes, and lays all our schemes in the dust. When, after much la- bour and care, we have reared the goodly struc- ture ; when we have fenced it, as we fondly imagine, from every storm that blows, and in- dulge the pleasing hope, that it will always en- dure, an invisible hand interposes, and over- turns it from the foundation. Who knoweth what awaits him in life ? Who knoweth the changes through which he is destined to pass ? Son of prosperity ! Thou now lookest forth from thy high tower; thou now gloriest in thine excellence ; thou sayest that thy moun- tain stands strong, and that thou art firm as the cedar of Lebanon, But stand in awe. Before the mighty God of Jacob, and by the blast of the breath of his nostrils, the mountain hath been overturned, and the cedar in Lebanon liath fallen like the leaf before the whirlwind. At this very moment of time, the wheel is. in, 88 ON REVERENCE AND motion that reverses the lot of men, that brings the prosperous to the dust, and lays the mighty low. Now, O man ! thou rejoicest in thy strength, but know, that for thee the bed of languishing is spread; pale, ghastly and stretch- ed on thy couch, thou shalt number the tedi- ous hours, the restless days, the wearisome nights, that are appointed to thee, till thy soul shall be ready to " choose death rather than " life." Thou now removest from thee the evil day, and sayest, in thy heart, thou shalt never see sorrow ; but remember the changes of this mortal life ; for thee the " cup of trem- " bling" is prepared, and the " wine of asto- " nishment is poured out." How often, in an instant, doth a hand unseen shift the scene of the world ! The calmest and the stillest hour precedes the whirlwind, and it hath thunder- ed in the serenest sky. The monarch hath drawn the chariot of state in which he was wont to ride in triumph, and the greatest who ever awed the world have moralized at the turn of the wheel. In the second place, the propriety of this temper will appear, if we consider the scene that soon awaits us, and the awful change of being that we have to undergo. The sentence of the Lord is passed upon all flesh. Man, HOLY FEAR. 89 who art born of a woman ! one day thou must die. The decree is gone forth, and the time appointed for its fulfilment is approaching fast. Short is the period which is allotted to mortal man. In a little time the scene changes, and the places that knew us shall know us no more. We bid an eternal adieu to all below the sun ; we enter on a new state of being, and appear in the immediate presence of God. After death comes the judgment. Thou must answer, O man ! to the Searcher of hearts, for the deeds done in the body. The actions of the past life shall rise up to thy remem- brance ; the secrets of thy soul shall be dis- closed ; and thy eternal doom be fixed by God, the Judge of all. In thy last moments thou wilt be serious, and stand in awe. The most thoughtless sinner will stand aghast, and the stoutest heart will tremble at that awful, that parting hour, when, to the closing eye, God appears, with as full conviction, as if the curtain between both worlds was withdrawn, and the Judge in very deed descended to his tribunal. How serious wilt thou be when, surrounded by the sad circle of thy weeping friends, thou readest in their altered looks that thy hour is come ; when, cut off from all con- nection with mortality, thou takest the last 90 ON REVERENCE AND look of what thou heldest dear in life ; when the cold sweat, the shivering limb, and the voice faultering in the throat, announce thy departure into the world unknown ! What manner of persons ought we to be, who have such events awaiting us ! Ought we not to stand in awe; to join trembling with our mirth ; to commune with our hearts alone, and be still as in the presence of that God, before whose tribunal we have soon to appear ? In the third place, this frame of mind is pe- culiarly proper for you now, as a preparation for that solemnity which you are soon to cele- brate. Holy is every ordinance of the Lord 5 but this is the holiest of all, and should in- \ ^\ spire us with reverence and godly fear. You are to be engaged in the most solemn ordi- nance of our religion. You are to be employ- ed in the most important work of your lives, to seal your vows in the faith of everlasting redemption. You are going to transact with the God of Glory, before whom ten thousand times ten thousand angels and archangels bow down and admire and adore. You are about to commemorate the most tremendous event which is to be found in the records of time j that scene which made the sun grow dark, and which the earth trembled to behold. God HOLY FEAR. 91 shews himself to be awful, even when he ma- nifests his mercy, and causes all his goodness to pass before you. When he blesses men with the greatest testimony of his love, it is by smiting his own Son ; when the gate of heaven is set open to the world, it is opened by the blood of one who is higher than the heavens. Whilst thou rejoicest, therefore, at the re- membrance of thy redemption, think with wonder upon the ransom by which it was accomplished, and implore the assistance of the Divine Spirit, that you may serve God ac- eeptably, with reverence and godly fear. SERMON VI. ON DEATH. JOB, xxx. 23. For I know that thou uilt bring me to death, and to the house appointed for all living. THIS book of Job contains the history of a righteous man, fallen from the height of pros- perity, into scenes of great distress. Almost every affliction which falls to the lot of mortal , man, embittered his life. His goods were taken away by robbers ; his body was smitten by a loathsome and tormenting disease ; his family was cut off, and all his company made desolate by a sudden stroke from heaven ; his surviving friends proved miserable comforters, and, instead of relieving, added to his afflic- tions. His head was bare to every blast of adversity, and his heart bled with all the va- ON DEATH. 93 rieties of pain. In the course of his complaint, he utters the genuine voice of sorrow, and pours forth his soul in lamentation and woe. He sets before us the evil day ; he shews us the dark side of things, and presents to view those shades in the picture of human life, which must one day meet our eye. From these calamities, he passes, by a natural tran- sition, to the consideration of the last evil in human life : " I know that thou wilt bring " me to death, and to the house appointed for " all living." Man is a serious being. There is a string in the heart which accords to the voice of sor- row, and impressions of grief take the strong- est hold of the mind. There is a time when solitude has a charm ; when cheerfulness gives place to melancholy ; and when the house of mourning is better suited to the soul than the house of mirth. Even our amusements often partake of a serious turn. For the sake of amusement, we give our attention to histories of woe ; we sit spectators to the scene of sor- row, and devote the hours to melancholy and to tears. And yet, by a strange perversion of mind, though we rush into foreign woe, and take delight in weeping for the fate of others, yet our own departure excites little attention 94 ON DEATH. or regard, notwithstanding the many warn- ings which tell us that here we have no con- tinuing city ; although few weeks elapse with- out being marked with the funeral of a neigh- bour or a friend, we remain in a criminal in- difference 5 the tear is soon dried upon our cheeks, and we muse upon the fate of our friends with unconcern. If, by removing the thought of death, men could remove the day of death, their conduct would admit of an excuse. But whether you think of it or not, death approaches, and the want of preparation will only serve to sharpen the sting, by the surprise w'th which it may strike. Since we know then, assuredly, that God will bring us to death, and to the house ap- pointed for all living, let us consider, in the Jtrst place, the certainty of its approaching soon ; secondly, the time and manner of its arrival ; and, thirdly, the change which it in- troduces. In the first place, Let us consider the cer- tainty of death's approaching soon. All the works of nature, in this inferior sys- tem, seem only made to be destroyed. Man is not exempted. There is a principle of mortality in our frame, and, as if we were ON DEATH, 95 only born to die, the first step we take in life is a step to the grave. It was not always so. Adam came from the hands of his Creator perfect and immortal. The Almighty creat- ed man after his own image. He planted in his frame the seeds of eternal life, to grow and flourish through a succession of ages. This noble shoot, w r hich the hand of the Most High had planted, was blasted by sin. When man became a sinner, he became mortal. The doom was pronounced, that, after few and evil days, he should return to the dust from whence he was taken. Since that time, as soon as our eyes open on the light, we come under the law of mortality, and the sentence of death is passed. In the morning of our day^ we set out on our journey for eternity; thither we are all fast tending : and day and night we travel on without intermission. There is no standing still on this road. To this great ren- dezvous of the sons of Adam we are contin- ually drawing nearer and nearer. Our life is for ever on the wing, although we mark not its flight. Our motion down the stream of time is so smooth and silent, that though we are for ever moving, we perceive it not, till we arrive at the ocean of eternity. Even now death is doing his work. At this very mo- 96 ON DEATH. ment of time, multitudes are stretched on that bed from which they shall rise no more. The blood is ceasing to flow ; the breath is going out ; and the spirit taking its departure for the world unknown. When we look back on our former years, how many do we find who began the journey of life along with us, and promised to them- selves long life and happy days, cut off in the midst of their career, and fallen at our side! They have but gone before us ; one day we must follow. O man ! who now rejoicest in the pride of life, and looking abroad, sayest in thy heart, thou shalt never see sorrow, for thee the bed of death is spread ; the worm calls for thee to be her companion ; thou must enter the dominions of the dead, and be ga- thered to the dust of -thy fathers. If then death be certainly approaching fast, let us learn the true value of life. If death be at hand, then certainly time is precious. Now the day shines, and the master calls us ; in a little time the night cometh, when no man can work. To-day, therefore, hear the voice which calls you to heaven. " Now is the ac- '* cepted time ; now is the day of salvation." " Whatsoever thy hand findeth to do, do it " with thy might 5 for there is no work, nor ON DEATH. 97 " device, nor knowledge, nor wisdom, in the " grave, whither thou goest." In the second place, We may consider the time and manner of the arrival of death. Death is called in Scripture the land with- out any order ; and without any order the king of terrors makes his approaches in the world. The commission given from on high was, " Go " into the world : Strike so, that the dead may " alarm the living." Hence it is, that we sel- dom see men running the full career of life ; growing old among their children's children, and then falling asleep in the arms of nature, as in the embraces of a kind mother ; coming tb the grave like a shock of corn fully ripe ; like flowers that shut up at the close of the day. Death walks through the world without any order. He delights to surprise, to give a shock to mankind. Hence he leaves the wretched to prolong the line of their sorrows, and cuts off the fortunate in the midst of their career ; he suffers the aged to survive himself, to outlive life, to stalk about the ghost of what he was, and aims his arrow at the heart of the young, who puts the evil day far from him. He delights to see the feeble carrying the vigorous to the grave, and the father build- VOL. i. G 98 ON DEATH. ing the tomb of his children. Often, when his approaches are least expected, he bursts at once upon the world, like an earthquake in the dead of night, or thunder in the serenest sky. All ages and conditions he sweeps away with- out distinction ; the young man just entering into life, high in hope, elated with joy, and promising to himself a length of years ; the father of a family from the embraces of his wife and children; the man of the world, when his designs are ripening to execution, and the long expected crisis of enjoyment seems to approach. These, and all others, are hurried promiscuously off the stage, and laid without order in the common grave. Every path in the world leads to the tomb, and every hour in life hath been to some the last hour. Without order too, is the manner of Death's approach. The king of terrors wears a thou- sand forms ; pains and diseases, a numerous and a direful train, compose his host. Mark- ing out unhappy man for their prey, they at- tack the seat of life or the seat of understand- ing ; hurry him off the stage in an instant, or make him pine by slow degrees ; blasting the bloom of life, or, waiting till the decline, ac- cording to the pathetic picture ' of Solomon, " They make the strong men bow themselves, ON DEATH. 99 " and the keepers of the house tremble ; " make the grinders cease ; bring the daugh- " ters of music low ; darken the sun, and the " moon, and the stars ; scatter fears in the " way, and make desire itself to fail, until the " silver cord be loosed, and the golden bowl " be broken, when the dust returns to the " dust as it was, and the spirit ascends to God " who gave it." In the third place, We have to consider the change which Death introduces. Man was made after the image of God ; and the human form divine, the seat of so many heavenly faculties, graces, and virtues, exhi- bits a temple not unworthy of its Maker. Men, in their collective capacity, and united as nations, have displayed a wide field of ex- ertion and of glory. The globe hath been covered with monuments of their power, and the voice of history transmits their renown from one generation to another. But when we pass from the living world to the dead, what a sad picture do we behold ! The fall and desolation of human nature ; the ruins of man ; the dust and ashes of many generations scattered over the earth. The high and the low ; the mighty and the mean j the king and G2 100 ON DEATH. the cottager, lie blended together, without any order. The worm is the companion, is the sister of him, who thought himself of a dif- ferent species from the rest of mankind. A few feet of earth contain the ashes of him who conquered the globe ; the shadows of the long night stretch over all alike; the monarch of disorder, the great leveller of mankind, lays all on the bed of clay in equal meanness. In the course of time, the land of desolation becomes still more desolate ; the things that were, become as if they had never been ; Baby- lon is a ruin ; her heroes are dust ; not a trace remains of the glory that shone over the earth, and not a stone to tell where the master of the world is laid. Such, in general, is the hu- miliating aspect of the tomb ; but let us take a nearer view of the house appointed for all living. Man sets out in the morning of his day, high in hope, and elated with joy. The most important objects to him are the com- panions of his journey. They set out toge- ther in the career of life, and, after many mu- tual endearments, walk hand in hand through the paths of childhood and of youth. It is with a giddy recollection we look back on the past, when we consider the number and -the value of those, whom unforeseen disastez* ON DEATH. 101 and the hand of destiny hath swept from our side. Alas 1 when the awful mandate comes from on high concerning men, to change the countenance, and to send them away, what sad spectacles do they become ! The friends whom we knew, and valued, and loved, our companions in the path of life ; the part- ners of our tender hours, with whom we took sweet counsel, and walked in company to the house of God, have passed to the land of for- getfulness, and have no more connection with the living world. Low lies the head that was once crowned with honour. Silent is the tongue to whose accents we surrendered the soul, and to whose language of friendship and affection we wished to listen for ever. Beam- less is the eye, and closed in night, which look- ed serenity, and sweetness, and love. The face that was to us the face of an angel, is mangled and deformed ; the heart that glow- ed with the purest fire, and beat with the best affections, is now become a clod of the valley. But shall it always continue so ? If a man die, shall he live again ? There is hope of a tree if it be cut down ; but man giveth up the ghost, and where is he ? Has the breath of the Almighty, which animated his frame, vanish- ed into the air? Is he who triumphed in the Jiope of immortality, inferior to the worm, his 102 ON DEATH. companion in the tomb ? Will light never rise on the long night of the grave? Does the mighty flood that has swept away the nations and the ages, ebb to flow no more ? Have the wise and the worthy ; the pious and the pure ; the generous and the just ; the great and the good ; the excellent ones of the earth, who, frofa age to age, have shone brighter than all the stars of heaven, withdrawn into the shade of annihilation, and set in darkness to rise no more ? No. While " the dust returns to the " earth as it was, the spirit shall return unto *' God who gave it." Life and immortality are brought to light by the Gospel of Christ. " We know, that if our earthly house of this " tabernacle were dissolved, we have a build- " ing of God, an house not made with hands, " eternal in the heavens." The periods of human life passing away ; the certainty of the dissolution which awaits us, and the frequent examples of mortality, which continually strike our view, lead us to reflect with seriousness upon the house ap- pointed for all living. Death is the great teacher of mankind; the voice of wisdom comes from the tomb ; reflections, which shew us the vanity, will teach us the value of life. Such meditations are particularly suited to beings like us, who are subject to infirmities ON DEATH. 103 and defects. For such is the weakness of hu- man nature in this imperfect state ; such is the strength of temptation in this evil world, that frail man is often led astray before he is aware. The enemy of the soul attacks us in every quarter; approaches often under false colours, and tries every disguise, to deceive and to destroy. Vice often borders on vir- tue ; the narrow path and the broad way lie so near, that it is difficult to distinguish them, so as to order our goings aright. Inadvertence may frequently betray; the impetuosity of passion may precipitate, and the gentleness of our own nature mislead us into steps fatal to our peace. I speak not of wicked men, who acknowledge no guide but their passions, and submit to no law, but what one vice imposes upon another. I talk of the sincere and the good. The most watchful Christian has his unguarded moments ; the most prudent man speaks unadvisedly with his lips, and the meekest lets the sun go down upon his wrattu Alas ! man in his best estate is altogether va- -ity, an/ ilways stands in need of the lesson JITTAT / 7 tomb. " O that they were wise," oes, " that they understood this, that * uiey would consider their latter end !" SERMON VII. THE CHRISTIAN'S VICTORY OVER DEATH. 1 COR. xv. 55, 57. death! Where is thy sting? grave! Where is thy victory f Thanks be to God who giveth us the victory, through our Lord Jesus Christ. THE Messiah is foretold in ancient prophe- cy, as a magnificent Conqueror. His vic- tories were celebrated, and his triumphs were sung, long before the time of his ap- pearance to Israel. " Who is this," saith the prophet Isaiah, pointing him out to the Old Testament Church, " Who is this that " cometh from Edom ; with dyed garments " from Bozrah ? This that is glorious in his " apparel, travelling in the greatness of his THE CHRISTIAN'S VICTORY OVER DEATH. JJ105 *' strength ?" " I have set my King upon " my holy hill of Zion. I shall give him " the heathen for his inheritance, and the " uttermost parts of the earth for his posses- * sion." As a Conqueror, he had to destroy the works of the great enemy of mankind ; and to overcome Death, the king of terrors. The method of accomplishing this victory was as surprising as the love which gave it birth. " Forasmuch as the children are par- " takers of flesh and blood, he himself like- " wise took part of the same, that through his " own death he might destroy him that had " the power of death, that is the devil, and u deliver them, who, through fear of death, " were all their lifetime subject to bondage." Accordingly, his passion on the cross, which you have this day commemorated, was the very victory which he obtained. The hour in which he suffered was also the hour in which he overcame. Then he bruised the head of the old serpent, who had seduced our first parents to rebel against their Maker ; then he disarmed the king of terrors, who had usurped dominion over the nations, then, triumphing over the legions of hell, and the powers of darkness, he made a shew of them openly, Not for himself, but for us did he conquer. 106 THE CHRISTIAN'S VICTORY The Captain of our salvation fought, that we might overcome. He obtained the victory, that we may join in the triumphal song, as we now do, when we repeat these words of the Apostle : u O death ! where is thy sting ? O " grave ! where is thy victory ?" It is the glory of the Christian religion, that it abounds with consolations under all the evils of life ; nor is its benign influence con- fined to the course of life, but even extends to death itself. It delivers us from the agony of the last hour ; sets us free from the fears which then perplex the timid; from the horrors which haunt the offender, though pe- nitent, and from all the darkness which in- volves our mortal state. So complete is the victory we obtain, that Jesus Christ is said in Scripture to have abolished death. The evils in death, from which Jesus Christ sets us free, are the following : In the first place, the doubts and fears that are apt to perplex the mind, from the uncertainty in which a future state is involved. Secondly, the apprehensions of wrath and forebodings of punishment, proceeding from the consci- ousness of sin. Thirdly, the' fears that arise in the mind upon the awful transition from this world to the next. OVER DEATH. 107. In theirs/ place, Jesus Christ gives us vic- tory over death, by delivering us from the doubts and fears which arose in the minds of those who knew not the gospel, from the uncertainty in which a future state was in- volved. Without Divine Revelation, men wandered in the dark with respect to an after life. Un- assisted reason could give but imperfect infor- mation on this important article. Conjec- tures, in place of discoveries, presumptions, in place of demonstrations, were all that it could offer to the inquiring mind. The unenlight- ened eye could not clearly pierce the cloud which veiled futurity from mortal view. The light of nature reached little farther than the limits of this globe, and shed but a feeble ray upon the region beyond the grave. Hence, those heathen nations, of whom the Apostle speaks, are described as sorrowing and having no hope. And whence could reason derive complete information, that there was a state of immortality beyond the grave ? Consult with appearances in nature, and you find but few intimations of a future life. Destruction seems to be one of the great laws of the sys- tem. The various forms of life are indeed preserved; but while the species remains, the 108 THE CHRISTIAN'S VICTORY individual perishes. Every thing that you behold around you, bears the marks of mor- tality and the symptoms of decay. He only who is, and was, and is to come, is without any variableness or shadow of turning. E- very thing passes away. A great and mighty river, for ages and centuries, has been rolling on, and sweeping away all that ever lived, to the vast abyss of eternity. On that darkness light does not rise. From that unknown country none return. On that devouring deep, which has swallowed up every thing, no ves- tige appears of the things that were. There are particular appearances also which might naturally excite an alarm for the future. The human machine is so constituted, that soul and body seem often to decay together. To the eye of sense, as the beast dies, so dies the man. Death seems to close the scene, and the grave to put a final period to the pro- spects of man. The words of Job beauti- fully express the anxiety of the mind on this subject. " If a man die, shall he live again ? " There is hope of a tree if it be cut down, " that it will sprout again, and that the tender " branch thereof will not cease. Though " the root thereof wax old in the earth, and 44 the stock thereof die in the ground j yet OVER DEATH. 109 " through the scent of water it will bud, and " bring forth boughs like a plant : but man " dieth, and is cut off; man giveth up the " ghost, and where is he ? As the waters fail " from the sea ; as the flood decayeth and " drieth up : so man lieth down, and ris- " eth not ; till the heavens be no more, they " shall not awake, nor be raised out of their " sleep." But what a dreadful prospect does annihilation present to the mind ! To be an outcast from existence ; to be blotted out from the book of life ; to mingle with the dust, and be scattered over the earth, as if the breath of life had never animated our frame ! Man cannot support the thought. Is the light which shone brighter than all the stars of heaven set in darkness, to rise no more ? Are all the hopes of man come to this, to be ta- ken into the councils of the Almighty ; to be admitted to behold part of that plan of Pro- vidence which governs the world, and when his eyes are just opened, to read the book, to be shut for ever ? If such were to be our state, we would be of all creatures the most miserable. The world appears a chaos with- out form, and void of order. From the throne of nature, God departs, and there appears a 110 THE CHRISTIAN'S VICTORY cruel and capricious being, who delights in death, and makes sport of human misery. From this state of doubts and fears, we are delivered by the Gospel of Jesus. The mes- sage which he brought was life and immorta- lity. From the Star of Jacob, light shone even upon the shades of death. As a proof of immortality, he called back the departed spirit from the world unknown ; as an earnest of the resurrection to a future life, he himself arose from the dead. When we contemplate the tomb of nature, we cry out, " Can these " dry bones live ?" When we contemplate the tomb of Jesus, we say, " Yes, they can " live !" As he arose, we shall in like man- ner arise. In the tomb of nature, you see man return to the dust from whence he was taken. In the tomb of Jesus, you see man restored to life again. In the tomb of nature, you see the shades of death fall on the weary traveller, and the darkness of the long night close over his head. In the tomb of Jesus, you see light arise upon the shades of death, and the morning dawn upon the long night of the grave. On the tomb of na- ture it is written, " Behold thy end, O man ! " dust thou art, and unto dust shalt thou re- " turn. Thou, who now callest thyself the QVEIl DEATH. Ill w son of heaven, shalt become one of the " clods of the valley." On the tomb of Christ is written, " Thou diest, O man ! but to live " again. When dust returns to dust, the spi- " rit shall return to God who gave it. I am " the resurrection and the life ; he that be- " lieveth in me, though he were dead, yet " shall he live." From the tomb of nature, you hear a voice, " For ever silent is the land of " forgetfulness ? From the slumbers of the " grave shall we awake no more ? Like the " flowers of the field, shall we be as though " we had never been ?" From the tomb of Jesus, you hear, " Blessed are the dead that " die in the Lord, thus saith the Spirit, for " they rest from their labours, and pass into " glory : In my father's house there are many " mansions ; if it were not so, I would have " told you : I go to prepare a place for you, " and if I go away, I will come again, and " take you unto myself, that where I am, there " ye may be also." Will not this assurance of a happy immor- tality, and a blessed resurrection, in a great measure remove the terror and the sting of death? May we not walk without dismay through the dark valley, when we are conduct- ed by a beam from heaven ? May we not 112 THE CHRISTIAN'S VICTORY endure the tossiftgs of one stormy night, when it carries us to the shore that we long for ? What cause have we to dread the messenger who brings us to our Father's house ? Should not our fears about futurity abate, when we hear God addressing us with respect to death, as he did the Patriarch of old, upon going to Egypt, " Fear not to go down to the grave ; " I will go down with thee, and will bring 44 thee up again." Secondly, Our victory over death consists in our being delivered from the apprehensions of wrath, and forebodings of punishment, which arise in the mind from the consciousness of sin. That there is a God, who governs the world, the patron of righteousness, and the avenger of sin, is so manifest from the light of na- ture, that the belief of it has obtained among all nations. That it shall be well with the righteous, and ill with the wicked ; that God will reward those who diligently seek him, and punish those who transgress his laws, is the principle upon which all religion is founded. But whether mercy be an attribute in the Di- vine nature to such an extent that God may be rendered propitious to those who rebel OVER DEATH* 113 against his authority, and disobey his com- mandments, is an inquiry to which no satis- factory answer can be made. Many of the Divine attributes are conspicuous from the works of creation ; the power, the wisdom, and the goodness of God, appear in creating the world ; in superintending that world which he has made ; in diffusing life wide over the system of things, and providing the means of happiness to all his creatures. But from no appearances in nature does it clearly follow, that the exercise of mercy to offenders is part of the plan by which the universe is governed. For any thing that we know from the light of nature, repentance alone may not be sufficient to procure the remission of sins, the tears of contrition may be unavailable to wash away the stains of a guilty life, and the Divine favour may be implored in vain by those who have become obnoxious to the Divine displeasure. If, in the calm and se- rene hour of inquiry, man could find no con- solation in such thoughts, how would he be overwhelmed with horror, when his mind was disordered with a sense of guilt ? When remembrance brought his former life to view, when reflection pierced him to the heart, darkness would spread itself over his mind? VOL. i. H 114 THE CHRISTIAN'S VICTORY Deity would appear an object of terror, and the spirit, wounded by remorse, would dis- cern nothing but an offended Judge armed with thunders to punish the guilty. If, in the day of health and prosperity, these re- flections were so powerful to embitter life, they would be a source of agony and despair when the last hour approached. When life flows according to our wishes, we may endea- vour to conceal our sins, and shut our ears against the voice of conscience. But these artifices will avail little at the hour of death. Then things appear in their true colours. Then conscience tells the truth, and the mask is taken off from the man, when our sins at that hour pass before us in review. Guilty and polluted as we are, covered with confu- sion, how shall we appear at the judgment- seat of God, and answer at the bar of eternal justice ? How shall dust and ashes stand in the presence of that uncreated Glory, before which principalities and powers bow down y tremble, and adore ? How shall guilty and self-condemned creatures appear before Him ? in whose sight the heavens are not clean, and who chargeth his angels with folly ? This is the sting of death. It is guilt that sharp- ens the spea,- ol the king of terrors. But even OVER DEATH, 115 in this view we have victory over death, through Jesus Christ our Lord. By his death upon the cross, an atonement was made for the sins of men. The wrath of God was a- verted from the world. A great plan of re- conciliation is now unfolded in the gospel. Under the banner of the cross, pardon is pro- claimed to returning penitents. They who accept the offers of mercy, and who fly for refuge to the hope set before them, are taken into favour; their sins are forgiven, and their names are written in the book of life. Over them death has no power. The king of ter- rors is transformed into an angel of peace, to waft them to their native country, where they long to be. Thus, O Christian ! the death of thy Re- deemer, is thy strong consolation, thy effec- tual remedy against the fear of death. What evil can come nigh to him for \vhom Jesus died ? Does the law, which thou hast broken, denounce vengeance against thee ? Behold that law fulfilled in the meritorious life of thy Redeemer. Does the sentence of wrath, pro- nounced against the posterity of Adam, sound in thine ears ? Behold that sentence blotted out, that hand-writing, as the Apostle calls it, cancelled, nailed to thy Saviour's cross^ and ii 2 116 THE CHRISTIAN'S VICTORY left there as a trophy of his victory. Art thou afraid that the cry of thy offences may rise to heaven, and reach the ears of Justice ? There is no place for it there ; in room of it ascends the voice of that blood which speaketh better tilings than the blood of Abel. Does the enemy of mankind accuse thee at the judge- ment-seat ? He is put to silence by thy Ad- vocate and Intercessor at the right hand of thy Father. Does Death appear to thee in a form of terror, and hold out his sting to alarm thy mind ? His terror is removed, and his sting was pulled out by that hand, which, on mount Calvary, was fixed to the accursed tree. Art thou afraid that the arrows of Di- vine wrath which smite the guilty, may be aimed at thy head ? Before they can touch thee, they must pierce that body, which, in the symbols of divine institution, was this clay held forth crucified among you, and which at the right hand of the Majesty in the heavens, is for ever presented in behalf of the redeem- ed. Well then may ye join in the trium- phant song of the Apostle, " O Death ! where " is thy sting ? O Grave ! where is thy vie- tory ?" In the third place, Jesus Christ gives us OVER DEATH. 117 victory over death, by yielding us consola- tion and relief under the fears that arise in the mind upon the awful transition from this world to the next Who ever left the precincts of mortality without casting a wishful look on what he left behind, and a trembling eye on the scene that is before him ? Being formed by our Creator for enjoyments even in this life, we are en- dowed with a sensibility to the objects around us. We have affections, and we delight to indulge them : we have hearts, and we want to bestow them. Bad as the world is, we find in it objects of affection and attachment- Even in this waste and howling wilderness, there are spots of verdure and of beauty, of power to charm the mind, and make us cry out, " It is good for us to be here." When, after the observation and experience of years, we have found out the objects of the soul, and met with minds congenial to our own, what pangs must it give to the heart, to think of parting for ever? We even contract an at- tachment to inanimate objects. The tree un- der whose shadow we have often sat ; the fields where we have frequently strayed ; the hill, the scene of contemplation, or the haunt of friendship, become objects of passion to 118 THE CHRISTIAN'S VICTORY the mind, and upon our leaving them, excite a temporary sorrow and regret. If these things can affect us with uneasiness, how great must be the affliction, when, stretched on that bed from which we shall rise no more, and look- ing about for the last time on the sad circle of our weeping friends, how great must be the affliction, to dissolve at once all the attach- ments of life ; to bid an eternal adieu to the friends whom we long have loved, and to part for ever with all that is dear below the sun ! But let not the Christian be disconso- late. He parts with the objects of his affection, to meet them again, to meet them in a bet^ ter world, where change never enters, and from whose blissful mansions sorrow flies away. At the resurrection of the just ; in the great assembly of the sons of God, when all the family of heaven are gathered together, not one person shall be missing that was wor- thy of thy affection or esteem. And if among imperfect creatures, and in a troubled world, the kind, the tender, and the generous af- fections, have such power to charm the heart, that even the tears which they occasion delight us, what joy unspeakable and glorious will they produce, when they exist in perfect minds, and arc improved by the purity of the heavens ! OVER DEATH. 119 Christianity also gives us consolation in the transition from this world to the next. Every change in life awakens anxiety; whatever is unknown, is the object of fear ; no wonder, then, that it is awful and alarming to nature, to think of that time when the hour of our departure is at hand ; when this animal frame shall be dissolved, and the mysterious bond between soul and body shall be broken. Even the visible effects of mortality are not without terror. To have no more a name among the living; to pass into the dominions of the dead; to have the worm for a companion, and a sis- ter, are events at which nature shudders and starts back. But more awful still is the invi- sible scene, when the curtain between both worlds shall be drawn back, and the soul, na- ked and disembodied, appears in the presence of its Creator. Even under these thoughts, the comforts of Christianity may delight thy soul. Jesus, thy Saviour, has the keys of death ; the abodes of the dead are part of his kingdom. He lay in the grave, and hallowed it for the repose of the just. Before our Lord ascended up on high, he said to his disciples, " I go to my Father, and to your Father, to " my God, and to your God ;" and when the time of your departure is at hand, you go to 120 THE CHRISTIAN'S VICTORY OVER DEATH. your Father and his Father, to your God and his God. Enlightened by these discoveries, trusting to the merits of his Redeemer, and animated with the hope which is set before him, the Christian will depart with tranquillity and joy. To him the bed of death will not be a scene of terror, nor the last hour an hour of despair. There is a majesty in the death of the Chris- tian : He partakes of the spirit of that world to which he is advancing, and he meets his latter end with a face that looks to the hea- vens. SERMON VIII. ON THE DOCTRINE OF A PARTICULAR PROVIDENCE, PSALM xcvii. 1. The Lord rdgneth^ let the earth rejoice, To thinking men, the universe presents a scene of wonders. They find themselves brought into the world, they know not how. If they look around them, they behold the earth clothed with an infinite variety of herbs and fruits, subservient to their use, or admi- nistering to their delight. If they look above them, they behold the host of heaven walk- ing in brightness and in beauty ; the sun ruling the day ; the moon and the stars governing the night. If they attend to the course of na- lure, they behold with wonder the various re- volutions of the year ; the gradual return of 122 ON THE DOCTRINE OF A the seasons, and the constant vicissitude of day and of night. Whilst thus they are em- ployed, they behold in the heavens the glory of their Creator ; they discover iri the firma- ment the handiwork of Omnipotence, and they hear the voice that nature sends out to the ends of the earth, That all things are the work- manship of a supreme and intelligent Cause. As from these events they conclude the Al- mighty to be the Maker of the world ; from the same events, they conclude that he is the Governor of the world which he hath made, and that Divine power is as requisite to pre- serve the order and harmony of the world now, as it was necessary to establish it at the first. But when experience unfolded to them the powers of natural bodies; when they saw ma- chines contrived by human skill, exhibiting motions, and producing effects, similar to those which they observed in nature, by the impulse of matter upon matter; and when they saw these machines regularly exhibiting such mo- tions, regularly producing such effects, al- though the head that contrived, and the hand that put them together, were removed from them ; this raised an opinion, in some specu- lative minds, that the world resembled such machines ; and tljat, a a clock will shew the PARTICULAR- PROVIDENCE. 123 hour of the day, in virtue of its original frame and constitution, without any further interpo- sition of the artificer that framed it, so nature, in virtue of its original frame and constitution, may and does produce every effect which we see around us, without any further interposi- tion of its Divine Author. This opinion is frequently mentioned and confuted in the Sacred Scriptures. Those men are condemned whose belief it was, that, in the course of human affairs, the Lord would not do good, neither would he do evil. Al- though I seldom choose to carry you through the barren and unpleasant fields of controver- sy, yet, as this question affects so deeply our religious comfort in this state, and our hopes of happiness in a future world, I shall consi- der it at large, and shall, in the first place, shew you the absurdity of that opinion which would exclude God from the government of the world. Secondly, establish and confirm the doctrine of a particular Proiidencc. Third- ly, shew you the grounds of joy arising to the world from such a Providence. In i\\e first place, I am to shew you the ab- surdity of that opinion which would exclude God from the government of the world. ON THE DOCTRINE OF A It has been thought by some, " That the " Creator of the universe formed the constitu- * 4 tion of nature in such a manner at the be- you may not perhaps be able to^cast away at once ; but through the divine grace, you will insensibly weaken, and at last break them asunder. Your inclinations that may have taken a wrong bent, you may counteract, and at last recover to their origi- nal rectitude. Where nature favours a par- ticular exertion, or habit has formed you to PROGRESSIVE VIRTUE* 161 a particular virtue, the one you may cherish, the other you may cultivate ; upon both the fruits of righteousness will grow. Afterwards, be still attending to the culture of the soul, and meditating improvements, by calling forth graces that have not yet made their ap- pearance, and bringing forward to perfection those that have. Thus will your minds re- semble those trees, in which, at one and the same time, we behold some fruits arrived at full maturity ; some half advanced, and others just formed in the opening blossom. By cul- tivating these graces in the soul, you will not only have an earnest, but also an image of heaven. The trees which thus grow up by the rivers of water ; which bring forth their fruit in their season, and whose leaves con- tinue ever green, shall be transplanted to happier climes to adorn the paradise of God. In the fourth and last place, in order to make your endeavours effectual, you must abound in prayer to God for the assistance of his holy spirit. " No man becomes good " without the Divine influence. No man can " rise above the infirmities of nature unless " aided by God. He inspires great and noble " purposes. In every good man God resides. " The strength which renders a man superior to TOL. i, L 162 ON A LIFE OF " all those things which the people either hope " or dread, descends from him. So lofty a " structure cannot stand unsupported by the " Divinity." These, my friends, are the words of a heathen, and express a doctrine equally agreeable to reason and to revelation. In con- sequence of our corrupted nature, we are un- able of ourselves to produce the virtues and graces of the Divine life. But we are not left without a remedy. In the gospel of Jesus Christ, aids are promised from above, to re- pair the ruins of our nature, and to restore the powers of the soul ; God hath not for- saken the earth : as at the first of days, the Divine Spirit is still moving over the world to produce life. The Lord is ever nigh to them who call upon him in the sincerity of their heart. While we strive against sin, we may safely expect that the Divinity will strive with us, and impart that strength and power which will at last make us more than con- querors. As he who continues in wicked de- vices shall be sure to find Satan standing at his right hand, so he who begins a good life shall find God befriending him with secret aid. He will assist the spirit that is strug- gling to break loose from the bonds of its cap- tivity ; he will aid the flight of the soul that PROGRESSIVE VIRTUE. 163 is taking wing to the celestial mansions ; he will support our feeble frame under the trials and conflicts to which we are appointed, and lead us on from grace to grace^ till we appear in Zion above. " They that wait upon the 46 Lord shall renew their strength ; they shall " mount up as on eagle's wings ; they shall " run and not be weary ; they shall walk and not be faint." I come now to the last thing proposed, to exhort you to a life of progressive virtue. In the first place, then, it is your duty to make progress in the ways of righteousness. In your sanctification, you are enabled more and more to die unto sin, and live unto right- eousness. It is not enough that you continue steadfast and immoveable ; you must also a- bound in the work of the Lord, if you ex- pect your labours to be attended with success. It is not sufficient that you continue in well- doing ; you must also grow in grace, and in- crease with all the increase of God. This pro- gressive nature of righteousness is implied in all the figures and images by which a good life is represented in Sacred Scripture. It is compared to the least of all seeds, which wax- es to a great tree, and spreads out its branches 164 ON A LIFE OF branches, and fills the earth. It is compared to the morning light, at first faintly dawning over the mountains, by degrees enlightening the face of the earth, ascending higher and higher in the heavens, and shining more and more unto the perfect day. We are said to be here at the school of Christ ; and in order to attain the character of good disciples, we must not only retain what we have acquired, but also add to the acquisitions we have made. The Christian life is represented as a warfare, and in this warfare we shall never gain the victory, unless we not only maintain the ground we have got, but also gain upon the foe. It is represented as a race set before us, and in running it we must continually press for- ward, or we shall never gain the prize. Every degree of grace which you receive, and every pitch of virtue to which you attain, is a talent for which you are accountable ; a talent, which if you only retain, but not improve, you will receive the doom of a slothful and wicked servant, and be cast into outer darkness. The Christian life is a life of continued ex- ertion. At every stage in our pilgrimage on earth, new scenes will open ; ne'w situations will present themselves; and new paths of glory will be struck out. The sphere of action PROGRESSIVE VIRTUE. 165 varies continually. We have, one while, to support adversity; another while, to adorn pro- sperity ; sometimes to approve ourselves to God in solitude ; at other times, to cause our light shine before men in society. Different situa- tions in the world, and different periods of life, require the exercise of different virtues. What is accepted from the young soldier will not be excused in the veteran ; what is an " orna- " ment of grace" to the youthful brow, will not be a " crown of glory" to the hoary head* Secondly^ Let me exhort you to this life of progressive virtue, from the pleasing consider- ation that you will be successful in the at- tempt. In the pursuit of human honours and rewards, the successful candidates are few. In a race many run, but one only gains the prize. But here all who run may obtain. In the career of human glory, time and chance happen unto all, and many are disappointed. " The race is not always to the swift, nor the " battle to the strong ; nor riches to men of ** understanding ; nor favour to men of skill." There is a concurrence of circumstances re- quired to raise a man to reputation ; and when these circumstances concur, if the mo- ment of opportunity be not embraced, the 166 ON A LIFE OF field of glory may be lost for ever. In human life there is a favourable hour which never re* turns, and a call to fame which is repeated no more: even in its best estate, men ought to lay their account with disappointment and vexation. What thou hast set thy heart up- on from thy youth ; what has been the aim of all thy labours ; what has been the object of thy whole life, accident, artifice, ignor- ance, villany, caprice, may give to another whom thou knowest not. When thy ambi- tion is all on fire : in the utmost ardour of expectation, in the very moment when thou stretchest out thy hand to grasp the prize, fortune may snatch it from thy reach for ever. Nay, thou mayst have the mortification to see others rise upon thy ruins, to see thyself made a step to the ambition of thy rival, and thy endeavours rendered the means of advancing him to the top of the wheel, while thou con- tinuest low. In the pursuits of ambition or avarice, you may be disappointed ; but if by a progressive state of righteousness, you seek for glory, and honour, and immortality, I, in the name of God, assure you of success. Never was the gate of mercy shut against the true penitent; never was the prayer of the faithful rejected in the tern- PROGRESSIVE VIRTUE. 167 pie of Heaven; never did the incense of a good life ascend without acceptance on high. Liberal and unrestricted is the Divine be- nignity : free to all the fountain flows. There is no angel with a flaming sword to keep you from the tree of life. At this moment of time there is a voice from Heaven calling to you, " Come up hither." And if you are. obedient to the call, God assists you with the aids of his Spirit; he lifts up the hands that hang down ; he strengthens the feeble knees, and perfects his strength in your weakness. You are not left alone to climb the arduous ascent. God is with you, who never suffers the spirit which rests on him to fail ; nor the man who seeks his favour to seek it in vain, Your success in the path of the just will not only be pleasing to yourselves, but also to all around you. In the struggles of human am- bition, the triumph of one arises upon the sor- rows of another ; many are disappointed when one obtains the prize. But in the path of the just, there is emulation without envy, triumph without disappointment. The success of one increases the happiness of all. The influence of such an event is not confined to the earth : it is communicated to all good beings ; it adds to the harmony of the Heavens 5 and is the 168 ON A LIFE OF occasion of new hosannahs among the innu- merable company of angels and spirits of just men made perfect, who rejoice over the sin- ner that repenteth. Thirdly, Let me exhort you to make ad- vances in the path of righteousness, from the beauty and the pleasantness of such a pro- gress. Whatever difficulties may have attend- ed your first entrance upon the path of the just, they will vanish by degrees ; the steep- ness of the mountain will lessen as you ascend; the path in which you have been accustomed to walk will grow more and more beautiful ; and the celestial mansions to which you tend, will brighten with new splendour, the nearer that you approach them. In other affairs, con- tinued exertion may occasion lassitude and fa- tigue. Labour may be carried to such an ex- cess as to debilitate the body. The pursuits of knowledge may be carried so far as to im- pair the mind ; but neither the organs of the body, nor the faculties of the soul, can be en- dangered by the practice of religion. On the contrary, this practice strengthens the powers of action. Adding virtue to virtue, is adding strength to strength ; and the greater acquisitions we make, we are enabled to make still greater. IJow pleasant will it be to mark the soul thus PROGRESSIVE VIRTUE. 169 moving forward in the brightness of its course! In the spring, who does not love to mark the progress of nature ; the flower unfolding into beauty, the fruit coming forward to maturity, the fields advancing to the pride of harvest, and the months revolving into the perfect year? Who does not love in the human species, to observe the progress to maturity ; the infant by degrees growing up to man ; the young idea beginning to shoot, and the embryo character beginning to unfold ? But if these things affect us with delight ; if the prospect of external nature in its progress; if the flower, unfolding into beauty ; if the fruit coming forward to maturity ; if the infant by degrees growing up to man, and the embryo charac- ter beginning to unfold, affect us with plea- surable sensations, how much greater delight will it afford to observe the progress of this new creation, the growth of the soul in the graces of the divine life, good resolutions ri- pening into good actions, good actions lead- ing to confirmed habits of virtue, and the new nature advancing from the first lineaments of virtue to the full beauty of holiness ! These are pleasures that time will not take away. While the animal spirits fail, and the joys \vhich depend upon the liveliness of the pas- 170 ON A LIFE OF sions decline with years, the solid comforts of a holy life, the delights of virtue and a good conscience, will be a new source of happiness in old age, and have a charm for the end of life. As the stream flows pleasantest when it approaches the ocean ; as the flowers send up their sweet odours at the close of the day ; as the sun appears with greatest beauty in his go- ing down ; so at the end of his career, the virtues and graces of a good man's life come beforehim with the most blessed remembrance, and impart a joy which he never felt before, Over all the monuments of life, religion scat- ters her favours, but reserves her best, her choicest,her divinest blessings for the last hour. In the last place, Let me exhort you to this progressive state of virtue, from the pleasant consideration that it has no period. There are limits and boundaries set to all human af- fairs. There is an ultimate point in the pro- gress, beyond which they never go, and from which they return in a contrary direction. The flower blossoms but to fade, and all terrestrial glory shines to disappear. Human life has its decline as well as its maturity ; from a certain period the external Senses begin to decay, and the faculties of the mind to be impaired, till dust returns unto dust, PROGRESSIVE VIRTUE. 171 (ions have their day. States and kingdoms are mortal like their founders. When they have arrived at the zenith of their glory, from that moment they begin to decline ; the bright day is succeeded by a long night of darkness, ignorance, and barbarity. But, in the pro- gress of the mind to intellectual and moral perfection, there is no period set. Beyond these heavens the perfection and happiness of the just is carrying on ; is carrying on, but shall never come to a close. God shall be- hold his creation for ever beautifying in his eyes ; for ever drawing nearer to himself, yet still infinitely distant from the fountain of all goodness. There is not in religion a more joyful and triumphant consideration than this perpetual progress which the soul makes to the perfection of its nature, without ever ar- riving at its ultimate period. Here truth has the advantage of fable. No fiction, however bold, presents to us a conception so elevating and astonishing, as this interminable line of heavenly excellence. To look upon the glo- rified spirit as going on from strength to strength ; adding virtue to virtue, and know- ledge to knowledge ; making approaches to goodness which is infinite ; for ever adornmo- the Heavens with new beauties, and brighten- 172 ON A LIFE OF PROGRESSIVE VIRTUE. ing in the splendours of moral glory through all the ages of eternity, has something in it so transcendent and ineffable, as to satisfy the most unbounded ambition of an immortal spirit. Christian ! does not thy heart glow at the thought, that there is a time marked out in the annals of Heaven, when thou shalt be what the angels now are; when thou shalt shine with that glory in which principalities and powers now appear; and when, in the full communion of the Most High, thou shalt see Him as he is ? The oak, whose top ascends into the heavens, and which covers the mountains with its shade, was once an acorn, contemptible to the sight ; the philosopher, whose views extend from one end of nature to the other, was once a speech- less infant hanging at the breast ; the glorified spirits who now stand nearest to the throne of God, were once like you. To you as to them the heavens are open; the way is marked out; the reward is prepared. On what you do, on what you now do, all depends, SERMON X. ON THE VIRTUE OF MEEKNESS, MATTHEW v. 5. Blessed are the meek, for they shall Inherit the earth. THEY mistake the nature of the Christian re- ligion very much, who consider it as separate and detached from the commerce of the world. Instead of forming a distinct profession, it is intimately connected with life; it respects men as acting in society, and contains regula- tions for their conduct and behaviour in such a state. It takes in the whole of human life, and is intended to influence us when we are in the house, and in the field, as well as when we are in the church or in the closet. It instructs 174 ON MEEKNESS. men in their duty to their neighbours, as well as in their duty to God : It is our companion in the scene of business as well as in the House of Prayer ; and while it inculcates the weight- ier matters of the law, faith, judgment, and mercy, it neglects not the ornament of a meek and quiet spirit, which in the sight of God is of great price. All that refinement which po- lishes the mind ; all that gentleness of man- ners which sweetens the intercourse of human society, which political philosophers consider as the effects of wise legislation and good go- vernment ; all the virtues of domestic life, are lessons which are taught in the Christian school. The wisdom that cometh from above is " gen- " tie." The fruit of the Spirit is " meekness," As the sun, although he regulates the seasons, leads on the year, and dispenses light and life to all the planetary worlds, yet disdains not to raise and to beautify the flower which opens in his beam : so the Christian religion, though chiefly intended to teach us the knowledge of salvation, and be our guide to happiness on high, yet also regulates our conversation in the world, extends its benign influence to the cir- cle of society, and diffuses its blessed fruits in / ' the path of domestic life. In farther treating upon this subject, I shall ON MEEKNESS. 175 in the first place, describe to you the charac- ter of meekness which is here recommended ; and, in the second place, shew you the happi- ness with which it is attended. I am, in the first place, then, to describe to you the cha- racter of meekness which is here recommend- ed Every virtue, whether of natural or reveal- ed religion, is situated between some vices or defects, which, though essentially different, yet bear some resemblance to the virtue they counterfeit ; on account of which resemblance they obtain its name, and impose upon those who labour under the want of discernment. This meekness which is here recommended, is not at all the same with that courtesy of manners which is learned in the school of the world. This is but a superficial accomplish- ment, and often proceeds from a hollowness of heart. It is also quite different from con- stitutional facility, that undeciding state of the mind which easily bends to every propo- sal ; that is a weakness, and not a virtue. Nei- ther does it at all resemble that tame and passive temper which patiently bears insults and submits to injuries ; that is a want of spirit, and argues a cowardly mind. This 176 ON MEEKNESS. meekness is a Christian grace wrought in tis by the Holy Spirit : it is a stream from the fountain of all excellence. A good temper, a good education, and just views of religion, must concur in forming this blessed state of the mind. It becomes a principle which in- fluences the whole life. Though consistent in all its operations with boldness and with spirit, yet its chief characteristics are good- ness, and gentleness, and long-suffering. It looks with candour upon all ; often condes- cends to the prejudices of the weak, and often forgives the errors of the foolish. But to give you a more particular view of it, we may place it in three capital lights, as it respects our general behaviour, our con- duct to our enemies, and our conduct to our friends. With respect to his general behaviour, the meek man looks upon all his neighbours with a candid eye. The two great maxims on which he proceeds, are, not to give offence, and not to take offence. He enters not with the keenness of passion into the contentions of violent men : he keeps aloof from the con- tagion of party-madness, and' feels not the little passions which agitate little minds. He wishes, and he studies to allay the angry pas- ON MEEKNESS. 177 sions which agitate little minds. He wishes, and he studies to allay the angry passions of the contending ; to moderate the fierceness of the implacable ; to reconcile his neighbours to one another ; and, as far as lies in his power, to make all mankind one great family of friends. He will not indeed descend one step from the dignity of his character ; nor will he sacrifice the dictates of his own conscience to any consideration whatever. But those points of obstinacy, which the world are apt to call points of honour, he will freely and cheer- fully give up for the good of society. He loves to live in peace with all mankind, but this desire, too, has its limits. He will keep no terms with those who keep no terms with virtue. A villain, of whatever station, of whatever religious profession, he detests as an abomination. Thus you see that though soft- ness, and gentleness, and forbearance, and long-suffering are the chief characteristics of this virtue, yet, at the same time, it is very consistent with exertions of spirit. When it acts, it acts with vigour and decision. Moses, who has the testimony of the Divine Spirit, that he was the meekest man upon the face of the earth, yet when occasion presented itself, felt the influence of an elevated temper, and VOL. i. M 178 OX MEEKNESS. slew the Egyptian who was wounding his countryman. A meeker than Moses, even our Lord himself, though gentle and benefi- cent to all the sons of men, yet when the worldly-minded Jews profaned the temple, he was moved with just indignation, and drove the impious from the House of God. No- thing is often more calm and serene than the face of the heavens ; but when guilt provokes the vengeance of the Most High, forth comes the thunder to blast the devoted head. Such is the influence of meekness on our general behaviour. It ought also to regulate our conduct to our enemies. There is no principle which more strongly operates in hu- man nature than the law of retaliation. This ap- pears from the laws of all nations in the early state, which always ordained a pimishmentsimi- lar to the offence; eye for eye, tooth for tooth, and life for life. This appears also from our own feelings ; when an injury is done us, we naturally long for revenge. Our heart tells us, that the person offending ought to suf- fer for the offence, and that the hand of him who was injured must return the blow. Such are the dictates of the natural temper. But pursue this principle to its full extent, and you will see where it will end. One ON MEEKNESS. ]?9 man commits an action which is injuri- ous to you ; you feel yourself aggrieved, and seek revenge. If you then retaliate upon him, he thinks he has received a new injury, which he also seeks to revenge ; and thus a foundation is laid for reciprocal animosities without end. Did this principle and this practice become general, the earth would be a field of battle, life would be a scene of bloodshed, and hostilities would be immortal. Legislative wisdom hath provided a remedy for these disorders, and for this havoc which would be made of the human species. The right of private vengeance, which every man is born with, by common consent, and for the public good, is resigned into the hands of the civil magistrate, But there are many things which come not under the jurisdiction of the laws, and the cognisance of the magistrate, which tend to disturb the public peace, and set mankind at variance. Private animosities and little quarrels often rise, which might be productive of great disorder and detriment to society. Here, therefore, where legislative wisdom fails, religion steps in and checks the desire of vengeance, by enjoining that meek- ness of spirit which disposes not to retaliate but to forgive. He, therefore, who possesses M2 180 ON MEEKNESS, this spirit, will not answer a fool according to his folly. He will not depart from his usual maxims of conduct, because another has be- haved improperly. Because his neighbour has been guilty of one piece of folly, he will not reckon that an inducement for him to be guilty of another. He will regulate his con- duct by that standard of virtue which is with- in, and not by the behaviour of those around him. Accordingly, instead of harbouring ani- mosities against those who have done him ill offices, he will be disposed to return good for evil : remembering that our Lord adds at the conclusion of this chapter, " I say unto you, u love your enemies, that ye may be the chil- " dren of your Father which is in Heaven ; " for he maketh the sun to rise on the evil " and on the good, and sendeth rain on the "just and on the unjust." This meekness ought also to appear in our conduct towards our friends. In the pre- sent state of things, where human nature is so frail, where the very best have their weak side, and where so many events happen, which give occasion to the passions of men to shew themselves, there is great scope for the exercise of meekness and moderation. The faults of mankind, in general, present a most ON MEEKNESS. 181 unpleasant spectacle ; but the failings of those we love, of those on whom we have conferred obligations, are apt to fill us with disgust and aversion. If it had been an enemy who had done this, I could have borne it. I would have expected no better; but thou, O my familiar friend, how shall I forgive thee ? Such, at the time, is the language of nature. But better views, and more mature reflection, will teach us to throw a veil over those infirmities which are inseparable from the best natures, and to frame an excuse for those errors, which pro- ceed not from a bad heart In all these instances of meekness, Jesus of Nazareth left us an example, that we should follow his steps. In his general behaviour, he was meek and lowly, and condescending. He went about doing good, and received testi- mony from his enemies, that " he did all " things well." To the errors of his friends he was mild and gentle. When, moved by false zeal, in which they are still followed by many, who have the assurance to call them- selves his disciples, they besought him to cause fire to descend from heaven, and consume a city, which believed not in his doctrines ; all the rebuke he administered was, " Ye know *f not what manner of spirit ye are of; the 182 ON MEEKNESS, " Son of Man came not to destroy men's " lives, but to save them." When he suffer- ed his agony in the garden, in the hour and in the power of darkness, when he besought his disciples to watch with him in this dread- ful scene, and when, instead of giving him comfort, they sunk unconcerned into sleep ; instead of reproving them with severity, as their conduct deserved, he himself sought for an excuse for them ; " The spirit indeed is " willing, but the flesh is weak." Though he was the friend of all mankind, yet he had enemies who sought his life. " I have done," said he, " many good deeds among you, for " which of these do you stone me ?" And when, after persecuting him in his life, they brought him to the accursed death of the cross, his last words were, " Father forgive " them, for they know not what they do." Go thou ! and do likewise. The second thing proposed was, to shew the happiness annexed to this character, ex- pressed here by " inheriting the earth." The meek are not indeed always to be great and opulent. Happiness, God be praised, is not annexed, and is not confined, to the superior stations of life. There is a great difference ON MEEKNESS. 183 between possessing the good things of life and enjoying them. Whatever be his rank in life, the meek man bids the fairest chance for en- joying its advantages. A proud and passion- ate man puts his happiness in the power of every fool he meets with. A failure in duty or affection from a friend, want of respect from a dependent, and a thousand little cir- cumstances, which a candid man would over- look, disturb his repose. He is perpetually on the fret, and his life is one scene of anxiety after another. On the other hand, the meek is not disturbed by the transactions of this scene of vanity. He is disposed to be pleaed at all events. Instead of repining at the suc- cess of those around him, he rejoices in their prosperity, and is thus happy in the happiness of all his neighbours. Such are the blessed effects of meekness on the character. This beam from heaven kindles joy within the mind : it spreads a serenity over the coun- tenance, and diffuses a kind of sunshine over the whole life. It puts us out of the power of accidents. It keeps the world at a due distance. It is armour to the mind, and keeps off the arrows of wrath. It preserves a sanc- tuary within, calm and holy, which nothing can disturb. Safe and happy in this asylum, 184 ON MEEKNESS. you smile at the madness of the multitude. You hear the tempest raging around, and spending its strength in vain. As this virtue contributes to our happiness here, so it is also the best preparation for the happiness which is above. It is the very temper of the heavens. It is the disposition of the saints in light, and angels in glory ; of that blessed society of friends who rejoice in the presence of God, and who, in mutual love, and joint hosannahs of praise, enjoy the ages of eternity. To conclude ; There is hardly a duty enjoin- ed in the whole book of God, on which more stress seems often to be laid, than this virtue of meekness. " The Lord loveth the meek. <4 The meek will he beautify with his salva- 66 tion. He arises to save the meek of the " earth." Christ was sent to preach * glad ' 4 tidings to the meek." Upon this our Lord rests his own character. " Learn of me, for 46 I am meek." In the epistles of Paul, there is a remarkable expression ; " I beseech you by " the meekness and the gentleness of Christ." The Holy Ghost, too, is called the Spirit of " Meekness." Implore, then, O Christian ! the assistance of the Divine Spirit, that he may endow you with this virtue, and that you in ay shew in your life the meekness of wisdom* SERMON XL ON CHARITY. ISAIAH Iviii. 7. Deal thy bread to the hungry: hide not thy- self from thine own fiesli. WHY there are so many evils in the world, is a question that has been agitated ever since men felt them. As God is possessed of all perfections, he could have created the universe without evil. To him, revolving the plan of his creation, every benevolent system present- ed itself; how came it then to pass, that a Be- ing, neither controlled in power, nor limited in wisdom, nor deficient in goodness, should create a world in which many evils are to be found, and much suffering to be endured? 185 ON CHARITY. It becomes not us, with too presumptuous a curiosity, to assign the causes of the Divine conduct, or with too daring a hand, to draw aside the veil which covers the councils of the Almighty. But from this state of things we see many good effects arise. That industry, which keeps the world in motion ; that socie- ty which, by mutual wants, cements mankind together ; and that charity, which is the bond of perfection, would neither have a place nor a name, but for the evils of human life. Thus, the enjoyments of life are grafted upon its wants ; from natural evil arises moral good, and the sufferings of some contribute to the happiness of all. Such being the state of hu- man affairs, charity, or that disposition which leads us to supply the wants, and alleviate the sufferings of unhappy men, as well as bear with their infirmities, must be a duty of capi- tal importance. Accordingly, it is enjoined in our holy religion, as being the chief of the virtues. There is no duty commanded in Scripture, on which so much stress is laid, as on the duty of charity. It is assigned as the test and criterion, by which we are to distin*. guish the disciples of Jesus, and it will be se- lected at the great day, as being that part oi the character which is most decisive of the ON CHARITY. 18? life, and according to which the last sentence is to turn. Charity, in its most comprehen- sive sense, signifies that disposition of mind, which, from a regard and gratitude to God, leads us to do all the good in our power to man. Thus, it takes in a large circle, extend- ing to all the virtues of the social, and many graces of the divine life. But as this would lead us into a wide field, all that I intend at present is to consider that branch of charity which is called Alms-giving; and, in treating upon it, shall, in the first place, shew you how alms ought to be bestowed ; and, secondly, give exhortations to the practice of this duty. The first thing proposed was, to shew you what is the most proper method of bestowing charity. This inquiry is the more necessary, as, in the neighbourhood of great cities, we are always surrounded by the needy and im- portunate, and it is often difficult to distin- guish those who are proper objects of charity from those who are not. The best method of bestowing charity upon the healthy and the strong, is to give them employment. Almighty God created us all for industry and action. He never intended that any man upon the face of the earth should 188 ON CHARITY. be idle. Accordingly, he hath placed us in a state which abounds with incentives to indus- try, and in which we must be active, in order to live. One half of the vices of men take their origin from idleness. He who has no- thing to do is an easy prey to the tempter. Men must have occupation of one kind or other. If they are not employed in useful and beneficial labours, they will engage in those which are pernicious and criminal. To support the indolent, therefore, to keep those idle who are able to work, is acting contrary to the intention of God : is doing an injury to society, which claims a right to the services of all its members; is defrauding real objects of charity of that which is their proper due, and is fostering a race of sluggards to prey upon the vitals of a state. But he is a valu- able member of society, and merits well of mankind, who, by devising means of em- ployment for the industrious, delivers the pub- lic from an useless encumbrance, and makes those, who otherwise would be the pests of society, useful subjects of the commonwealth. If it be merit, and no small merit it is, to improve the face of a country'; to turn the desert into a fruitful field, and make the bar- ren wastes break forth into singing ; it is much ON CHARITY. 189 more meritorious to cultivate the deserts in the moral world ; to render those, who might be otherwise pernicious members of society, happy themselves, and beneficial to the state ; to convert the talent that was wrapt up in a nap- kin, into a public use ; and by opening a new source of industry, make life and health to circulate through the whole political body. Such a person is a true patriot, and does more good to mankind than all the heroes and man- destroyers who fill the annals of history. The fame of the one is founded upon the numbers that he has slain ; the glory of the other rises from the numbers that he preserves and makes happy. Another act of charity, of equal importance, is to supply the wants of the really indigent and necessitous. If the industrious, with all their efforts, are not able to earn a competent livelihood ; if the produce of their labour be not proportionable to the demands of a nu- merous family ; then they are proper objects of your charity. Nor can there be conceived a more pitiable case, than that of those whose daily labour, after the utmost that they can do, will not procure daily bread for themselves and their household. To consider a parent who has toiled the livelong day in hardship, 190 ON CHARITY. who yet at night, instead of finding rest, shall find a pain more unsupportable than all his fatigues abroad, the cravings of a numerous and a helpless family, which he cannot satis- fy ; this is sufficient to give the most lively touches of compassion to every heart that is not past feeling. Nor can there be an exer- cise of charity better judged, than administer- ing to the wants of those who are at the same time industrious and indigent. Another class of men that demand our charity, is the aged and feeble, who, after a life of hard labour, after being worn out with the cares and business of life, are grown unfit for further business, and who add poverty to the other miseries of old age. What can be more worthy of us, than thus to contribute to their happiness, who have been k once useful, and are still willing to be so ; to allow them not to feel the want of those enjoyments, which they are not now able to procure ; to be a staff to their declining days ; to smooth the furrows in the faded cheek, and to make the winter of old age wear the aspect of spring ? Children also bereft of their parents, orphans cast upon the care of Providence, are signal objects of compassion. To act the part of a father to those upon whose helpless years no ON CHARITY. 191 parent of their own ever smiled ; to rear up the plant that was left alone'to perish in the storm j to fence the tender blossom against the early blasts of vice ; to watch and superintend its growth, till it flourishes and brings forth fruit : this is a noble and beneficial employment* well adapted to a generous mind. What can be more delightful than this, to train up the young to happiness and virtue ; to conduct them, with a safe but gentle hand, through the dangerous stages of infancy and youth ; to give them, at an age when their minds are most susceptible of good impressions, early notices of religion, and render them useful members of society, who, if turned adrift, and left defenceless, would, without the extraor- dinary grace of God, become a burden and a nuisance to the world. But there is a class of the unfortunate not yet mentioned, who are the greatest objects of all, those who, after having been accus- omed to ease and plenty, are, by some una- voidable reverse of fortune, by no fault or folly of theirs, condemned to bear, what they are least able to bear, the galling load of po- verty ; who fl after having been perhaps fathers to the fatherless, in the day of their prosperi- ty, are now become the objects of that charity 192 ON CHARITY. which they were wont liberally to dispense. These persons plead the more strongly for our relief, because they are least able to re- veal their misery, and make their wants known. Let these, therefore, in a peculiar manner, partake the bounty of the liberal and open hand. Let your goodness descend to them in secret, and, like the Providence of Heaven, conceal the hand which sends them relief, that their blushes may be spared, while their wants are supplied. Concerning one class of the indigent, va- grants and common beggars, I have hitherto said nothing. About these your own obser- vation and experience will enable you to judge. Some of them are real and deserving objects of your compassion. Of others, the greatest want is the want of industry and virtue. The second thing proposed was, to give ex- hortations to the practice of this duty. This duty is so agreeable to the common notions of mankind, that every one condemns the mean and sordid spirit of that wretch whorr God has blessed with abundance, and conse- quently with the power of blessing others and who is yet relentless to the cries of the OK CHARITY. 193 jpoor and miserable. We look with contempt and abhorrence upon a man who is ever a- massing riches, and never bestowing them ; as greedy as the sea, and yet as barren as the shore. Numbers, it is true, think they have done enough in declaiming against the prac- tice of such persons ; for upon the great and the opulent they think the whole burden of this duty ought to rest ; but for themselves, being somewhat of a lower class, they desire to be excused. Their circumstances, they say, are but just easy, to answer the demands of their family, and, therefore, they plead in- ability, and expect to be exempted from the performance of this duty. Before this excuse will be of any avail, it behoves them to con- sider whether they do not indulge themselves in expences unsuitable to their rank and con- dition. Imaginary wants are boundless, and charity will never begin, if it be postponed till these have an end. Every man, whether rich or poor, is concerned in this duty, in propor- tion to his circumstances : and he that has little, is as strictly bound to give something out of that little, as he that hath more is obliged to give more. What advantage was it to the poor widow, that she, by giving her one mite into the treasury, could exercise a VOL, i, N 191 ON ? CHARITY. nobler charity than all the rich had done? The smallest gift may be the greatest bounty. The practice of this duty, therefore, is in- cumbent upon all. To the performance of it you are drawn by that pity and compassion which are implanted in the heart. Compas- sion is the call of our Father in heaven to us his children, to put us upon relieving our bre- thren in distress. This is an affection wisely interwoven in our frame by the Author of our nature, that whereas abstracted reason is too sedentary and remiss a counsellor, we might have a more instant and vigorous pleader in our breasts, to excite us to acts of charity. As far, indeed, as it is ingrafted in us, it is mere instinct ; but when we cultivate and cherish it, till we love mercy, when we dwell upon every tender sentiment that opens our mind, and enlarges our heart, then it becomes a virtue. Whosoever ,'thou art whose heart is hardened and waxed gross, put thyself in the room of some poor unfriended wretch, beset perhaps with a large family, broken with mis- fortunes, and pining with poverty, whilst silent grief preys upon his vitals ; in such a case what wouldst thou think it reasonable thy rich neighbours should do? That, like the Priest and the Levite, they should look with ON CHARITY. 195 an eye of indifference, and pass by on the other side ; or, like the good Samaritan, pour balm into thy wounded mind? Be thyself the judge ! and whatever thou thinkest reason- able thy neighbours should do to thee, go thou and do likewise unto them. Consider next the pleasure derived from be- nevolence. Mean and illiberal is the man whose soul the good of himself can entirely engross. True benevolence, extensive as the light of the sun, takes in all mankind. It is not indeed in your power to support all the indi- gent, incurable, and aged ; it is not in your power to train up in the paths of virtue many friendless and fatherless children : but if, as far as the compass of your power reaches, no- thing is deprived of the influence of your bounty, and where your power falls short, you are cordially affected to see good works done by others ; those charities which you could not do, will be placed to your account. To grasp thus the whole system of reasonable beings, with an overflowing love, is to pos- sess the greatest of all earthly enjoyments, is to make approaches to the happiness of higher natures, and anticipate the joy of the world to come. For it is impossible that the man who, actuated by a principle of obedience to 19G Ott CHARITY. his Creator, has cherished each generous and liberal movement of the soul, with a head ever studious to contrive, a heart ever willing to promote, and hands ever ready to distri- bute to the good of his fellow-creatures, should notwithstanding be doomed to be an associate for ever with accursed spirits, in a place where benevolence never shed its kindly beams, but malice and anguish, and blackness of dark- ness, reign for ever and ever. No, the riches which we have given away will abide with us for ever. The same habit of love will accom- pany us to another world. The bud which hath opened here will blow into full expan- sion above, and beautify the paradise in the heavens* SERMON XII. ON THE DANGER OF SMALL TRANSGRESSIONS, MATTHEW v. 19, Whosoever, therefore, shall break one of these least commandments, and shall teach men so, he shall be called the least in the kingdom of heaven. THE Roman Catholics divide sins into two classes, the venial and the mortal. In the first class, they include those slight offences which, as they say, are too inconsiderable to offend the Deity ; and, in the second, those great and aggravated transgressions which expose men to the Divine vengeance in the world to come. Although this distinction, which over- throws the law of morality, is abjured by all 198 ON THE DANGER OF Protestants, yet something like it is still re- tained by great numbers of men. What the Papists call venial sins, they call sins of infir- mity, human failings, imperfections insepar- able from men. And their own favourite vices, whatever they be, they call by these names. Cruel is the condition of the human kind, say they, and rigorous the spirit of the Christian law, if we are to lie under such terrible restric- tions ; if breaking one of the least command- ments shall exclude us from the kingdom of God. Will the Great Creator be offended by a few trivial transgressions ; with little liber- ties, which serve only for amusement? If others take a general toleration, shall we not have an indulgence at particular times ? If we are pro- hibited from turning back in the paths of vir- tue, may we not make a random excursion ? If we are not allowed to taste the fruits, may we not at least crop the blossoms of the forbidden tree? While the waters of pleasure flow so near, and look so tempting, shall we not be permitted to taste and live? Will the Great Judge of the world condemn us to eternal punishment, for the indulgence of a wander- ing inclination, for the gratification of a sud- den appetite, for a look, a word, or a thought ? As this is the apology of vice, which at one SMALL TRANSGRESSIONS. 199 time or another, all of you make to yourselves, I shall now shew you the dangerous nature and fatal tendency of those offences you call little sins. And in entering upon the subject, Christians, I must observe to you, that the at- tempt to join together the joys of religion, and the pleasures of sin, is altogether impracti- cable. The Divine law regulates the enjoy- ments as well as the business of life. You are never to forget one moment that you are Chris- tians. The joys which you are allowed to par- take of, are in the train of virtue. While you are pilgrims in the wilderness, if you return to Egypt again, you forfeit your title to the pro- mised land. You have left the dominions of sin, you have come into another kingdom ; and if now you revolt to the foe, you are guilty of treason, and may expect to meet with the punishment which treason deserves. How shall we distinguish then, you say, between the sins of infirmity, into which the best may fall, and the violation of those least command- ments which exclude from the kingdom of God ? I answer, the text makes the distinc- tion. Sins of infirmity proceed from frailty and surprise. The temptation comes upon men unexpected ; the foe meets them un- prepared ; and, in such cases, the most cir- 200 ON THE DANGER OF eumspect must be off their guard, and the best natures may fall. But those sins which exclude from the kingdom of God, are from deliberation and full consent of the mind. The persons who commit them, as the ^ext says, " teach men so ;" that is, they justify themselves in what they do, and sin upon a plan. Their evil intentions are not occasional and transient, but permanent and governing; they sleep and wake upon their bad designs, and carry them along in their going out and coming in ; and thus forming evil habits, make their lives a system of iniquity. Who- ever does so, though it be only in the viola- tion of what he reckons the least command- ment, shall be called least in the kingdom of heaven ; that is, shall be excluded altogether from it. It is proposed, at this time, to set before you the evil nature and dangerous tendency of the least transgressions. And, in the Jirst place, it may be observed, that it is a series of little actions that marks the characters of men. Human life is not composed of great events, but of minute occurrences ; and it is not from a man's extraordinary exertions, but from his ordinary conduct, that we form our judgment of his character. When a great SMALL TRANSGRESSIONS. 201 event is transacting, a man is on his guard ; he is prepared to act his part well, and often, on such occasions, in the hour of exhibition, he appears to the world a different person from what he really is. But in the series of little actions, in the detail of ordinary life, the turn of mind discovers itself, the temper unfolds, the character appears. It is then, when a man is himself, the mask falls of, and the true countenance is displayed. Human life, then, being a circle of petty transactions, and the temper of menbeing known from their conduct in little aifairs, our character for virtue will de- pend on our performance of what the world calls the least of the commandments. This is not peculiar to virtue. What is it that constitutes the happiness of domestic life ? Not the sin- gular and uncommon situations, but the fa- miliar and the ordinary ; not the striking c- vents that fly abroad in the mouths of the people, but the daily round of little things which are never mentioned. A miser may have a feast 5 and be a miser still ; he only is a happy man who has his enjoyments every day. With very great talents, and without any re- markable vice, a man may become a most dis- agreeable member of society, by his neglect of the attentions and civilities and decorum of 202 ON THE DANGEIl OF life. In like manner, without being guilty of any enormous sin, by the habitual neglect of inferior duties, and by the practice of little of- fences, a man may sin unto death. A good life is one of those pictures whose perfection arises from the nice and the mi- nute strokes. It is not one blazing star, but the host of lesser lights, which forms the beauty of the heavens. In like manner, how does the Great Judge at the last day decide the fate, and determine the characters, of men ? You reckon sins of omission but little sins, yet, on account of these, the sentence of everlasting condemnation is passed. Be- cause ye gave no bread to the hungry, no wa- ter to the thirsty, and no raiment to the na- ked, relieved not the oppressed, and visited not the prisoner, therefore, " depart into ever- " lasting fire, prepared for the devil and his " angels." In like manner, he determines the character of the righteous, not from the striking and splendid virtues which they exhi- bited to the world, but from the performance of the inferior duties of daily life : " Come, " ye blessed of my father, inherit the king- " dom prepared for you from the foundation " of the world." Why ? Is it for the splen- did works of piety, for building temples to I SMALL TUAXSGRKSSIOXS. 203 (he Deity, or dying as martyrs to the Chris- tian faith ? No. Men may buiid temples, without love to the Deity ; they may die as martyrs, without real religion ; but because ye have given food to the hungry, drink to the thirsty, and raiment to the naked; actions of life in which ye must have been sincere, be- cause ye never expected that such actions would be heard of, and the practice of them grew so much into habit, that ye scarcely thought it a virtue to perform them. Secondly, These little sins attack the au- thority of the Divine Legislator as much, or perhaps more, than great sins. Evil thoughts are as expressly prohibited in the Divine law as evil deeds. The same God who says, thou shalt noc kill, says also, thou shall not hate thy brother in thy heart. What sentiment must -you entertain of the Majesty in the Heavens, when his command cannot restrain you from the commission of the least sin ? Hath not God forbidden the impure desire and the malicious intention, as well as adultery and murder? And is it not as much his will that he should be obeyed in those command- ments as in these ? Have you a dispensation granted you to take the name of God in vain 201 ON THE DANGER OF in common conversation, any more than you have to swear falsely before a civil magistrate ? Have you more liberty allowed you to wound your neighbour's character than you have to shed his blood ? No ; the prohibition ex- tends to the one as well as to the other. The same authority that forbids the action, forbids the desire. The same law which says, thou shalt not steal, says also, thou shalt not covet. But you say, that the indulgences you plead for, are with regard to things in their own na- ture indifferent. Alas ! if you had proper ideas of a God possessed of infinite perfec- tion, nothing that he commands or forbids would appear indifferent. To you it may ap- pear a matter of little moment or concern, what the strain of your thoughts is, or how the tenor of your conversation runs ; but when you learn that your thoughts are known in heaven, and that by your words you shall be justified or condemned, these assume a more serious form, and become of infinite impor- tance. But if the things for which you beg an indulgence are in their own nature small, why do you not abstain irom them ? If the prophet had commanded you a great thing, you might have murmured against the pre- cept ; but when he only enjoins what you SMALL TRANSGRESSIONS. 205 yourselves reckon a little thing, what pre- tence have you for a complaint ? In place of being an excuse, this is an aggravation of your offence. With your own mouth you condemn yourself. Can there be a stronger proof of a degenerate nature and a stub- born mind, than this inclination to disobey your Creator, in things that you reckon of little consequence ? What can shew a heart hardened against God, and set against the Heavens, so much as this refractory and re- bellious disposition, which leads men to violate the majesty of the law, to insult the authori- ty of the Lawgiver, to risk the vengeance of the Omnipotent, and to pour contempt on all the perfections of the Divine nature, ra- ther than part with what they themselves reckon small and inconsiderable. In the third place, You may contract as much guilt by breaking the least of the com- mandments, as by breaking the greatest of them. You start back and are affrighted at the approach of great iniquity ; the heart re- rolts from a temptation to flagrant sins ; yet thousands of lesser sins, evil thoughts, malici- ous words, petty oaths, commodious lies, little deceits, you make no scruple to commit every 206 ON THE DAXGEtt OF day. But the guilt of such reiterated sins is as great, or greater, than that of any single sin. To hate your neighbour in your heart without cause, to take every opportunity of blasting his character, and defeating his de- igns ? makes you as guilty in the Divine eye, as if you had imbrued your hands in his blood. To use false weights, and a deceitful balance, is as criminal as a direct act of theft. He who defrauds his neighbours daily in the course of his business, is a greater sinner be- fore God, and a worse member of society, than he who once in his life robs on the high- way. The frequency of these little sins makes the guilt great, and the danger extreme. The constant operation of evil deeds impairs the strength of the soul, and shakes the founda- tion on which virtue rests. Wave succeed- ing wave undermines the whole fabric of vir- tue, and makes the building of God to fall. The thorns, which at first could scarcely be seen, spread by degrees over the field, and choke the good seed. The locusts which Moses brought over the land of Egypt, ap- peared at first a contemptible multitude ; but in a little time like a cloud they darkened the air ; as a mighty army, they covered the face of the earth ; they devoured the herb of the SMALL TRANSGRESSIONS. 207 field, the fruit of the tree, and every green thing, and turned what was formerly like the garden of Eden into a desolate wilderness. Thus these little sins increase as they advance; they blast where they enter ; by degrees they make the spiritual life decay; they lay waste the new creation, and turn the intellectual world into a chaos, without form, and void of order. And yet we are not on our guard against them. It fareth with us as it did with the Israelites of old. We tremble more at one Goliah than at the whole army of the Philistines. One gross scandalous sin makes us recoil and start back ; and yet we venture on the guilt of numberless smaller sins, with- out hesitation or remorse. What signifies it whether you die of many small wounds, or by one great wound ! What great difference does it make, whether the devouring fire and the everlasting burnings are kindled by many sparks, or by one fire-brand? When God shall reckon up against you at the great day the many thousand malicious thoughts, slan- derous words, deceits, oaths, imprecations, lies, that you have been guilty of, the account will be as dreadful, and the wrath as insup- portable, as if atrocious crimes had stood upon the list. 208 ON THE DANGER OF In the fourth place, These little offences make life a chain and a continuation of sins^ so that conversion becomes almost impos- sible. Often, upon the commission of a gross sin, a sober interval succeeds ; serious reflec- tion has its hour ; sorrow and contrition of heart take their turn ; then is the crisis of a man's character; and many, improving this favourable opportunity, have risen greater from their fall. But if these little sins then come in ; if between the commission of one gross sin and another, there intervenes a constant neglect of God, a hardness of heart, a vanity of imagination, and unfruitfulness of life, you still add to the number of your sins, and trea- sure up to yourselves wrath against the day of wrath. Such little sins fill up all the void spaces ; so that, by this means, life becomes an uninterrupted and unbroken chain of ini- quity. Thus you render yourselves incapable of reformation, and put yourselves out of the power of Divine grace.' How is it possible that you can ever come within the reach of mercy ? How can the voice of God reach your heart? He speaks to you in the majestic si- lence of his works ; but you reckon it no sin at all to shut your ears against t3ie voice which comes from heaven to earth, and reaches from SMALL TRANSGRESSIONS. 209 one end of the world to the other. He speaks to you by the voice of his providence ; but you reckon it of little moment to regard the doings of the Lord. He speaks to you in the Holy Scriptures ; but you reckon the precept to read these one of the least commandments. He speaks to you in the ordinances of his own institution ; but alas ! how many hold it a little sin to absent themselves from these altogether ! And how many of those who attend, think it but a little sin to spend their time as unpro- fitably as if absent ! He speaks to you with the still smaJl voice ; his Spirit whispers to your spirit ; he seeks to enter in by your thoughts : but vanity, and folly, and vice, swarms of little sins, stop up the passage. Thus every corner of life is filled up. Every avenue to the heart is shut. You nowhere lie open to the im- pression of Divine grace, and the soul is so full, that there is no room for the Holy Spirit to enter, In the last place, These lesser sins infal- libly lead to greater. There is a fatal pro- gress in vice. One sin naturally leads to an- other : the first step leads to the second, till by degrees, you come to the bottom of the precipice. Deceit, duplicity, dissimulation, VOL, i, o 210 ON THE DANGER OF in different matters, which many persons, who maintain what is called a decent character, make no scruple to employ, have a tendency to render you insincere on more important occasions, and may gradually destroy your character of integrity altogether. He who tells falsehoods for his own conveniency, will, in the natural course of things, become a com- mon liar. The spirit of gaming perhaps you reckon a small sin. When gaming is only an amuse- ment, it is innocent ; but whenever it goes farther, whenever it is made a serious busi- ness, and the love of it becomes a passion, farewell to tranquillity and virtue ; then suc- ceed days of vanity, and nights of care ; dis- sipation of life, corruption of manners, inat- tention to domestic affairs, arts of deceit, lying, cursing^ and perjury. At a distance Poverty, with Contempt at her heels, and in the rear of all, Despair, bringing a halter in her hand. Thus have I set before you the evil nature and the dangerous tendency of the least transgressions. And do you ask an indul- gence in little sins, when you see how fatal they are? Do you still ask to make an excur- sion from the path of virtue ? Such an excur- SMALL TRANSGRESSIONS. sion if you make, you will fall in with the road to perdition. Do you still wish to taste the waters which unlawful pleasure presents to your eye ? Taste them you may ; but be assured that there is poison in the stream, and death in the cup. Alas ! if we calmly in- dulge ourselves in the cool commission of the least sin, whoj knows when and where we shall stop ? Tf once we yield to the tempta- tion, in whose power is it to say, Hitherto shall I go, but no further ? Many persons at their first setting out, would have trembled at the very thought of these sins, which in time, and by an easy transition, they have been brought to commit with boldness. The trai- tor consigned to eternal infamy, Judas Isca- riot, who betrayed the Lord of glory, had at first only his covetousness to answer for. Fly, therefore, I beseech you, fly from the first approaches of sin. Guard your inno- cence, as you would guard your life. If you advance one step over the line which sepa- rates the way of life from the way of death, down you sink to the bottomless abyss. Come not then near the territories of perdition* Stand back and survey the torrent which is now so mighty and overflowing, that it de- 2] 2 ON THE DANGER OF SMALL TRANSGRESSIONS. luges the land, and you will find it to proceed from a small contemptible brook. Examine the conflagration that has laid a city in ashes, and you will find it to arise from a single spark. SERMON XIII. ON DELIVERANCE FROM REMORSE, HEBREWS xii, 24. The blood of sprinkling, which speaketh belter things than that of Abel. REASON and philosophy have applied their powers to external objects with wonderful suc- cess. They have traced the order of nature, and explained the elements of things. By observation and experience, they have ascer- tained the laws of the universe ; they have counted the number of the stars ; and, folkr /- ing the footsteps of the Almighty, have dis- covered some of the great lines of that origi- nal plan according to which he created the world. But when they approach the region of 214 ON DELIVERANCE spirit and intelligence, they stop short in their discoveries. The mind eludes its own search. The Author of our nature has checked our ca- reer in such studies, to teach us that action and moral improvement, not speculation and in quiry, are the ends of our being. Accordingly, the mo- ral part of our frame is the easiest understood. Having been placed here by Providence, for great and noble purposes, virtue is the law of our nature. This being the great rule in the moral world, God has enforced it in various ways. He hath endowed us with a sense or faculty which, viewing actions in themselves, without regard to their consequences, approves or disapproves them. He hath endowed us with another sense, which passes sentence upon actions according to their consequences in society. He hath given us a third, which, removing human actions from life, and the world altogether, carries them to a higher tribunal. The first, which is the moral sense, belongs to us as individuals ; is instinctive in all its operations ; approves of virtue as be- ing moral beauty; and disapproves of vice as being moral deformity. The second, which is the sense of utility, belongs to us as mem- bers of society, is directed in its operations by reason, and passes sentence upon actions ac* FROM REMORSE. 215 according as they are favourable or pernicious to the public good. The third, which is con- science, belongs to us as subjects of the Divine government, is directed in its operations by the word of God, and considers human ac- tions as connected with a future state of re- wards and punishments. It is this which properly belongs to religion. Upon this fa- culty of conscience, the happiness or misery of mankind in a great measure depends. A good conscience is a continual feast, and proves a spring of joy amidst the greatest distresses. A conscience troubled with remorse, or haunt- ed with fear, is the greatest of all human evils. Accordingly, the Christian religion, which adapts itself to every state of our nature, and carries consolation to the mind in every dis- tress, has presented to the weary and heavy laden sinner, " the blood of sprinkling, which " speaketh better things than the blood of " Abel." The meaning of which expression is this: As the blood of Abel, crying to Heaven for vengeance, filled the mind of Cain with horror, and as every sin is attended with remorse ; so the blood of Jesus is of power to deliver the mind from this remorse, and re- store peace of conscience to the true penitent. In further treating upon this subject, I shall 216 ON DELIVERANCE describe to you the nature of that remorse which is the companion of a guilty mind ; and next, the deliverance which the Gospel gives us from it, by means of the blood of sprink- 6 ling." In thejirst place, then, let us consi- der the nature of that remorse which is the companion of a guilty mind. Almighty God having created man after his own image, intended him for moral excellence 3nd perfection. Hence all his passions were originally set on the side of virtue, and all his faculties tended to heaven. Conscience is still the least corrupted of all the powers of the soul. It keeps a faithful register of our deeds, and passes impartial sentence upon them. It is appointed the judge of human life ; is invested with authority and dominion over the whole man, and is armed with stings to punish the guilty. These are the sanctions and enforcements of that eternal law to which we are subjected. For even in our present fallen state, we are so framed by the Author of our nature, that moral evil can no more be committed than natural evil can be suffered, without anguish *md disquiet. As pain fol- lows the infliction of a wound, as certainly doth remorse attend the commission of sin* FROM REMORSE. 217 Conscience may be lulled asleep for a while, but it will one day vindicate its rights. It will seize the sinner in an hour when he is not aware ; will blast him perhaps in the midst of his mirth, and put him to the torture of an accusing mind. For the truth of this obser- vation, let me appeal to your own experience. Did you ever indulge a criminal passion ; did you ever allow yourselves in any practice which you knew to be unlawful, without feeling an inward struggle and strong reluctance of mind before the attempt, and bitter pangs of re- morse after the commission ? Though no eye saw what you did ; though you were sure that no mortal could discover it, did not shame and confusion secretly lay hold of you ? Was not your own conscience instead of a thousand witnesses ? Did it not plead with you, face to face, and upbraid you for your transgressions? Have not some of you perhaps, at this instant, a sensible experience of the truths which lam now pressing upon you ? In these days of re- tirement and self-examination, did you not feel the operation of that powerful principle ? Did not your sins then rise up before you in sad remembrance? Has not the image of them pursued you into the house of God? And arc not your minds now stung with some of 218 ON DELIVERANCE that regret which followed upon the first com- mission ? My brethren, there is no escaping from a guilty mind. You can avoid some evils, by mingling in society ; you can avoid others, by retiring into solitude ; but this enemy, this tormentor within, is never to be avoided. If thou retirest into solitude, it will meet thee there, and haunt thee like a ghost. If thou goest into society, it will go with thee ; it will mar the entertainment, and dash the untasted cup from thy trembling hand. Whilst the sinner indulges his yam imagination ; whilst he solaces himself with, the prospect of pleasures rising upon plea- sures never to have an end, and says to his soul, Be of good cheer, thou hast happiness laid up for many years, a voice comes to his heart that strikes him with sudden fear, and turns the vision of joy into a scene of horror. Whilst the proud and impious Balshazzar en- joys the feast with his princes, his concubines, and his wives ; whilst he carouses in the con- secrated vessels of the sanctuary ; in a mo- ment the scene changes ; the hand-writing on the wall turns the house of mirth into a house of mourning ; the countenance of the king changes, and his knees smite one against ano- FROM REMORSE. 219 ther, whilst the Prophet, in awful accents, pronounces his doom ; pronounces that his hour is come, and that his kingdom is departed from him. It is in adversity that the pangs of con- science are most severely felt. When afflic- tion humbles the native pride of the heart, and gives a man leisure to reflect upon his former ways, his past life rises up to view : having now no interest in the sins which he committed, they appear in all their native de- formity, and fill his mind with anguish and remorse. Men date their misfortunes from their faults, and acknowledge their sin when they meet with the punishment. The sons of Jacob felt no remorse when thev sold their P brother to be a slave; they had delivered themselves from the foolish fear that he was one day to be greater than they ; they con- gratulated themselves upon the mighty deli- verance. But the very first misfortune which befel them, a little rough usage in a foreign land, awakened their guilty fears, and they said one to another, " We are very guilty " concerning our brother, in that we saw " the anguish of his soul when he besought " us, and we would not hear, therefore is this [* distress come upon us." 220 ON DELIVERANCE But that the prosperous sinner may not presume upon impunity from the lashes of a guilty mind, and to shew you that no situa- tion, however exempted from adversity, and that no station, however exalted, is proof against the horrors of remorse, I shall adduce two remarkable instances of persons who felt all the horrors of a guilty mind, without meet- ing with any judgments to awaken them. The first is that of Cain, referred to in the text When the offering of Abel ascended acceptable and well-pleasing to God, Cain was seized with envy ; from that moment he meditated vengeance against him, and at last imbrued his hands in the blood of his brother. There was then no law against murder : and if antecedent to law there is no original sense of right and wrong implanted in the mind; if conscience, as some affirm, was not a na- tural but an acquired power, the mind of Cain might have been at ease ; he might have en- joyed the calm and the serenity of innocence. But when he was brought to the tribunal of conscience, was his mind at ease ? Did he en- joy the calm and the serenity of innocence? No. He cried out in the bitterness of re- morse, " My punishment is greater than I can bear." What punishment did he complain FROM REMORSE. 221 of? There was then no punishment denoun- ced against murder, and the Lord expressly secured him from corporal punishment. But he had that within, to which all external pu- nishments are light : He was extended on the rack of reflection, and he lay upon the tor- ture of the mind. Hell was kindled within him, and he felt the first knawings of the worm that never dies. Another remarkable instance of the domi- nion of conscience, we have in the history of Herod. John the Baptist, the harbinger of our Lord, sojourned a while in the court of Herod, This faithful monitor spared not sin in the person of a king, but reproved him openly for his vices. Herod, although he dis- liked, yet he respected the prophet, and fear- ed the multitude, who believed in his doc- trines. But on Herod's birth-day, when the daughter of Herodias danced before him, he made a sudden vow, that he would grant her whatever she desired. Being instructed of her mother, she asked the head of John the Baptist. One of the common arts by which we deceive our consciences is to set one duty against another. Hence sin is generally com- mitted under the appearance of some virtue, and hence the greatest crimes which, have ever 222 ON DELIVERANCE troubled the world have been committed under the name, and under the shew of religion. Such was the crime which we are now considering. The observance of an oath has, among all na- tions, been regarded as a religious act; and here a fair opportunity offered itself to one who only waited for such an opportunity, to make religion triumph at the expense of virtue. If Herod had no inclination to destroy the Pro- phet, and no interest in his death, his con- science would have told him that murder was an atrocious crime, which no consideration could alleviate, nor excuse ; it would have told him that vows, which it is unlawful to make, it is also unlawful to keep : but Herod was already a party in the cause; he determined to get quit of his enemy; he satisfied his con- science with some vain pretences, and gave orders to behead the Baptist. But were all his anxieties and sorrows buried with the Prophet ? No : the grave of the Prophet was the grave of his peace. Neither the splend- our of Majesty, nor the guards of state, nor the noise of battle, nor the shouts of victory, could drown the alarms of conscience. That mangled form was ever present to his eyes ; the cry of blood was ever in his ears. Hence, when our Saviour appeared in a public charac- FROM REMORSE. 223 ter, and began to teach and to work miracles, Herod cried out, in the horrors of a guilty mind, " It is John the Baptist whom I slew ; " he is risen from the dead." How great, my brethren, is the power and dominion of conscience ! The Almighty ap- pointed it his vicegerent in the world ; he in- vested it with his own authority, and said, " Be thou a God unto man." Hence it has power over the course of time. It can recall the past; it can anticipate the future. It reaches beyond the limits of this globe ; it visits the chambers of the grave ; it reanimates the bodies of the dead ; exerts a dominion over the invisible regions, and summons the inhabitants of the eternal world to haunt the slumbers, and shake the hearts of the wicked. Tremble then, O man ! whosoever thou art, who art conscious to thyself of unrepented sins. Peace of mind thou shalt never enjoy. Repose, like a false friend, shall fly from thee. Thou shalt be driven from the presence of the Lord like Adam when he sinned, and be ter- rified when thou hearest his voice, as awful when it comes from within, as when it came from without. The spirit of a man may sus- tain his infirmity ; but a spirit wounded by remorse who can bear ? 224 ON DELIVERANCE The second tiling proposed, was, to shew you the deliverance which the Gospel gives us from remorse, by means of the 6{ blood of u sprinkling," This expression alludes to the ceremonial method of expiating sin under the Old Testament, by offering sacrifices, and sprinkling the blood of the victim upon the altar. But, as this was in itself only typical of Christ, how welcome to the soul is the glad tidings of the Messiah, who did, what these sacrifices could not do, actually save his people from their sins ! By the atonement and blood of Christ, the sins of men have been completely expiated. It is the voice of the gospel of peace, " take, eat, and live " for ever." What relief will it give to the wounded mind, to hear of the Blood of sprinkling, which speaketh better things than the blood of Abel ! The gospel being publish- ed to the world, and the offers of mercy through a redeemer being made to all men, the sincere penitent accepts these offers, and flies for refuge to the hope set before him. Then Jesus saves his people from their sins ; he heals the mind which was wounded by re- morse, and bestows that peace which the world cannot give, and cannot take away. There is joy in heaven, we are told, over a FROM REMORSE. 225 sinner that repenteth, and the joy of the hea- vens is communicated to thereturningpenitent When he beholds God reconciled to him in the face of his Son ; when he hears, in secret, the blessed Jesus whispering in sweet strains to his heart, " Son, be of good cheer, thy sins " are forgiven thee," he is filled with peace and with joy ; with peace which passeth all under- standing; with joy which is unspeakable and glorious. His sinsbeing forgiven, he is accepted in the Beloved. He is an heir of immortality, and his name is written in heaven ; to him is opened the fountain of life. He has a title to all the pleasures which are at God's right hand ; to the treasures of heaven, and to the joys of eternity. He looks forward, with awell ground- ed hope, to that happy day, when he shall take possession of the inheritance on high ; he anticipates the delights of the world to come ; and breaks forth into strains of exul- tation, similar to those transports of assurance uttered by the Apostle, " Who shall lay any " thing to the charge of God's elect ? It is " God that justifieth ; who is he that con- " demneth ? It is Christ that died, yea, rather " that is risen again, and who now sitteth and " intercedeth for us at God's right hand. 1 ' VOL, i. p SERMON XIV. ON THE VALUE OP THE SOUL, MARK viii. 36. For what shall it profit a man, if he shall gain the whole world, and lose his own THERE is not a person in this assembly, but who assents immediately to the truth of the maxim implied in the text. You all agree, that religion is the one thing needful, and that above all things you ought to seek the kingdom of God, and the righteousness there- o But there is a wide difference between the assent of the mind to the truth of this principle, and that deep conviction of its im- portance, which, in Scripture, obtains the name of faith ; sufficient to influence the heart, and ON THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 227 to determine the life. A great part of man- kind seem to have no steady belief that they are endowed with souls which are immortal : an eternity to come is with them merely a matter of speculation, and their faith in a fu- ture world has little more influence upon their lives, than their idea of a distant country, which they are never to see. Hence spiritual and eternal things are heard with little emo- tion or concern, while they are delivered in the house of God. Some can give themselves up to listlessness ; and others soon lose all re- membrance of what they have heard, in the next amusement, or in the news of the day. Even he who spoke as never man spake, and while he discoursed on points of such impor- tance as the loss of the soul, had occasion of- ten to take up the complaint, that in vain he stretched out his hands all day long to a dis- obedient people. To call your contemplation, then, to these subjects, for they need no more but to be con- sidered aright, in order to be felt, I shall en- deavour to shew you the value of the soul, from its native dignity, from its capacity of improvement, from its immortality, and from its unalterable state at death. 228 ON THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. Let us consider, then, in tliejirst place, the native importance and dignity of the human soul. It is the mind chiefly that is the man. Our souls properly are ourselves. The bodily organs are the ministers of the mind ; by these it sees and hears, and holds a cor- respondence with external things. It is by our souls that we hold our station in the scale of being ; that we rank above the animal world, and claim alliance with superior and immortal natures. As the soul is superior to the body, so intellectual pleasures exceed the sensual ; as heaven is higher than the earth, so the joys of a heavenly origin are superior to earthly enjoyments. I mean not, in the common way, to depreciate temporal posses- sions, as being insignificant in themselves, and unworthy the cares or labours of a v/ise man. Such discourse is mere declamation; it is against nature, contrary to truth, and makes no impression at all. Let all the value be set upon wealth and temporal possessions which they deserve, as affording a defence from many evils to which poverty is liable ; as ministering to the convenience, the con- solation, and the enjoyment of life ; as sup- porting a station with decency and dignity in the world ; and as accompanied with an im- ON THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 229 portance, by which a good man may find much pleasure arising to himself, and have the power of doing much good to his fellow creatures ; let all the value which reason al- lows be set upon temporal acquisitions and enjoyments, still they are inferior to those of an intellectual and moral kind ; still the maxim remains true, that he would be an infinite loser who should gain the whole world and lose his own soul. " Thou hast put more " gladness into my heart," saith the Psalmist, " than worldly men know, when their corn, " and their wine, and their oil abound." And do not your own feelings and experience bear witness to this truth ? Who will not acknow- ledge that there is more excellence in wisdom than in mere animal strength ? Who will not own that there is more happiness in the im- proving conversation of the wise, than in the tumultuous uproar of the debauched and li- centious ? Are the rays of light as pleasant to the eye as the radiations of truth to the mind? Have sensual gratifications a charm for the soul, equal to intellectual and moral joys ? While the former soon pall upon the appetite, are not the latter a perpetual feast ? While the remembrance of the one is attend- ed with no pleasure, is not the remembrance of the other a repetition of the enjoyment ? 230 ON THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. But great as the dignity of the human soul is, it may be still greater ; for, in the second place, it possesses a capacity of improvement. This constitutes one essential difference be- tween the intellectual and the material world. All material things soon reach the end of their progress, and arrive at a point beyond which they cannot go. Instinct grows apace, and the animal is soon complete in all its facul- ties and powers. Man ripens more slowly, because he ripens for immortality. Those en- joyments and pursuits of man also, which do not belong to him as an immortal being, come soon to their period. Amusement, when con- tinued long, becomes a fatigue. In pleasure there is a point, beyond which, if it be carried, it is pleasure no more, it turns into pain. The pursuits of greatness too are very limited, and the race of honour is soon run. After many a weary step, the votary of ambition finds that he has been running in a circle, and that he is come to the self-same point from which he set out. Mind, mind alone, contains in it- self the principle of progression and improve- ment without end. There is no ultimate power in the progress of man : there is no termination to the career of an immortal spi- rit. The dominions of earthly greatness are ON THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 231 circumscribed within narrow limits, and the hero has often wished for new countries to conquer : but the empire of the mind has no limit nor boundary ; and we can never arrive at that period, when we may say. Hitherto can we go, but no farther. Never have we learned so much, but we may learn more. Suppose life never so long, if the powers re- main, new paths to science may be struck out, fresh accessions of knowledge may be made. And we know from experience, that the largest measure of knowledge proves no burden to the mind, nor weakens its powers ; but that, on the contrary, the capacity enlarges with the acquisition, and that men, the more they have learned, the more apt they are to learn ; the less is their labour, and the easier their progress. Improvements in goodness keep pace with improvements in wisdom. Repeated acts of obedience grow into habit ; the penitent is confirmed in righteousness, and he that is holy becomes holier still. From the fulness which is in God, he adds grace to grace. The day of small things shineth more and more, and that day is succeeded by no night. The pil- grims, who at first set out feeble and faint, grow vigorous as they advance, going forward 232 ON THE VALUE OF THE SOUL, from strength to strength; ascending from one degree of goodness to another, they ap- proach the everlasting hills, and coming with- in the sphere of heaven, they inhale the spirit of their native region ; they feel the attrac- tions of the uncreated beauty ; they receive a foretaste of the fruits of life, and, with hearts already full of heaven, and with tongues al- ready tuned to the songs above, they put on the brightness of angels, and enter into the mansions of paradise. In the third place, The value of the soul will farther appear, if we consider that it is immor- tal. All human things soon come to an end. Temporal possessions, and earthly greatness, have a short date. The wor!4 itself is for ever changing ; the fashion thereof passes away, and he who knows it in one age, in the next would not know it again. How short-lived are the enjoyments of this mortal state ! Although the flowers of transient joy, more hardy than the gourd of Jonah, may outlive the heat of the morning, and glow amid the blaze of noon, yet when the blast of evening comes, they are nipt and wither away. Ambition too has its day, and often a short one. Its votaries seem to be raised, but the more sensibly to feel their ON THE VALUE OF THE SOUL. 233 fall The same whirlwind that snatches them up from the crowd, brings them down at even with tenfold fury. Not to mention these more violent revolutions, its natural period soon comes. He who runs the race of human glory, is lost in the very dust that is raised around him. And such is the sudden end of all ter- restrial enjoyments, when, after the study and the labour of years, we have with much pains and care gathered together the requisites and materials of a happy life, and say to ourselves, " Soul, take thine ease, thou hast goods laid up " for many years," the warning voice is heard, 2 He makes me down to lie In pastures green : he leadeth me The quiet waters by. 3 My soul he doth restore again ; And me to walk doth make Within the paths of righteousness, Even for his own name's sake. 4 Yea, though I walk in death's dark vale, Yet will I fear none ill : For thou art with me, and thy road And staff me comfort still. f 5 My table thou hast furnished, In presence of my foes ; My head thou dost with oil anoint, And my cup overflows. 6 Goodness and mercy all my life Shall surely follow me : And in God's house for evermore, My dwelling-place shall be, 320 LORD'S SUPPER, CONCLUDING EXHORTATION FROM THE PULPIT^ (i MY brethren and friends ! our solemn work of communion is now over. It has been performed with much external decency, and seeming devotion. I presume not to judge of the heart: that is the prerogative of the Al- mighty God. Proceeding according to the judgment of charity, I conclude that your intentions have been pure, and your hearts upright before the Lord. In this view I con- gratulate you on the good confession which you have this day made before many wit- nesses. You have given your hearts to him who redeemed you from the wrath to come ; and I have authority to assu're you that you will never have cause to repent. " Henceforth you belong to the family of Jesus. Your Lord now says to you, I call you ic not servants but friends." The bless- ings which he bequeaths to his friends who have sat with him at his table, are summed up in those precious and expressive words which he spoke to his disciples at the first in- stitution of the Sacrament : " Peace I leave MORNING SERVICE* 321 66 with you, my peace I give unto you ; not as u the world giveth, give I unto you." " I " will see you again, and your hearts shall re- joice, and your joy no man taketh from you. Ask, and ye shall receive, that your " joy may be full." These are the words of life ; and have in them a power to give com- fort to the mind in life and death, in time and through eternity. " Yet, my brethren, draw nigh, and give ear to me.- It is only to those who have pre- pared themselves according to the preparation of the sanctuary, who have washed their hands in innocence before they approached to the altar of the Most High, that these blessings are promised. It is to be feared, that with many persons on such occasions as this, and perhaps at this very time, the performance of the solemn duty has been rather a matter of form, than of true devotion. To such I must say, The bread is not the bread of life, nor the cup the cup of blessing. Their hearts may have burned for a time within them ; but this flame will soon be extinguished. Were I en- dowed with the power of looking into futu- rity, and of beholding the after lives of this assembly, what might I foretell ? But without pretending to such a power, I may predict, VOL. i. x 322 LORD'S SUPPER. from the experience of ages past, that not a few will break their sacramental vows, and profane that holy name by which they are called : that by secret sins and open wicked- ness, they will crucify the Son of God afresh* and put him to open shame : that he will be wounded in the house of his friends : that per- haps before the sun shall have ended his course in the heavens, that perhaps before the cock shall have crowed twice, the best re- solutions will be forgotten ; that one man shall prefer the gains of iniquity, another the cup of drunkenness, and all their darling sins, to the tender mercies of the God of Peace, and the dying love of a crucified Redeemer ! " O " Jerusalem, Jerusalem," (it may be said still), " thou who stonedst the prophets, and killest " them who are sent unto thee, how often " would the blessed Jesus gather thee under " his wings, as a hen gathereth her brood, and " ye will not?" " But, my friends, we hope better things of you, though we thus speak. Many, it is to be hoped, (and fain would I say, a//,) who have sat with Jesus this day, will sit again with him in his Father's kingdom. And for your encouragement, He will be always with you. Over the future there hangs a dark cloud, MORNING SERVICE. 323 which the eye of providence only can pierce. In the world you shall have tribulation. But let not your souls be troubled : You believe in God, believe also in Christ. When you go through the waters, he will be with you. Amidst all the changes of this fleeting and turbulent scene, you will have one friend, and him mighty to save, who will never fail you : You will have a city which cannot be shaken, a kingdom which cannot be moved, and a crown that fadeth not away. " For you the joys which accompany reli- gion are preparing. Light is sown for the righteous, and gladness for the upright in heart. Walk, then, as becometh the children of the resurrection, and the heirs of glory. Keep yourselves unspotted from the world, and let your conversation be in heaven, from whence you look for the Saviour. And when your hearts fail, you have an Advocate with the Father, even Jesus Christ the righteous, the propitiation for your souls. Let us pray, PRAYER. " We come now, O God, from the table of thy Son, with grateful and with joyful hearts, x 2 32i LORD'S SUPPER. to prostrate ourselves before thy throne. Bless- ed, forever blessed be the Lord ! that our eyes have seen this day of the Son of Man : We will for ever remember it as one of the days of the right hand of the Most High* We have seen the King in his beauty : We have seen the Messiah's reign, which, of old, thou didst keep hid from prophets, and from princes, and from righteous men. Thou hast made all thy goodness to pass before us : Thou hast opened the fountain of life, and hast poured the treasures of heaven upon earth. Thou hast this day put into our hands the dearest pledges of thy love : Thou hast per- mitted us to sit down with Jesus, and partake of that feast through which we hope for eter- nal life. " Blessed Jesus ! in obedience to thy com- mandments, and in commemoration of thy dying love, we have this day joined ourselves unto thee in an everlasting covenant, and vowed, that whether living or dying, in time or through eternity, we will serve thee, be thine, and thine only. In obedience to thy commandments, we have joined , ourselves to the Church-militant upon earth, and rest in hope of joining the general assembly and church of the first-born in heaven, when we MORNING SERVICE. 325 shall be admitted to the presence of God, the merciful Judge of all ; to Jesus, the Mediator of the New Covenant; to an innumerable company of angels, and spirits of just men made perfect ; to all the host of heaven, who are now sitting on thrones, and singing hosan- nas to the Highest. With them we join in ascribing praise and blessing to him that sit- teth upon the throne, and to the Lamb for ever and ever. Our souls do magnify the Lord : Our spirits rejoice in God our Saviour. " Pardon, O God, what thy pure eyes may have seen amiss in any part of this day's ser- vice. Forgive the preparation which has not been the preparation of the sanctuary. For- bid that the bread of life should become the means of death. May what our eyes have seen, our ears have heard, and our hands have handled, keep their hold of our hearts : May we feel the transforming power of that death which we have commemorated, and walk among men as the redeemed of the Lord. May we carry into life the spirit of this day. O grant us aid from above, and the communi- cations of thy grace, to keep alive upon our minds a sense of thy amazing love, to second the good impressions that have been made upon us, and to assist us in performing the 326 LOAD'S SUPPER, solemn vows we have this day made unto the Lord. Let us not think, when the Sacrament is over, that the work is ended. Having be-* gun our journey, let us not wander in the wil- derness, and lose sight of the heavenly Canaan. Comfort our hearts under the hardships of our pilgrimage : Cheer our minds in the waste and howling desert : Bear us up under the swellings of Jordan, and bring us in safety to the promised land. May the Gospel 'become effectually unto . us the glad tidings of great joy, by conveying to us the pardon of all our sins, and peace with God, through our Lord Jesus Christ. " For these purposes, send thy holy Spirit to abide with us for ever. Sanctify us to thy service ; subdue the power of sin in our hearts ; save us in the hour of temptation, and preserve us to thy heavenly kingdom. Let not the suggestions of a carnal mind, nor the solicitations of sensual pleasure, nor the allurements of a corrupted world, seduce us from the path that conducts to glory and immortality. In prosperity may we reflect, that too often a serpent lurks among theflowers: In adversity may we be enabled to see thy mer- cy shining through the cloud ; and be convin- ced that we are in the hands of infinite Wis* MORNING SERVICE. 327 dorn, who knows what is best for us, and will make all things work for our good. May we fill our stations with integrity, with usefulness, and with honour, holding fast the testimony of a good conscience. " We would humbly offer up our prayers in behalf of these our native lands. Preserve the liberties of the British constitution inviolate to the latest posterity. O thou who art King of kings, and Lord of lords, we commend to thy protection thy servant his Majesty King George. Endow him from on high with all princely virtues ; place wise counsellors around his throne, men actuated with the fear of God, and with an ardent zeal for the good, the li- berty, and the glory of the people. Bless all the other branches of the Koyal Family. Bless all in high rank and authority. May they adorn the stations they possess, and by their influence and example form the manners of the people to virtue. Bless thy servants the ministers of the everlasting Gospel : May they be endued with the Spirit of their Master, and preach the good Word, not from vanity and ostentation, nor to gain the praises of men, but from a re- gard to the welfare of souls, from the love of truth, of godliness, and of Thee, 828 LORD'S SUPPER. " We humbly offer up our prayers in behalf of this congregation. Let the light of thy countenance be lifted up upon them ; .and bless all ranks, high and low, rich and poor. Guide and direct them by thy counsel, while here be- low ; and at last receive them unto thyself, that where thou art, there they may be also, enjoying blessedness at thy right hand for ever- more. " Grant us all, we beseech Thee, that we may partake of the Spirit of our holy calling, and exercise the virtues of our heavenly state. Raise our affections from earth to heaven, and may we become followers of those who, by their faith and patience, are now inheriting the promises. Let not an inordinate affec- tion to earthly objects withdraw our eyes from heavenly things, or dissolve our connection with the joys above ; but may we live on earth as the citizens of heaven ; may we pass through things temporal, so as not to neglect things eternal. May we walk in the world as becomes the dignity of the rational character, as becomes the sanctity of the religious profession, and the purity of the Christian hope. " O that it may be the stedfast purpose of our lives, to hold fast our integrity so long as we shall live. Let not the fear of evil, nor the MORNING SERVICE. 329 fashion of the world, nor the vain splendour of life, turn us aside from the right path. In every department of duty, may we approve ourselves unto thee ; and in every situation of life, may we possess that peace of mind which the world cannot give, and cannot take away. May we pass through life unspotted from the world, and end our days in innocence and peace. " Be with us now in singing praises to thy name ; and come forth with us in the even- ing, to worship again before thee, and to hear instructions from thy holy word. Now to the Father, Son, and Holy Spirit, be glory, and honour, and praise, for ever and ever. Amen? PSALM cxxi. 1 I TO the hills will lift mine eyes, From whence doth come mine aid. 2 My safety cometh from the Lord, Who heaven and earth hath made. 3 Thy foot he'll not let slide, nor will He slumber that thee keeps. 4 Behold, he that keeps Israel, He slumbers not, nor sleeps. 330 LORD'S SUPPER. 5 The Lord thee keeps, the Lord thy shade, On thy right hand doth stay. 6 The moon by night thee shall not smite, Nor yet the sun by day. 7 The Lord shall keep thy soul, he shall Preserve thee from all ill. 8 Henceforth thy going out and in God keep for ever will. BLESSING, The whole Congregation stand up when the blessing is pro- nounced.] " May the love of God the Father, the grace of our Lord and Saviour Jesus Christ, the fel- lowship and communion of the Holy Spirit, be with you and all the people of God, hence- forth and for evermore. Amen" CELEBRATION SACRAMENT OF THE LORD'S SUPPER, EVENING SERVICE. PARAPHRASE Ivii. HEBREWS iv. 14, to the end* i. WHERE high the heavenly temple stands, The house of God not made with hands ; A great high priest our nature wears ; The guardian of mankind appears. * Besides the Psalms of David, a Collection of Translations and Paraphrases in verse, of several passages of Sacred Scrip- ture, together with some Hymns, has been, of late years, used in several Congregations in public worship ; and this by per- mission of the General Assembly of the Church of Scotland. This paraphrase of Hebrews iv. 14, and likewise the Hymn which closes the following EVENING SERVICE, are taken from that Collection, and both of them were composed by the Au- thor of these Sermons. See Mr Logan's Poems, published in J78L 332 LOKD'S SUPPER. ii. He who for men their Surety stood, And pour'd on earth his precious blood, Pursues in heaven his mighty plan, The Saviour and the Friend of man. in. Though now ascended up on high, He bends on earth a brother's eye ; Partaker of the human name, He knows the frailty of our frame. IV. Our fellow sufferer yet retains A fellow-feeling of our pains ; And still remembers in the skies, His tears, his agonies, and cries. v: In every pang that rends- the heart, The Man of Sorrows had a part ; He sympathizes with our grief, And to the sufferer sends relief. VI. With boldness, therefore, at the throne, Let us make all our sorrows known ; And ask the aids of heavenly power, To help us in the evil hour. EVENING SERVICE. 333 PRAYER. " Father Almighty, we come again into thy presence with the voice of thanksgiving and of praise, to worship at the footstool of thy throne. May our prayers come up before thee, as the incense of old ; and the lifting up of our hands as the evening sacrifice ! To all temples, thou preferrest the pure and humble heart ; to all burnt-offerings, the sacrifice of prayer and of praise. " The heaven of heavens cannot contain thee. Thou dwellest not in temples made with hands. The universe is the altar of God. Thy worshippers are, wherever are thy works: every knee bends, and every tongue utters thy praise. Thou lookest down from the height of heaven, upon all the works of thy hands. Thou art clothed with majesty, and dwellest in light. Thou art a God of pure eyes : Thou art glorious in holiness. Thou lookest upon the sun, and it shineth not : the heavens are not clean in thy sight. The angels who surround thy throne, continually worship thee, saying, Holy, holy, holy art thou, Lord God Almighty ! the whole heavens, and the whole earth, are full of thy glory ! 334 LORD'S SUPPER. " Thy throne, O God, is for ever : thy do- minion ruleth over all ; the sceptre of thy kingdom is altogether a right sceptre. Thy tender mercies are over all thy works. Thy goodness falls everywhere like the dew, and extends like the beams of the sun. Order and beauty attend thy steps : mercy and love di- rect the whole train of thine administrations. Thou lookest down upon the highest and up- on the lowest of thy works : thou carest for the raven of the desert: thou feedest the fowls of the air when they cry unto thee. Thou adornest the grass with green, and deckest the lilies of the field with beauty superior to the glory of kings. Thou hast created all being at first with a father's care, and thou dost still watch over them with a father's eye. Thou, the Lord JEHOVAH, rejoicest in thy works; and thy works, O Lord JEHOVAH, rejoice in thee ! Whatever hath being blesses thee ; whatever hath life sings thy praise. Who is like unto the Lord our God, that dwelleth on high ! " We, too, the children of men, desire to accord with the rest of thy creation, to join in the joy of universal nature, and to bear a part in the hymn which the living world con- tinually sings to thee. Thou hast raised us EVENING SERVICE. 335 above the animal creation : thou hast opened unto us the source of pure and intellectual pleasure : thou hast endowed us with higher life than what pertains to the body ; and set before us a better world than that which we now inhabit. Thy goodness is new to us every day of our lives. Thou leadest us to the green pastures, and by the still waters : thou guard- est us from the arrow that flieth in darkness, and from destruction which rageth at noon- day. The lines have fallen unto us in plea- sant places: the sun doth not smite us by day, nor the moon by night. The Lord buildeth the house : the Lord keepeth the city. Blessed for ever be the name of the Lord: because the Lord God Omnipotent reigneth, let the isles be glad, and the inha- bitants of the earth rejoice. " But alas ! what is man, O Lord, that thou art mindful of him, and the son of man, that thou shouldst visit him. The child of the dust, whose strength is weakness, whose wisdom is folly, whose goodness is imperfec- tion, whose life is altogether vanity ! We be- hold the heavens, but discern not him who stretched them over our heads ! We hear the voice, and speech, and language, of universal nature proclaiming the great Creator : we 336 LORD'S SUPPER. hear the night speaking unto the night, and the day reporting unto the day, telling of him that made them, and yet we learn not to know thee as we might, nor become wise unto salvation. 44 Have mercy upon us, O God, not for our own sakes, but for the sake of him whom thou lovest always, our Advocate and inter- cessor with thee. Help, Lord, or else we perish : extend thy powerful arm, and snatch us from the devouring deep. Reconcile us unto thyself, through the blood of Jesus, whom thou hast set forth to be a propitiation for the sins of the world, who suffered for us on the accursed tree, that he might bring us to God, and purify us unto himself a peculiar people, zealous of good works. For his sake forgive all our iniquities : Receive us graciously, and love us freely. See, God, the contrition and repentance of our hearts. Hear the vows which this day we have offered up at the table of a Redeemer. O our Father, receive again thy children unto thee, who return with their whole heart, and strength, and soul. Framer of the bodies which now stand before thee, Father of the spirits which now ascend unto thee in prayer, take thine own unto thy- self. Our spirits magnify, and love, and bless EVENING SERVICE. 337 thee the Lord : As the hart panteth after the water-brooks, so pant our souls after thee, O God. The desire of our hearts is unto thee, and to the remembrance of thy name ! " May our purposes of amendment and sincere endeavours after purity of heart and life be not like the early cloud and dew, which soon pass away, and are no more ; but like the morning light, which shineth more and more unto the perfect day. Teach us to shun every temptation to sin : May we neither sit in the chair of the scorner, nor stand in the way of sinners, nor walk after the counsel of the un- godly. May we study the laws and command- ments of our God : Make them our medita- tion by night, and our practice by day ; that we may be like trees planted by the rivers of water, which yield their fruit in their season, and whose leaf is ever green. Let not the course of days, and months, and years, which we enjoy, pass over us in vain, to rise up against us in sad remembrance at the evening of life, and to fill our departing hours with terror and remorse. Let not the time of our pilgrimage in this world be one vast blank, barren of improvement, and blotted with conr- scions guilt ; but may we pass the time of our sojourning here in thy fear, daily abounding VOL, i. y 338 LORD'S SUPPEK. in the graces of Christianity, and the fruits of holiness, adding to our faith virtue, and one grace to another, till we arrive at full confor- mity to thy blessed image, and be partakers with the saints in light. May we be translated from the kingdom of darkness to the kingdom of thy Son, and entitled to all the privileges of the children of God. " Bestow upon us that faith which purifieth the heart, and worketh by love. Grant unto us that repentance from dead works, to serve the living God, which leadeth unto life, and is not to be repented of. Fill our hearts with that charity which is the bond of per- fection, which suffereth long, and is kind, which beareth all things, which hopeth all things, and which endureth all things. In- spire us with that wisdom which cometh from above, which is pure, peaceable, gentle, full of mercy arid of good fruits, without par- tiality, and without hypocrisy. May we exer- cise at all times a conscience void of offence towards God and towards man, and have the testimony of our own hearts, that in simpli- city and godly sincerity we have had our lives and conversations in the world. " For these purposes, O God, inspire us with thy Spirit, and strengthen us with all might in the inner man, that we may press EVEXIXG SERVICE. forward to perfection. May we acquire that humility which afterwards shall be exalted ; that mourning which shall be comforted; those penitential tears which shall be changed into eternal consolations; that contempt of the world to which belongs the kingdom of heaven ; that purity of heart which shall fit us to see God ; and perform all those works of mercy, and labours of love, for which the kingdom of our Lord was prepared before the foun- dations of the world were laid. Grant that neither the splendour of any thing that is great, nor the conceit of any thing that is good within us, may ever withdraw our eyes from looking upon ourselves as sinful dust and ashes ; but that we may persevere with pa- tience, and humility, and zeal, unto the end. Grant, that when we shall depart from this life, we may sleep in the Lord, and when the morning of the resurrection dawns over the world, we may lift up our heads with tri- umph, and rejoicing, receive the blessed sen- tence of those who, having done well, are called upon to enter into their Master's joy. " And now, our waiting eyes, O God, are towards thee. May the words of our mouths, and the meditations of our hearts, be ac- ceptable in thy sight, O Lord, our strength y 2 340 LORD'S SUPPER. and our Redeemer. All these our humble prayers, we offer up in the name and through the intercession of Christ, to whom, with thee the Father, and Holy Spirit, be all praise and glory. Amen." EVENING SERMON. ON THE RESURRECTION OF JESUS CHRIST, MATTHEW xxviii. 6. Come, see the place where the Lord lay. WHEN our Saviour expired upon the cross, thg cause of Christianity seemed to be lost. Ke- jected by that nation to whom he was sent, condemned under the forms of a legal trial , and crucified as a malefactor before all the people, an effectual bar seemed to have been put for ever to all his designs. It then seem- ed that all was over* A people whom their prophets taught to look for a king, did not look for him to come down from a cross ; a nation who expected the appearance of a Messiah, did not expect him to appear from the grave. His followers were few in num* 342 LORD'S SUPPER. her, and feeble in spirit. Although he had frequently foretold his death, the idea of a temporal prince was so strong in their minds 5 that they could not reconcile themselves to the thought of a suffering Saviour; and though he had also on various occasions foretold his resurrection, they were so much under the power of prejudices, deeply rooted, that they either did not understand, or did not believe, his predictions. When he was apprehended by a band of soldiers, they forsook him and fled ; they had not courage to attend him in the last hour of his life ; to go with him to the tribunal and to the cross : Afar off only, they followed with their eyes, and beheld with tears, him whom they expected to behold no more. Then they gave up all for lost. The sun, which was soon after darkened by a preterna- tural eclipse, and the rock which was rent asunder by an earthquake, appeared to be the sad tokens of a glory that had departed, and of a kingdom that was to be no more. Dark and dismal were the shades of that night which descended on the Saviour's tomb: The hearts of the disciples were troubled, and their Comforter was gone. All the scenes of their past lives, the miracles they had seen, the discourses they had heard, the hopes they EVENING SERVICE. 343 had entertained, were like a dream ; they abandoned themselves to despair, and, as we learn from the Evangelist Luke, they were about to leave Jerusalem, and betake them- selves to their old employments. While the enemies of Jesus triumphed, and his friends lamented, the counsels of heaven were executing, and the operation of the Al- mighty was going forward. We read in the Gospel of Matthew, ** In the end of the Sab- " bath, as it began to dawn towards the first " day of the week, came Mary Magdalene, " and the other Mary, to see the sepulchre. " And behold, there was a great earthquake ; " for the angel of the Lord descended from " heaven, and came and rolled back the stone " from the door, and sat upon it. His coun- " tenance was like lightning, and his raiment " white as snow. Arid for fear of him, the *< keepers did shake, and became as dead men. " And the angel answered and said unto the 4t women, Fear not ye : for I know that ye " seek Jesus which was crucified. He is not *< here : for he is risen, as he said : come, see " the place where the Lord lay." The nativity of our Lord had been announ- ced by an angel to the shepherds of Bethlehem. " While they were abiding in the field, and 344 LORD'S SUPPER. " keeping watch over their flocks by night, Lq* " the angel of the Lord came unto them, and " the glory of the Lord shone round about " them ; and the angel said unto them, Fear